LITMIR.BIZ

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like mud pies,” he replied, making them all laugh.

      “I like to make mud pies,” Jenny said, and then giggled. “But I don’t ever eat them.”

      “Thank goodness,” Miranda said with a laugh.

      After the sweet treat it was time for them to ride the carousel. Henry chose a white horse with a lei of blue flowers around its neck and Clay climbed on the brown one next to him. Miranda and Jenny took the horses right behind them.

      As the music began and the carousel started to move, Miranda was surprised to realize she was having fun...she was having lots of fun with Clay. He was a charming tease and made her and the kids laugh. Although any real conversation was tough with the music and the noise of the crowd, what they had shared had been so natural and easy.

      It was strange; she didn’t believe he was consciously seducing her and yet she somehow felt seduced. She watched now as he leaned over his horse, as if pretending to spur it to run faster. Henry laughed in delight and also leaned over his horse.

      That was part of his seduction, that he was so good with the kids. His enjoyment of them appeared to be one hundred percent genuine and it was obvious they adored him.

      His beautiful eyes often lit with laughter and he had one of those smiles that made it almost impossible not to smile back.

      She was appalled to recognize that she was even more sexually attracted to him than she had been. Of course, it had been almost two years since she’d been with a man. She’d stopped having sex with Hank almost a year before they had divorced.

      Clay was a very sexy, handsome cowboy. Why wouldn’t she be sexually attracted to him? That certainly didn’t mean she was going to act on that attraction.

      “How about we go see if Henry and I can win a couple of stuffed animals for the ladies?” Clay asked as they got off the carousel.

      “That sounds like fun!” Henry replied. “Can we, Mom?”

      Her intention had been to skip the games of chance, but she wound up capitulating to the majority. They had just about made it to those particular booths when three familiar teenagers bumped into them.

      Jason Rogers, Robby Davies, and Glen Thompson were all seniors. They were big guys with a penchant for bullying younger and smaller kids at the school.

      “Hey, chill out,” Clay said as they all shoulder-bumped, jostling Jason into Henry.

      “Well, if it isn’t strait-laced Silver,” Robby said. His friends laughed as if he’d said something amazingly funny.

      Miranda’s cheeks burned with a touch of embarrassment. She’d known that some of the boys at school called her that behind her back, but this was the first time it had been said to her face.

      “Wise guy, it might not be so smart to bad-talk a teacher during finals,” Clay said.

      “Ha, the joke is on you, you dumb cowboy. I’m not in any of her classes,” Robby replied, his tone filled with an utter disrespect that surprised her.

      “Come on, Robby,” Jason said, as if sensing the tension that was suddenly in the air and wafting off Clay.

      “Yeah, man, let’s go. I’m starving,” Glen added.

      “Do I smell beer on your breaths?” Miranda asked. She was sure she smelled booze.

      “Underage drinking is a serious offense,” Clay added. “Maybe we all need to go find Chief Bowie.”

      “Let’s go,” Glen said. “I don’t want to get in any trouble. My dad would kill me.”

      “I suggest you all move on,” Clay replied. His voice held a hard edge. “But before you go, I believe you owe Ms. Silver an apology.”

      Robby’s eyes held a hint of anger. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a surly snarl.

      “And Robby, a word of advice...be careful who you call a dumb cowboy in this town. One of those dumb cowboys just might wind up giving you a butt-whipping you’ll never forget.”

      Clay held Robby’s gaze until finally Robby looked away. “Come on, guys. We’ve got more important things to do than waste our time here,” he said.

      “What a piece of work,” Clay said as the three disappeared into the crowd.

      “I think they all were booze-brave. I’ve never seen Robby be so disrespectful.”

      “Let’s just forget about them.” Clay threw his arm around her shoulders and looked at the kids. “Come on, let’s go win some stuffed animals.”

      She told herself she should step away from him and dislodge his arm from around her. But the night was cool and his arm was so very warm—and there was nothing even vaguely sexual about it.

      In any case, he was the one who withdrew his arm when they reached the first booth. You had to shoot water into a target to fill a balloon, and he insisted they all play.

      Their competitive sides were definitely on display as they hooted and hollered in an effort to distract each other. In the end Clay won and his prize was a flashy plastic bracelet that he gave to Jenny.

      “That was just for a warm-up,” he said and gestured toward the next booth where stuffed animals hung from hooks overhead. Poodles and tigers, baby elephants and bears all challenged them to take one home.

      By the time the night was over, both Jenny and Henry held stuffed bears in their arms. Miranda’s stomach hurt from laughing so much. Her belly was full of carnival food and even though she didn’t really know Clay any better than she had before, she felt a strange kind of closeness to him...a connection forged in laughter and fun.

      And they’d had fun. She’d enjoyed his company and that was why she didn’t want to put herself in this kind of position again with him. He could finish up helping Henry with baseball, but that was it.

      Once again, as they headed down the midway in the direction of the parking area in the distance, they were elbowed and bumped by the crowd. The carnival’s illumination made everything a beautiful color against the darkness of the night.

      They paused to turn back and admire the many colored lights that outlined the Ferris wheel rising up in the dark sky and every other ride along the midway. The kids oohed and aahed over the lights, but she could tell both of them were getting tired. It had been a long evening for them.

      They turned back to continue their trek to the car. A hard push moved Miranda sideways and at the same time something splashed all over the front of her sweater. Darn, somebody had spilled a drink on her. She stared down at the front of her sweater as a noxious odor filled the air.

      “What the hell?” Clay shouted. He stared at her for a moment and then grabbed her sweater by one side and ripped it off her. He tossed it to the ground. “Did it get on your blouse? On your skin?” he asked urgently.

      “N...no.” She stared at him, her head spinning with what had just happened. “What is it? It smells like rotten eggs.”

      “It’s sulfuric acid.”

      “S...sulfuric...” Her voice trailed away as stunned shock swept through her. She stared at Clay and then looked down at her sweater. The acid had already begun eating away at the cotton threads.

      Her knees weakened and the crowd around them blurred. Acid. As she thought about what would have happened if the liquid had hit her face, a chill she had never felt before iced her entire body.

      Clay pulled her close to his side, along with the two children who obviously knew something was horribly wrong. She leaned into him, desperately needing his warmth, his strong support.

      “We need to call Dillon,” he said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

      “Sh...should we pick up the sweater?”

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