Ella nodded, wishing they’d never embarked on this stupid fake engagement. Everyone thought he’d be extra careful, but Rashid knew Khalid had no special reason to be extra cautious. She knew he wouldn’t be foolhardy, but so many things could go wrong. What if there was another explosion and his suit was torn again. She couldn’t bear to think of the pain he’d go through while healing.
Or what if things went really, really wrong?
“My mother can be a bit difficult. We know she loves us. Sometimes I think it’s hard for a mother to realize her children are grown and have their own lives.”
Ella thought about her parents. “Sometimes they just want to control children forever.”
“Or maybe they get used to it and find it hard to let go.”
“Your mother doesn’t have to like me,” she said.
“No, but it would make family life so much more comfortable in the future, don’t you think? We do celebrate happy occasions together—holidays, birthdays.”
“Bethanne said once she was a grandmother, she’d come around.”
Rashid laughed. “That’s our hope. But not right away. I want her to myself for a while.”
Would Khalid ever want someone to himself for a while? She wished it would be her.
Madame al Harum was distraught when they arrived. She rushed to the door. “Have you heard anything more?”
“No, Mother,” Rashid said, giving her a hug. “He’s still in Quraim Wadi Samil. Bethanne just took off to get him. It’ll be a few hours before they’re in Kuwait.”
“Call him. I need to talk to him,” she ordered.
“You and Ella.”
The older woman looked at Ella as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh.” She frowned. “Of course.”
“We both want Khalid safely back,” Ella said.
Madame al Harum nodded. “Come, we will call him.”
Khalid had maps and charts spread around him when the phone rang.
“Al Harum,” he said, hoping this was another call from the site, updating the situation.
“Khalid, it’s your mother. I wanted to tell you to be careful.”
“I always am, Mother.” He leaned back in his chair, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. He’d been studying the layout of the oil field, where the pipes had been drilled and the safety protocols that were in place. He figured he could recite every fact about that field in his sleep.
Glancing at his watch, he noted the plane would be arriving in less than an hour. He had talked to his second in command before he boarded and all the gear they needed was either on the plane or being shipped directly to the fire.
“We will watch over Ella for you,” she said.
Khalid’s attention snapped back to his mother. Ella. He should have told her this morning before she left, but he’d already been involved in learning all he could from the source. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt the phone call to go tell her goodbye.
“She returned safely?” he asked.
“Yes. She’s here. Take care of yourself, son.”
Before Khalid could say anything, he heard Ella’s soft voice.
“Khalid?”
“Yes. You got back all right, I see.”
“I didn’t know until we were on the plane what was going on. I wished you had told me. You will be careful, won’t you?”
“I always am.” He was warmed by the concern in her voice.
“From what I’ve heard, this one is really bad.”
He heard a sound from his mother in the background.
“It does seem that way. I’ll know more when I get there, but so far, this is probably the most challenging one we’ve tried.”
“I guess I couldn’t talk you out of going?” she asked hopefully.
He laughed, picturing her with her pretty brown eyes, hair blowing in the sea breeze. “No, but I wish I didn’t have to leave you. Not that I’d take you to a fire. I enjoyed yesterday.” He wished he could pull her into his arms this moment and kiss her again. If he hadn’t already been on the phone, nothing would have stopped him from explaining this morning—and taking another kiss for luck.
“Me, too.”
He waited, hoping she’d say more. The silence on the line was deafening.
“I better go. I’m expecting another call,” he finally said. Nothing was going to be decided on the telephone.
“Okay. Take care of yourself. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He hung up, wondering where else she’d be but at the cottage. She had a lease for another four years. And at this moment, he was grateful for his grandmother’s way of doing things.
The phone rang again and this time it was the field manager in Kuwait. Time to push personal agendas on the back burner. He had a conflagration to extinguish.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLA chafed at the way time dragged by. Rashid stayed for a while, then claimed work needed him and took off. Leaving her with Madame al Harum. Ella knew she’d be better off at home. She could try to take her mind off her worry about Khalid with work. Here she had nothing. She rose from the sofa where she’d sat almost since she’d arrived and walked to the window which overlooked the city. It looked hot outside. She’d rather be at the beach.
“I think I’ll go home,” she said.
“Stay.”
Turning, she looked at Khalid’s mother. “There’s nothing to do here. At home I have work that might distract me from worry.”
Sabria al Harum tried to smile. “Nothing will make you forget. I had years of practice with my husband when he went on oil fields. Always worrying about his safety. And he did not try to put out fires. I now worry about Khalid. Rashid assures me he knows his job. But he cannot know what a fire will do.”
“It makes it worse since he was injured once,” Ella said, looking back out the window.
“Yet you don’t seem to mind his scar.”
Ella shrugged. “He is not his scar, any more than he is defined by being tall. It’s what’s inside that counts.”
There was a short silence then Sabria said, “Many people don’t grasp that concept. He was terribly hurt by the defection of his fiancée when he was still in hospital.”
“She either freaked or was not strong enough to be his wife. Khalid is very intense. Not everyone could live with that.”
