His Wife for a While (10 page)

The lock of dark hair fell onto her cheek again and Ben had to force himself not to reach up and tuck it behind her ear.

"I called the center," she continued. "But there's no one there this early. I'll go to May's myself and see if I can trap whatever's in the chimney. I told her I'll do my best, but that I couldn't promise the animal wouldn't be hurt by my efforts, either." After a moment, she added, "I'm glad she called me rather than waiting for the exterminator."

Her mouth curled into a tiny, rare smile and Ben found it alluring, so alluring in fact that he wanted to say something that would make that special smile widen even farther.

"I'm glad she called too," he said gently. "You'll have the bird's welfare in mind more than any exterminator would."

One corner of her lips did draw back a little more, but only for an instant before she nodded and turned away.

"Wait," he said. "I'll go with you."

"Oh, that's not necessary."

"But I want to," he told her. "Besides, it will give us a chance to spend a little time together today."

"But your work..." she protested.

He shrugged. "It's Saturday. I deserve some time off. I really would like to spend some time with you." Then a little hesitantly he added, "If you don't mind."

She dipped her head so he couldn't see her face and he fought the urge to reach out and tilt up her chin with his fingertips.

"I don't mind," she murmured.

Ben's spirit soared and he felt he'd somehow won a small battle.

Half an hour later, Ben watched his wife kneel close to May's fireplace and look up into the dark recesses of the chimney.

"I swear I don't see anything." Her voice was muffled.

"Maybe it flew out already," May said. "I haven't heard anything for a while."

"Could be." Ben stood beside the mantle trying to keep his eyes on his aunt, but
Chelsea
's shapely rear end sticking out of the fireplace opening was like a magnet.

Chelsea
thumped on the inside wall of the chimney. "There he is!" she called. She ducked out of the fireplace. "I can see him now, but he's too far up for me to reach. It's a bird and it's perched on the edge of a rough brick or something up there and he's not moving. I hope he's not hurt."

Her face was so intent. She swiped at her bangs and smudged her temple with the creosote that stained her fingers. She's a beautiful woman, Ben thought. The observation entered his head in such a natural manner that it surprised him.

"I'll go up on the roof…"

"No, you won't," he cut her off. "I'll climb up there."

"Maybe if we leave him alone, the little bugger will just fly out," May said.

Chelsea
shook her head. "He can't, May. Birds fly on air currents. They can't maneuver like a helicopter, flying straight up. No, he's stuck all right."

"I'll see if I can reach it from the roof," Ben offered.

"You'd better take a broom or something with a long handle,"
Chelsea
said. "If you can't reach him, you'll have to nudge him off his perch and I'll try to catch him down here in the hearth."

"I'm glad I called you," May commented. "It sounds like you've done this before.''

"Actually, I haven't," she said. "But I did watch it being done once. I'll be careful, I promise."

Ben positioned the ladder against the side of the house and climbed the rungs with May's best straw broom in one hand, a flashlight tucked in his pocket. He carefully crawled onto the gritty asphalt roof tiles, stood up and made his way to where the brick chimney rose above the house.

Peering down into the flue, Ben decided he needed the flashlight. He directed the beam and quickly found a small owl perched inside the chimney.

"I see it," he called down to
Chelsea
. "It's an owl. Small one. A baby, maybe."

"Can you reach it?"

He stuck his arm inside as far as he could and felt along the sides of the flue, then pulled his hand free.

"Damn." Wrinkling his nose, he called down, "Chels, tell May it's time to have her chimney cleaned."

The sound of Chelsea's light laughter filtered up toward him and he stopped short. Granted, it hadn't been much of a laugh, hardly a chuckle really, but he realized that this had been the first time he'd ever heard it. He found the sound of it delightful and wanted badly to hear it again.

"I'm a mess." He directed his statement so she could hear.

He was rewarded with another tinkling of her laughter and she said, "Welcome to the club."

His chest filled with a warmth he would have thought impossible when it came to
Chelsea
. And he found it a marvelous revelation.

"I'm going to use the broom handle," Ben said.

"Gently, Ben," she called softly. "Please remember that he's scared, and he's probably hurt."

Ever so slowly, he lowered the broom, handle side down, into the flue. It took only a tiny nudge. The owl gave a frightened shriek and plummeted into the blackness.

There was a commotion of flapping wings and screeches from the bird, and Ben's heart hammered in his chest when he heard
Chelsea
scream.

"
Chelsea
?"

She didn't answer.

When she screamed a second time, he jerked the broom from the chimney and it landed on the roof with a thump.

"
Chelsea
!" he yelled.

