Kiss of the Silver Wolf by Sharon Buchbinder Read Free Book Online Page B

shadowed Joab's face.
    Charlene stood to assist her, but the mother insisted on getting the child onto the bus by herself.
    Small hands, covered with fine light-colored hair pushed the brim of his hat back from his face. He impaled Charlene with his smile. “Bus,” he signed.
    She stifled a gasp. “He looks like Joey."
    Mrs. Jones smiled. “Now how'd you know that was Joab's nickname?"
    Charlene shook her head. “No, my brother Joey—right here—he looks like Joab."
    Mrs. Jones gaze followed Charlene's pointed finger. “Well, I'll be! They do look like brothers, don't they?” A firm hand gripped her forearm. Charlene looked up into Mrs. Jones’ green-blue eyes.
    "The boys—they're real hard-of-hearing or—like Joab—completely deaf. They need their routine; otherwise they get upset. Be sure to get them home before sundown. Okay?"
    "Yes, ma'am.” She blinked. Mrs. Jones eyes were crystal blue again, not a hint of green in them. “I'll see you this afternoon."
    She signed “Hello, good morning!” to each child as he climbed onto the bus with halting steps. Each mother thanked Charlene, said they'd see her in the afternoon, reminded her to “get the boys home before dark,” and waved good-bye. The shock of seeing her brother in each one of them punched her in the belly. They weren't really boys, but grown men with severe disabilities like her brother. An image of the Koran and the old family bible came to mind. She had to talk to Jethro, find out what it all meant—but damn that old man. When he stared at her with those ice blue eyes, it was almost as if he could see right through her. She'd have to work up the nerve to confront him.
    Secrets within secrets within secrets.
    One of her charges grunted, interrupting her disturbing thoughts. She glanced in the rearview mirror and Justus? Joab? smiled, waved at her, and signed: “Joey is my friend.” They're really children. All innocent and sweet, like Joey.
    The summer heat lingered and then autumn blazed through the orchards, with trees bursting into red, orange and gold flames. During the month of August, Charlene eased into a routine of driving in the morning, coming home to crate apples, then running out to pick up the kids in the late afternoon. Doing business under her aunt's company name, Janie Appleseed , she had boxes of apples in her cellar and orders from wholesalers piling up on her kitchen table. It was exhausting, back-breaking work. Every now and again, she wished someone would take care of her—but she couldn't give voice to that thought. One foot in front of the other.
    Each night Zack came to her house after she'd fed Joey and put him to bed. They would share a meal—and something more. Much as she wanted to be with him, part of her was afraid to take the next big step and accept his marriage proposal. She valued her independence. Would she lose her identity, her independence, if they married?
    One evening he arrived at her house and told her that Joab needed his school books, they'd been left on the bus.
    He handed her book bag. “I'll stay here with Joey, while you run them over to his house."
    Upon her return, she opened the door and inhaled the mouth-watering aromas of sizzling meat and herbs. By candlelight, the simple dining room was transformed into a romantic hide-away. Everywhere she looked, there were daisies and candles. A white lace tablecloth covered the table and in the center was a large vase of red roses.
    Her hands flew to her mouth.
    "Madam,” he pulled a chair out and bowed. “Please be seated."
    "What's going on?"
    "I thought the city girl might need a fix. So tonight, you are dining Chez Zack. I am your chef, your server and your dishwasher. Your wish is my command."
    Tears sprang to her eyes. “How did you know?"
    "I have my ways.” He poured a glass of wine for each of them. “Now, relax and enjoy your first course, a little apple and walnut salad on a bed of fresh field greens with a hint of balsamic