“You could.”
Ella nodded, tears filling her eyes. She could. She would love to be the one he picked to share his life. She would match him toe-to-toe if he got autocratic. And she would love to spend the nights in his arms.
“He was like that as a little boy,” Sabria said softly.
When Ella turned, she was surprised at the look of love on her hostess’s face. “Tell me,” she invited. She was eager for every scrap of knowledge she could get of Khalid.
“I have some pictures. Come, I’ll tell you all about my wild twins and show you what I had to put up with.” The words were belied by the tone of affection and longing.
Ella was surprised at the number of photo albums in the sitting area of Sabria al Harum’s bedroom. The room was bright and airy, decorated in peach and cream colors, feminine and friendly. She would never have suspected the rather austere woman to have this side to her.
Pulling a fat album from the shelves behind the sofa, Sabria sat and patted the cushion next to her for Ella to sit. Placing the album in Ella’s lap a moment later, she opened it. For the next hour, the two women looked at all the pictures—from when two adorable babies came home in lacy robes, to the smiling nannies who helped care for them, to the proud parents and on up to adulthood. There were fewer pictures of the two young men, too busy to spend lots of time with their parents. Then she paused over one last picture.
“This was the one taken just before the fire that scarred my son so badly. He has never had his picture taken since. People can be cruel when faced unexpectedly with abnormalities—whether scarring or handicaps. He was doubly injured with the loss of his fiancée. He has so m
uch to offer.”
Ella nodded. A mother always said that, but in Khalid’s case, it was true.
The phone rang. Sabria rose swiftly and crossed to answer the extension in her sitting room.
“Thank you,” she said a moment later.
“That was Rashid. The team has taken off from Quraim Wadi Samil. They’ll be in Kuwait in a couple of hours. There’s nothing to do but wait.”
“Then come with me to my studio. I’ll show you my work and you can advise me. Madame Alia al Harum thought I had promise. I want to earn a living by my work, but if it is really impossible, maybe I should find out now, rather than later.”
“You will not need to work once married to Khalid.”
Ella had no quick response. Only she and Khalid knew there would be no marriage.
“Come and see.”
Sabria thought about it for a moment then nodded. “I believe I should like to see what you do.”
The afternoon passed slowly. Sabria looked at all the work Ella had done, proclaiming with surprise how beautiful it was. “No wonder my mother-in-law thought you had such promise. You have rare talent. I know just where I’d like to see that rosy vase. It would be perfect in my friend’s bedroom. Perhaps I shall buy it for her. When will you begin to sell?”
Ella explained the original plan and then her idea to start earlier. Soon she and Sabria were discussing advantages and disadvantages of going public too soon, yet without the public feedback, how would Ella know which ideas were the most marketable.
Ella wasn’t sure if it was the situation, or the fact Sabria was finally receptive to seeing her as an individual—not someone out to capture her son’s affections—but she felt the tentative beginning of a friendship. Not that Sabria would necessarily wish to continue when the engagement was broken. Ella could see the dilemma—who took the blame? She didn’t want to. Yet in fairness, she needed to be the one. Khalid had been helping her. He did not need any more grief in his life.
They called Rashid for news before eating dinner on the veranda. Nothing new. Ella made a quick spaghetti with sauce she’d prepared a while ago and frozen. The camaraderie in the kitchen was another surprise. Ella thought she could really get to like Khalid’s mother.
“I’m going now,” Sabria said after they’d enjoyed dinner and some more conversation. Ella could listen to stories about the twins all week. Darkness had fallen. It was getting late. Nothing would change tonight. Khalid had told Rashid they needed to plan carefully since the fire was involved with two wells.
When she took a walk on the beach before going to bed, Ella looked to the north. She could see nothing. The fire was too far away. But she could imagine it. She dealt with fire every day—controlled and beneficial. Raging out of control would be so different. She offered another prayer for Khalid’s safety. Her decision to leave was best. She could see about selling what she’d already done and arrange shipping to Italy of her annealer and crucible and glass. She’d establish herself somewhere near enough to see her parents, but far enough away to make sure they knew she was not coming back to the family. Not until her brother’s situation was cleared up.
In the meantime, she did her best not to focus on Khalid, but everything from the beach to the house next door reminded her of him. She could picture him standing in her doorway. Looking at the art she had created. Holding the yellow vase in his house that his grandmother had loved. She ached with loneliness and yearning. Could she get by without him over the years ahead?
She had to. There was no future for her in Quishari. That part of her life was over.
Tomorrow she’d begin packing and making arrangements to move.
The next two days were difficult. Ella made Rashid promise to call her the moment he learned of anything—good or bad. There was nothing else she could do, so she began packing. She ordered shipping cartons and crates and enlisted the help of Jalilah to help her. Carefully they wrapped the fragile pieces in packing materials, then in boxes, then crates. It was slow work, but had to be done carefully to insure no breakage during transit.
