Charlotte sobered. “Because I can’t burden someone else with the baggage I carry.”
His expression revealed nothing, but she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. He hadn’t expected that kind of answer from her, and she was a little surprised by what she’d shared.
“You’re good at that.”
She blinked. “At what?”
He hesitated for a moment before he responded. “You have a knack for answering a question without really answering a question. Your answers never provide information. They just evoke more questions.”
“It’s how it has to be. I have to be careful about who I share things with, so I don’t trust people easily. That’s probably not what you wanted to hear, but it’s how things are for me.”
His expression hardened, and he regarded her thoughtfully. "I understand it better than you think. Remember what I told you about Gish? About his reputation for helping people?”
Charlotte tensed. She wasn’t sure where he was leading the conversation, but she didn’t like the change in his tone. “I remember.”
“He taught my brothers and me to do the same.”
She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she pursed her lips. “I never asked for your help.”
“Nope, you didn't. But I’m offering it. Not just while I’m in Ivy Springs. But anytime, anywhere. If you find yourself in trouble that you can’t climb out of, call me. I’ll be there for you, Charlotte.”
“Why?” The question seemed to leave her throat on a husky breath.
“Because if you’re not in trouble anymore, then you and I can get to know each other better. And I really want that to happen.”
Chapter Nine
Canned laughter rose from the television as the actors in the sitcom delivered lines that were lost on Ben. Though no guests were in the rooms on either side of him, he kept the volume at a decibel level that broke the quiet in his room without being disruptive or distracting. He’d stopped trying to watch the show hours ago, instead lying on the bed, with his legs crossed at the ankles and one folded arm on a pillow supporting his head. His gaze fixed on the ceiling, his thoughts whirling at a dizzying speed.
He should be sleeping. His workday would start soon, and his body felt fatigued. But his brain refused to rest. He relived his time with Charlotte, relishing the moments when she smiled, when she laughed, when she spoke in a soft, husky tone, or when her eyes shifted from smoky gray to the bright blue that he figured out appeared when she was happy.
Then he questioned other moments when he may have shared too much. Was it too soon to tell her he wanted to get to know her better and spend more time with her? Was it the wrong time to tell her she could count on him to help her out of whatever trouble she was in or with the secrets she kept?
He may have been insecure around girls as a teenager, but as an adult, Ben had never questioned himself when it came towomen. He knew what persona to wear. He knew how to read them and know what they wanted, what they expected from him. He assumed the role they needed him to play until it was time to move on. Doubts were never a factor in his relationships.
Until Charlotte.
He knew very little about her, but something felt so familiar when he was with her. He once read a book that described two strangers who believed they knew each other in a former life because their connection was so strong. Ben didn’t believe in reincarnation and all of that, but he believed some unknown force pulled him to Charlotte.
The universe might be telling him he was meant to be with her. Maybe the universe knew she needed his help, and Ben could admit he had a special place in his heart for “damsels in distress” as his family referred to them. But though he wanted to be there for Charlotte if she did indeed need help — and he would bet good money she did — he wanted more than that.
He wanted to date her, to have more opportunities to kiss her or hold her. He wanted to build memories with her. The strength of his desire for her surprised him. He hadn’t expected to meet someone like her while he worked a case or at any other time in his life, for that matter. He was content not to have it in his life, and just because his brothers had found love, he had been convinced it wasn’t in the cards for him.
Not that he was in love with Charlotte. No, that’s not what his feelings were. But what left him confused and almost afraid was that he could see himself being in love with her. And depending on what secrets she was keeping, it might lead to disaster for him.
He glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand, watching it until another minute ticked by on the display. Frustrated with his inability to rest, he pushed himself up and grabbed his laptop. Soon, he was lost in the details of his case, feeling a different type of frustration that he was no closer to having answers than when he arrived in Ivy Springs.
Using his finger on the touchscreen, he scrolled through the case research Luke had sent him. When his eyes grew tired, he scrubbed his hands over his face, his five o’clock shadow rough against his palms. After an hour of reading through the material he had committed to memory by now, his hand snaked around to rub the back of his neck.
The intel was routine, the same information they would find on anyone with a basic internet search and examination of public records. Mark Hanson grew up in Missouri and lived there most of his life. He married his high school sweetheart, but several years past and a few miscarriages happened before Caleb came into their lives. At the time, Hanson wasn’t working in construction. By all accounts, he ran a successful investment company while his wife Delia hadn’t worked outside the home.
After Caleb was born, the Hansons moved around quite a bit. They stuck to cities in Missouri until Delia committed suicide two years ago. Then Hanson and his son moved to Illinois, Oklahoma, Texas, and then Georgia. Ben attributed the man’s restlessness to the grief he felt at losing his wife, and the boy’s school records reflected it as well. Caleb went from being a model student to being quiet and withdrawn, his grades falling from excellent to fair or failing in some cases.
Luke had managed to get his hands on the investigation notes from Caleb’s Child Protective Services file, but those didn’t have much to reveal either. Ben didn’t want to know how his brother managed to find the intel. He suspected Luke’s methods skirted on the edge of legality, but right now, that didn’t matter as much as finding answers.
According to the file, Caleb showed no visible signs of physical abuse. There were no records of broken bones, sprains, or even bruises outside of what a normal nine-year-old boy would have. Any signs of emotional distress were easily explained as a withdrawn boy missing his mother.
Interviews with school personnel and neighbors indicated Hanson had a temper, but no one had seen him taking his anger out on his son. The father and son were apparently inseparable. When Hanson wasn’t at work and Caleb at school, they were always together. Caleb didn’t take part in extracurricular activities, and his life was pretty much spent at home or at school.
