“Excuse the mess.” His gaze seemed to move over the heaps and mounds cluttering the table and counter space before he turned an apologetic eye on her. “I’m in transition. This isn’t normal.” Ben opened the door at the front of the trailer. She watched his back and listened as he shuffled things around in what she presumed to be the spare bedroom. He returned a minute later. “It’s good in there. I swear.” He ran a hand over his short honey-colored hair. Ben picked up her suitcase and placed it inside the bedroom before she could object. Then he set about cleaning off the kitchen table, his movements hurried and disorganized.
“Please. You don’t have to clean up for me.”
“I know, but we need space to work on my leg.”
“Oh! That’s right. You’re bleeding.”
He shrugged dismissively as he stacked a laptop, notebooks, blueprints, piles of receipts, and computer paper into another heap. Maleah set her travel bag down in the small bedroom then took the shopping bag with the ointments to the decluttered table.
“Do you have paper towels or a clean washcloth?”
“Maybe,” he said, opening one of the kitchen cabinets.
“Sit down,” she ordered and gestured to the bench at the table.
Ben held a paper towel under the faucet and then turned to Maleah. “I think I can handle this on my own.”
She shook her head and gave her most stern face. “No. I want to look. It’s my fault you cut yourself. I want to see if you need stitches. She stared at his ripped pant leg but didn’t see much blood. That was a good sign.
Ben sat, crossed one leg over the other to lift his cut ankle and calf, and began rolling up the remains of his torn pant leg. Maleah set the bottles and tubes of medicines on the table and picked up the wet towel. She stood over Ben’s lower leg and stared.
“I’ve had worse damage,” he said as he picked dead grass and a string from his ripped sock out of the scabby mess. Removing the debris from his cut caused blood to start leaking again. Ben glanced at the bottle of disinfectant. “Towel?”
Maleah reached out to either place the paper towel on the gash or hand it to Ben, but the bright red blood oozing from the cut and running over his ankle made her feel lightheaded. Oh no. She’d experienced this before. The sight of blood made her pass out. No. Hold it together, girl. Maleah tried to breathe, but the air was too shallow, too thin. There wasn’t enough of it. The lights were going out, and Maleah couldn’t stop the darkness from closing in on her.
“Maleah! Crap! Maleah!”
Before she opened her eyes, she listened to Ben panic. “What is going on? Maleah! Woman, wake up. Jesus! Should I call nine-one-one?”
“No,” she said, the lightheadedness fading slowly but steadily. “The sight of blood makes me pass out.”
“Shit! Don’t do that! That’s messed up.” He raked both hands through his hair, leaving wild tufts sticking out in different directions. “Why didn’t you tell me that before trying to help?!”
A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth at his emphasis on the word “before.”
Lying down felt nice. How did I get on the floor? She must have fallen. Maleah mentally performed a quick body check to make sure nothing hurt. Everything checked out, and her gaze landed on Ben. The years had aged him but in a good way. Maturity looked great on Ben Erickson, and his day job obviously increased muscle tone, or he worked out... a lot. But she didn’t think so. He didn’t have the air of a gym monkey. His muscle tone had the quality of endurance and strength. The three-day beard wasn’t scruffy or unkempt, but trimmed and neat. Maleah blinked and realized they’d both been staring at each other. Although she didn’t have the stress lines creasing her brows like he did.
“I forgot.” She pushed herself into a sitting position.
“You forgot that you black out when you see blood?” His tone indicated a level of disbelief and or irritation.
“Oops.” She shrugged before picking herself up.
“That isn’t something that’s easily forgettable,” he continued.
Maleah reached for the edge of the countertop and held on to something in case her body decided to betray her again. “I don’t see fresh blood often… or ever. Normally, if I get woozy, I sit down before passing out. I was distracted. My entire day has been distracting.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ben made an exasperated sound and sat back down to inspect his injury.
“I’ll step into the other room and take care of my ant bites and you do the same out here, mmm-kay?”
“Great idea,” he said, still sounding irritable.
She grabbed the ointment and disappeared into the other room.
Five
THEY MET BACK IN THE MIDDLE of his trailer, a.k.a. his office and living space. Maleah appeared to have freshened up… and she was gorgeous. In the span of a few magical moments, she’d done something with her hair and clothes. Yep, she’d changed her outfit again. Ben took an appreciative look at Maleah Hale. Foxy much? Dang, he couldn’t remember having such an instant response to someone before. And now it’d happened twice in the same day. He didn’t possess the words to describe the consuming mental and physical reaction. Struck dumb was the closest explanation.
Ben had also stepped into his room and changed into clean, untorn clothes after attending to the cut on his leg. He wasn’t concerned about the injury. It would heal and wasn’t deep. The story about how he’d attained the scratches far outweighed the damages. And he was starving and in need of that beer he’d wanted hours earlier.
“You want to walk over to The Jackalope with me?”
Maleah glanced away, then up at the ceiling as if she might be uncomfortable.
He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on the front of his jeans. “Sorry about my temper. I’ve never dealt with someone falling to the floor before. You took me by surprise, and it freaked me out.”
She nodded with the tiniest lift of her chin, acknowledging she’d heard him. Ben watched Maleah chew her lower lip. The way she stood, or the look on her face, brought back a memory of her as an awkward, skinny, and tall tween-aged girl. His heart warmed a little with the nostalgia. He suddenly recalled how sensitive and gentle Maleah had been when they were kids.
Ben stepped forward, moving closer to the door. “Can I buy you dinner? I haven’t eaten and could use a drink. I usually walk over to The Jackalope after work and grab something.”
“What is The Jackalope?” she asked.
“The brewery. They have a decent menu. How long’s it been since you were in town? The brewery opened over two years ago.”
“It’s been about two years. My parents retired to Hawaii, and Aunt Kiki is my last relative in town. She and I flew to visit them last year, and I haven’t been back to Three Peaks. I guess I’ve been too busy.”
“Time flies, yeah? Come to the brewery and fill me in on the rest of what you’ve been up to all these years.”
She still looked hesitant, so Ben opened the door and said, “I bet you need something to eat as much as I do.” At the grocery store, he’d noticed she was careful not to spend too much and wondered if she were struggling with her finances. He said, “I’m buying, so why not? You don’t even have to sit with me if you don’t want to.”