Every time Khalid’s cordless phone rang, Ella’s heart dropped, then raced. She’d answer only to hear Rashid’s calm voice giving her an update. The materials had arrived. The maps had been updated. The plan was coming together. There was never a personal message for her. What did she expect? Khalid had far more important things to worry about.
But each time Rashid hung up, Ella’s heart hurt a bit more. One word, one “tell Ella I’m okay,” would have sufficed.
On the third day, Ella could see the progress. She had arranged for the shipping agent to pick up what was already packed. He would hold it at the depot until everything was ready and ship all at once. She and Jalilah were talking when Ella heard a car. Glancing out the window, she saw Rashid and Bethanne get out and hurry toward the cottage.
Fear swamped her as she rushed to the door. “What happened?” she called before they could speak.
Bethanne came to her first, hugging her tightly. “He’ll be okay,” she said.
“What?” Sick with fear, she looked at Rashid.
“Another well exploded. The fire is worse than ever. Khalid was hit by flying debris. One of the crew was killed, but Khalid’s in hospital. He’s going to be okay. We’re going now. You come with us.”
Ella wanted to refuse, but her need to see him was too strong. She had to make sure he was truly okay before leaving.
“I just need my purse and passport,” she said. She dashed to the house, Bethanne with her. “Bring a change of clothes and sleepwear. We’re planning to stay as long as we need to,” she said.
Ella went through the motions, but her thoughts stuck on Khalid. “He’s really all right?”
“No, but he will be. So far he’s still unconscious. We hope we’re there by the time he wakes up,” Bethanne said, helping fold clothes and stuffing them in the small travel bag.
Time seemed to stop. Ella felt like she was walking through molasses. She remembered hurrying to Alexander’s hospital bed—too late. He had died from the car crash injuries before she was there to see him. She couldn’t be too late for Khalid.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
“I can’t go,” she said.
Bethanne stopped and looked at her. “What?”
“I can’t go.” She pressed her hands against her chest, wishing she could stop the tearing pain. Khalid. He had to be all right!
“Yes, you can. And will. And greet him with all the love in your heart. He cannot have another fiancée abandon him when he’s in the hospital.”
Ella looked at Bethanne. “I’m not—” Now was not the time to confess she wasn’t really his fiancée. “I’m not abandoning him. But I don’t think I can go into a hospital.”
“We’ll be right with you. Come on. That’s all you need. Get your passport and let’s go.”
Four hours later they entered the hospital. Ella felt physically sick. The few updates Rashid had obtained during the flight had not been encouraging. Entering the new hospital, Ella felt waves of nausea roil over her. “I need a restroom,” she said, dashing to the nearest one. Bethanne followed.
After throwing up, Ella leaned limply against the stall wall. “I can’t do this again,” she said.
“He’ll be okay, Ella. He’s not Alexander. He’ll pull through,” Bethanne said, rubbing her back.
“Go on up. I know Rashid needs to see him instantly. I’ll clean up and be right behind you.” She wanted a few moments to herself. She could do this. She had to. The thought of Khalid lying helpless in bed was almost more than she could stand. But she also wanted to see him. At least one more time. And assure herself he was alive and would recover.
She tried hard to think of this as visiting a sick friend. But as she walked down the corridor, the smells that assailed her reminded her vividly of the frantic dash to see Alexander. Only the times got mixed up. She felt the fear and panic, but it was for Khalid. The door was ajar to the room she’d been d
irected to. She stood outside, drawing in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn’t lose her composure.
Rashid stepped out, smiling when he saw her. “I’m calling Mother. He’s awake. And probably wondering where you are.” He flipped open his mobile phone and hit a speed-dial number. Walking down the corridor, he began to speak when his mother answered.
Ella turned back to the room, stepping inside. Immediately she saw Khalid, the hospital bed raised so he was sitting. His face was bandaged, both eyes looked blackened. His right shoulder was also bandaged. Bethanne was on the far side, talking a mile a minute in English. Khalid watched her; he hadn’t seen Ella yet.
Which was a good thing. It gave her time to get over her shock, give a brief thanks he was awake and seemingly able to recover. Pasting a smile on her face she stepped into the room.
“You scared me to death!” she said.
Khalid swiveled around, groaned at the movement, but looked at her like she was some marvelous creation. Her heart raced. Nothing wrong with his eyes.
“You came,” he said.
“You said you’d keep safe.” She walked over to the bed. Conscious of Bethanne watching her, she leaned over and kissed him gently on the mouth. His hand came up and kept her head in place as he kissed her back.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, pulling back a few inches, gazing deep into his eyes.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, pulling her closer for another brush of lips.
“Why ever not?” Bethanne asked. “If Rashid were injured nothing could keep me away.”
“And nothing could keep me away,” Ella said. She straightened and took his hand in hers, feeling his grip tighten. Studying him, she shook her head.
“You look horrible,” she said.
He laughed, and squeezed her hand. “I feel like a truck ran me over. That was something we didn’t expect—another explosion. I think they had the wells linked in a way that didn’t show on the maps.”
“I heard one of your men died. I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.”
She leaned closer. “But I’m glad it wasn’t you.”
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