Ben scrambled toward the ladder and climbed down as fast as safety would allow. He rounded the house and burst through the front door.

The sight before him shocked him into speechlessness.
Chelsea
was gently cradling the small owl in her hands. She crooned soothingly, and the comfort in her tone, the expression of concern on her face was all-consuming. It was clearly evident that the frightened wild creature was, at that moment in time, the most important thing in the world to her.

Ben was completely and utterly dumbfounded by the change in this woman. He had thought her unfeeling and cold. However, seeing her now, he realized that she might purposefully hold her emotions in check, but she definitely was not unfeeling. The gentleness and kindness etched in her beautiful features astounded him. And again he was overwhelmed by the difference in her.

"Help me, Ben," she said, her voice feather soft so as not to upset the owl.

"What can I do?" He emulated her hushed tone as he crossed the room.

Just then May came into the living room with a linen tea towel.

"Here,
Chelsea
," May said. "This is the closest I could come to lightweight fabric."

"It's perfect, May,"
Chelsea
said. "Thanks." Then she glanced at Ben. "Take the towel," she told him, "and loosely tie it over his head. Sort of like a hood."

"Over his head?" he asked.

"At least over his eyes," she instructed. "If he can't see, he'll stay calmer. But not too tight. We want him to be able to breathe."

Ben did as he was told,
Chelsea
quietly talking him through every movement. He marveled at how placid the bird had become when the makeshift hood was covering its head.

"I heard you scream," Ben said.

The sound of her chuckle made his gut tighten with pleasure.

"It was my fault. This little fellow scared me to death when he came down on top of me." She laughed softly again. "I should never have had my head in the hearth when you forced him down."

She held the bird in both hands and softly stroked it with one thumb.

"You're so scared," she crooned to the tiny owl. "It's going to be okay now."

Chelsea
looked at Ben. "He's trembling," she said. Her eyes conveyed a tremendous amount of compassion. "Would you take me over to the nature center?"

"Sure."

"I'd go alone, but if I put him in a box I'm afraid he might hurt himself. It would be safer for him if I just held on to him." She rubbed her chin on the owl's soft feathers. "I'd like to have the vet take a look at him. He may have a broken wing, and if he does, I'm not sure how to set it."

"We can go right now," Ben said.

"
Chelsea
, you did an outstanding job." May's eyes were shining. "You sure did."

"I'm glad you called me," she told his aunt. "Let's go, Ben."

They drove the short distance to the nature center. By now the center was open and
Chelsea
went inside to hand over the bird to the attendant on duty.

As Ben waited for her to return to the truck, he couldn't help but marvel at what he'd learned about her this morning. As long as he'd known
Chelsea
, she'd presented a reserved and chilly disposition to the world. And she'd been so consistent in her presentation that everyone believed her act.

But seeing her at May's this morning, actually witnessing the compassion she lavishly bestowed on the tiny, frightened owl, had taught him that his wife's detached demeanor was a façade… a false front that hid the true person inside. His wife clearly had an altruistic nature that she was concealing from him and everyone else around her.

The question that kept popping into his mind was: Why? What had happened to make her want to hide the true
Chelsea
from the world? Ben couldn't fathom what would compel a person to shut down her emotions, what would push her to stifle what most human beings reveled in. As he sat there with his elbow resting on the steering wheel, his chin tucked into the vee between his thumb and index finger, Ben decided that he was damned determined to find out.

~  ~  ~

Chelsea
stood at the counter in Ben's kitchen, layering thin slices of baked ham onto fresh, chewy rye bread. The euphoria of having saved the helpless trapped owl still had her feeling as though she were floating on air. Even Ben's request that they spend the afternoon together sharing a picnic lunch hadn't popped her bubble of happiness, although it should have.

She couldn't help feeling a bit betrayed by Ben. She had expected him to fulfill his end of their deal without all this hoopla about
getting to know one another
.

That first night, she'd fumed into the wee hours of the morning. How dare he suddenly decide to demand stipulations to a deal that had already been made, she had railed in the silence of her room. But then she'd mulled over his arguments in her head, and she'd been forced to admit that he did have a point.

It really wasn't fair of her to expect him to engage in a most intimate act with her, when she wasn't willing to cooperate. Her face heated at the mere thought.

The idea of being a participant in the act of sex was so alien to her. She'd never in her life imagined herself as part of a man/woman relationship. Why would she, when she knew she wasn't pretty enough, or good enough, or lovable enough to warrant a man's attention? Hadn't she been told again and again and again just how worthless she was? And hadn't she learned that each and every time she had tried to gain the affection of someone important to her, she had been slapped down and trampled on?