he the nicest man?” Carrie said. “I should’ve invited him to church.”
Mary wouldn’t find Luke Jacobs’s name under Webster’s definition for nice. Nice would be seeing the man drive his rig out of town.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about my nephew’s rash. Is something going around?” Carrie said and then shot her a curious look.
Heat rose in Mary’s face. “Ah, not that I know of.”
“It’s probably that homemade soap. I told my sister it’s too strong for that boy’s skin, but it’s cheaper than store-bought and…”
As Carrie chatted about the boy’s rash, Mary nodded, barely able to concentrate. Luke Jacobs exhibited interest in Ben beyond ordinary courtesy. Instinct urged her to rush Ben home.
Evidently satisfied that lye soap caused her nephew’s mysterious rash, Carrie said goodbye, then touched Mary’s sleeve. “Oh, look. That peddler’s coming back.”
Still clinging to Ben’s hand, Mary pivoted, almost colliding with Luke Jacobs. Wobbling on her feet, she gasped. He reached out a hand to steady her, then let go. A warm sensation shot through her and fluttered against every nerve.
In his other hand, Mr. Jacobs held the ball Ben wanted. Mary swirled to the store window, to the empty spot where the toy had been.
“This is for you.” The rogue bent down and put the ball into Ben’s outstretched hands. “I saw you admiring it.”
“Thank you!” Ben beamed, clinging to it with both hands. “Look, Mary, look what the nice man gave me!”
Hot anger sliced through Mary. Surely he’d heard her refuse to buy the toy. While she’d talked to Carrie, he’d gone into the store and bought it. She wanted to snatch the ball out of the youngster’s arms, but he’d raise a ruckus. Besides, that would be cruel. She couldn’t blame Ben that this cad took pleasure in undermining her authority.
The peddler sat on his heels in front of her son. “I’m Luke. What’s your name?”
“Ben.”
“Ben. Ben,” the man repeated, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
Mary’s heart tripped in her chest. He’d used the gift as a way to obtain Ben’s name. She took a step closer.
“Red’s my favorite color,” Ben said, still smiling at Luke, chattering on as if he’d made a new friend. “I have a red truck, and now I have a red ball with yellow stripes and blue stars.”
Under Ben’s direct gaze, Luke wavered, as if he didn’t know the first thing about children. Well, good.
“Ah, red’s my favorite color too,” he said.
Ben smiled. “Do you like stars?”
“Yes, ’specially stars in the night sky.”
“Mary showed me the Big Dipper.” Ben lowered his voice. “I didn’t see it, but I pretended cuz Mary is real nice.”
The vendor chuckled, his expression exhibiting fascination with Ben, his gaze never leaving the boy’s face. “You’re a smart young fellow.”
Touched by Ben’s obvious delight at the man’s words, Mary’s heart twisted, then unfurled. Luke Jacobs wasn’t above using every trick at his disposal to entice Ben, a boy hungry for a man’s attention.
Ben nodded. “I know my colors and I can count by tens.” He took a deep breath. “Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, seventy, oh, ah, I mean sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, one hundred.”
“Excellent.”
“Michael taught me.” Beaming, Ben’s small chest puffed with pride. “Want to play catch? Mary can’t play good cuz she wears dresses. Girls don’t like playin’ catch.”
Luke Jacobs glanced around, as if uncertain how they’d manage a game on the walk.
Mary tugged Ben closer. “We don’t have time to play.”
The boy’s lower lip trembled and his eyes glistened.
Luke ruffled Ben’s hair, then dropped his hand to his side. “Maybe next time.” He rose and turned his dark gaze on Mary, full of interest, sending a shiver down her spine. “Would you allow me to take you and Ben to lunch, Miss Graves?”
The nerve of that man. Shaking her head, Mary scooped up Ben, pushed past her adversary and hurried up the street, listening for his footsteps, but she heard nothing but her breath coming in harsh spurts.
She glanced over her shoulder. The peddler remained where she’d left him. Still, she couldn’t risk letting him know where she lived. Her hands trembled. He could show up at her door, demanding to see Ben.
Instead of going home, she’d go to The Ledger. Charles would know how to get that man out of this town.
The sooner, the better.
Realization crashed over Luke, kicking up his pulse like a runaway mustang. The boy’s name was Ben. He looked to be around four. The fact he called Mary by name and the resemblance to his childhood pictures left no doubt in his mind. This boy was his son.
Luke’s throat clogged. I’ve found him. I’ve found Ben.
The youngster looked well cared for and happy. He’d give Mary Graves that much. As soon as he determined Ben’s condition and sold the rest of his inventory, he could return to New York and his lab, assured the lad would be fine.
The prospect of never seeing his son again twisted in his gut. Odd how he’d found the boy’s every word and action enchanting. Ben’s innocence and delight tugged at Luke. That pull left him shaken, unsteady, as if the earth had shifted under his feet. He tossed the strong feeling aside, refusing to be drawn into Ben’s life.
If he did, he’d only ruin it.
But before he could leave, Luke had to know if the child had inherited the family curse. Only then could he depart in good conscience, knowing he’d armed the child’s new family with the proper knowledge, so Ben wouldn’t suffer as Luke’s brother had.
Yet, something else nagged at Luke. Why did his son call Miss Graves Mary, instead of mother? Did Ben feel unconnected?
Luke knew the feeling, knew the necessity of keeping his distance. Until he could leave, he vowed to maintain his reserve in a town that appeared woven together as tightly as a well-made blanket.
He’d already seen wariness in Mary Graves’s flashing green eyes. He suspected she could make trouble for him. How much trouble remained to be seen.
Chapter Five
Holding Ben in her arms, Mary hustled toward The Ledger, greeting the people she knew but avoiding conversation. She couldn’t waste a moment in idle chitchat, not after that disturbing encounter with Luke Jacobs.
Inside
