Сандра Браун: Fanta C

"It's not tall enough, Mom."

"It'll have to do." She dusted her hands. "Well, here I go." She placed the ladder beneath the tree. Stepping out of her pumps, she climbed to the top platform of the ladder, which only put her a few feet above the ground. By stretching on tiptoe, she was able to grasp the lowest branch. She hung by it, suspended for a moment, before walking up the stout trunk of the tree until she could get a foot into the lowest notch.

Matt jumped up and down and clapped his hands. "Gee, Mom, you're just like Rambo."

"Thanks," Elizabeth said grimly. The palms of her hands were already scraped raw. The mean part about it was that Lilah probably could have shinned up the tree and already been safely down by now with the kitten in her arms. As it was, the kitten was still stranded and Elizabeth still had a long way to go.

"I can see your petticoat," Megan observed.

"Sorry, but I can't help that." Elizabeth puffed as she struggled to heave herself up onto the branch. Finally she succeeded and paused to rest. The cat had started to whine again.

"Hurry, Mom."

"I'm hurrying," she said testily. She worked her way up through the branches of the tree, careful never to look down. Heights made her dizzy.

At last she reached the kitten. Speaking to it soothingly, she cupped the animal's belly in her hand and lifted it off its perch. Making her way down was a considerably greater challenge working with only one hand. She made it to the halfway mark without mishap and called down to the children. "I'm going to drop her from here. You'll have to catch her, Megan. Ready?"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Ready?"

"Ready," Megan said dubiously.

Feeling like the most heartless creature ever born and ignoring her children's reproachful eyes, Elizabeth let go of the kitten. With all four legs extended, the cat landed on the ground at Megan's feet.

The girl reached for the kitten, but it was terrified and bolted. It raced across the grassy yard, through the hedges and straight between Thad Randolph's feet. Screaming, the children raced after Baby, unmindful of their mother's anguished pleas for them to stay where they were.

She rested her cheek against the trunk of the tree and resigned herself to playing out this farce to its very end. She listened as her children explained to the single man who lived in the house behind them what had happened. Their young voices rang through the late afternoon tranquility.

Periodically, Elizabeth could hear Mr Randolph making a comment like "You don't say?" "I'm sure Baby was frightened." "No, of course it wasn't your fault, Matt. Kittens just naturally like to climb trees."

"And now our mom is stuck up there."

Elizabeth groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. She had been praying that they'd tell their tale and that he'd eventually tire of it. She envisioned him patting them on their heads dismissively and carrying into his house the sack of groceries he'd been holding in his arms when the cat charged between his feet.

But when Elizabeth opened her eyes, she saw through the branches of the sycamore that the sack of groceries was sitting on the hood of his Jeep Cherokee wagon and that he was holding the kitten in his large hands. Baby was curled into a ball and obviously enjoying his attention.

"Your mother got the kitten down?"

"Uh-huh. But she's still up in the tree. Mo-o-oo-om!" Matt yodeled across the yard.

"I don't think she can get down."

Elizabeth had always been proud of Megan's intuition, which was advanced far beyond her years. Now she wanted to throttle her for it.

"I'm… I'm fine," Elizabeth called out. She hastily placed her stockinged foot on the next branch and lowered herself to it. Lilah had advised her to appear helpless and distraught in front of her bachelor neighbor, but this was ridiculous.

She saw Thad Randolph pass the purring kitten to Megan, but he was distracted. He was looking at the tree with narrowed eyelids as though trying to spot her through the branches. The trio, with Baby nestled secure in Megan's arms, came walking across the adjoining lawns.

"She's just a mom," Matt said disparagingly. "I don't think she can climb trees good."

"You said she was just like Rambo," Megan said in her mother's defense.

"She got up there, but I don't think she can get down." Matt looked up at Thad solemnly. "You know how moms are."

By now the group had reached the base of the tree. "Mrs Burke?"

"Hello, Mr Randolph. How are you?"

She could tell that he resisted the impulse to smile, but with difficulty. "Fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said, casually brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. For all her composure, they could be chatting over the rosebush hedge that separated their property.

"Do you need any help?"

"I think I can manage, thank you. I'm sorry my children involved you."

"Glad to be of service." She watched his brows draw together. "Are you sure you can make it all right?"

Elizabeth glanced down at the ground. It tilted to a precarious angle. "F-fairly sure."

He seemed doubtful. For a moment he said nothing, then, as though reaching a decision, he said, "Grab that branch — no, the other one — with your right hand. That's it. Now move your left foot… yeah, there."

Instructing her in a masculine voice that reminded her of far-off and friendly thunder, he talked her down. She had almost made it when they all heard the sound of ripping cloth.

"Oh!" She was on the lowest branch, about to place her foot on the stepladder when she was brought up short.

"What was that?" Thad asked.

"It's… uh, I think something got caught on the tree limb."

"What?"

"One of those frilly things," Matt informed him helpfully. "She wears all that lacy junk under her clothes."

"Matthew!" Elizabeth's cheeks went up in flames. She hoped her neighbor thought the deep blush that covered her face was caused by her strenuous and so far unsuccessful, attempts to unsnag her petticoat from the branch.

"Here, I'd better do it." Thad stepped to the top of the ladder.

"I can do it."

"No, you'd better concentrate on holding on with both hands. I'm afraid you're going to fall."

Glancing down at the ground, which seemed to recede the closer she got to it, Elizabeth did as she was told and held on for dear life while her bachelor-stranger-neighbor of the gray hair and broad shoulders flipped back her taupe twill skirt and buried his hands in yards of linen and lace looking for the hangup. It seemed to take forever for him to find it.

"There," he said finally, "found it." He fingered the ripped material. "It only made a little tear. Maybe you can mend it."

"Yes, maybe," Elizabeth said, gently tugging the lacy hem of her petticoat from between his fingers. "Thank you."

Standing on the ladder, his face was brought up almost to a level even with hers. Elizabeth had never been this close to him. Never before close enough to see that his eyes were very blue. Never before close enough to notice that his hair wasn't totally gray, but salt and pepper, heavy on the salt. Never before close enough to smell his cologne which made her think of saddles and sex. And seeing his fingers rubbing a hapless strand of torn lace between them had made her eyeballs catch fire and her mouth go dry.

"You're welcome," he said quietly. His eyes remained steadily on hers. "You're shaking, you know. Let me help you down."

He stepped to the ground and moved the ladder aside. Then, reaching up, he grasped her around the waist. His wide hands settled on either side of it. She felt his strong fingers fold around her waist, almost meeting at her spine. "Put your hands on my shoulders and lean forward. I'll do the rest."

Blindly, Elizabeth obeyed. The cloth of his shirt felt soothing against her scraped palms as she tentatively laid them on his shoulders. Her hands looked very small and feminine there. Squeezing her waist slightly, he lifted her from the branch. She landed against him and threw him slightly off balance. His arms wrapped around her. He staggered back a few steps, taking her with him.