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 the newspaper office, Teddy Marshall, Charles’s typesetter, ran the printing press. The noise drilled into Mary’s aching head until it throbbed. The strong smell of ink hung in the air, as if the printed words hung there too. In her mind, frightening headlines swirled: “Medicine Man Makes Off With Orphan. Local Boy Claimed By Peddler.” At the prospect of losing Ben, Mary could barely breathe.
Charles rose from behind his desk, and Mary put Ben down. Still clutching the ball, the little boy ran to his uncle, throwing his free arm around Charles’s legs, and beamed up at him. “A nice man gave me a new ball!”
Charles shot Mary a puzzled look, and then smiled at Ben. “That’s a great ball, Ben.”
Though taller and leaner than Sam, her brother-in-law looked enough like her deceased husband to have been his twin instead of his older brother. Some days the resemblance hurt, fueling Mary’s regrets, but today the likeness brought comfort. Since Sam’s death, Charles had been her rock. He would help her.
He kissed Mary’s cheek. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“I’ve got a headache.”
“One of your bad ones?”
She nodded. If only Charles knew. This time her headache was six feet tall and refusing to leave town.
Without a word, Charles ushered her into a chair, then led Ben into the back where he kept treats and toys for his children. Ben could play freely there while she unburdened herself to Charles.
He returned and gave her a smile. “Ben’s nibbling graham crackers and rolling his ball into the wall.” He motioned across the street. “You just missed Addie. She finished her column, then walked over to her shop to go over the accounts. Why don’t you join her for a cup of tea? I know she’d like a break, and a visit might do you good. I’ll keep an eye on Ben.”
Charles’s wife had become Mary’s best friend. She’d like nothing better than to confide in Addie. But her thoughts about Luke Jacobs were mere speculation. Still, they would alarm her sister-in-law, especially after what she’d been through with William and Emma.
“Actually, I want to talk to you.” Mary glanced out the window, relieved to see no sign of Luke Jacobs. “Alone.”
The crease deepened between Charles’s brow, and he took a seat across from her. “Sounds serious.”
“Have you heard about the new peddler in town?”
He nodded. “We’re always looking for news. Today, he was it.” He smiled. “From what my reporter said, you weren’t on the town’s welcoming committee.”