“My recommendation would be daily sessions for a while,” Jay said. “You did great today. The more often we repeat, the better chance we have of your psyche cooperating.”
She felt more relaxed than she could remember being in…forever. “Okay.” She smiled at Allison. They had lost touch after the rape. Ellen had lost touch with most all of the friends her age after the rape. No one had known how to treat her. And she hadn’t known how to treat them.
“Same time in the morning?” Jay asked.
“Okay,” she said again and, nodding at Natalie, the receptionist who knew to bill her insurance for the appointment, Ellen walked out into the warm Arizona sunshine.
JAY WAS SITTING AT A booth in the diner late Thursday morning when a tall, lean man with thick silver hair approached and asked if he could join him.
The tone of his voice, the set of his face commanded respect.
“Sure,” Jay said, watching as the man slid onto the bench opposite him. This was no friendly, welcome-to-town visit. Jay knew that. But his curiosity won over his annoyance.
“I’m Will Parsons.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jay said, not bothering to put down his fork for a handshake.
Will studied him, and Jay returned the assessment.
“We’d like you to know that we appreciate your desire to help Ellen,” Will said after a time.
Jay took another bite of the delicious ham and cheese omelet he’d ordered. Nancy placed a coffee cup in front of Will and filled it.
“We know you mean well. You just don’t know her.”
The cheese was cheddar, not American, not processed. And the ham cut in chunks, the way he preferred. The eggs were fluffy. Overall, a perfect break fast.
“She’s special, our Ellen. One of those rare individuals who truly puts others first. Thinks of others first. She’s got a heart of gold, that girl.”
Jay would rather get to know Ellen on his own, but refrained from saying so.
“Always offering a helping hand. Not only to her sisters and brother, her mother, the church, but to anyone and everyone who might need a little assistance.”
He wondered how many people took advantage of that fact. Even in Shelter Valley.
“The thing is, she’s learning to trust again. Any breach of that trust could set her back five years in her healing. I’m sure you can understand how even the thought of something like that happening to her, after all she’s been through…”
Jay waited for Will to finish what he was saying.
“Bottom line is, we’d be extremely grateful if you’d stay away from her.”
Fork hanging midair, Jay looked at the older man. How grateful were they prepared to be?
Not that it mattered to him. After three sessions, Ellen was making real progress. She smiled at him when she entered his clinic room. And chatted easily as she was leaving. He wasn’t giving up on her.
Period.
“Also, I wanted to let you know that we’ll find your father for you,” Will said. “If he was ever in this area—and it appears from the university photo that he was—someone around here will know. Greg and I, Ben and Zack, Matt Sheffield, Sam Montford and all of the women, we’ll canvas the entire town. We’ll go through every photo album we have, every scrapbook—whatever it takes. We’ll find him for you.”
“If I leave Ellen alone.” The implication was clear.
“I didn’t say that.”
Of course not.
“I’d appreciate the help, sir. I’m about to ask for the sheriff’s assistance. While I’m confident that I’ll find my father eventually, I don’t have all the time in the world.”
“Because of your son, Cole, right?”
Ellen had told his secrets. Or at least part of them. He shouldn’t be disappointed.
He hadn’t told her in confidence. Not explicitly. He’d allowed her to ask around about his father—giving implied permission to speak of his personal business.
He was disappointed anyway.
“Right. I have to make some decisions regarding his future.”
“We’d like to help.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“And you’ll stay away from Ellen? We’ll make certain that if she needs a massage therapist, she’ll get one.”
If she needed a therapist? Implying that the work Jay was doing might not really be necessary? That it was somehow up to them to determine what Ellen needed?
And if they decided that massage therapy might be good for Ellen, after all, then what? Would they find a nice safe woman to help her?
A woman wouldn’t be nearly as effective as Jay was going to be. Not unless they wanted Ellen to feel safe only with a woman’s touch. Her problem wasn’t with women. A woman hadn’t attacked her.
“I have a question,” Jay said, placing his silverware in the middle of his half-empty plate before tossing his napkin on top.
“What’s that?”
“Who’s this we you keep referring to? Because I don’t think Ellen is included in this request.”
Without waiting for an answer, he stood, grabbed the bill and said, “You all, whoever you are, do Ellen a disservice even speaking with me like this. You belittle her, make her into something less than a fully competent human being capable of running her own life. If Ellen wants to stop seeing me, she’ll tell me so. Until then, she is my client and I am her massage therapist.”
With that, he turned his back on Montford University’s president—and one of Ellen’s mother’s best friends—paid for his breakfast, then went back to work.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ELLEN LIKED VISITING the garden. She now understood why the heroines of Shelter Valley were so passionate about their spa days. Why the folks at Big Spirits praised Jay as if he were an angel sent from heaven.
She’d seen Shawna on Thursday and told her about the sessions with Jay. Her counselor had smiled, said she wasn’t surprised and encouraged Ellen to continue.
But on Friday morning, lying on the table in the semidarkness, Ellen could hardly wait for the session to be finished.
“Relax.” Jay spoke for the first time during the session.
“I’m trying.” The padded metal dug into her chin.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“Is my touch upsetting this morning?”
“No, not at all.” It was the same as the day before. Flower strokes along her shoulders, neck and back.
But this morning the music didn’t take her away.
He moved silently for another few minutes then she heard him walk toward the door. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Ellen waited about two seconds, long enough for the latch to click shut behind him, jumped down, grabbed her purse and followed him out.
“Can you come in tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s clearly time to ratchet things up a notch.”
“Fine.” She was committed and proving she could handle it.
“Fine?” He started down the hall and Ellen walked beside him.
“Yeah. But…do you have a couple of hours this afternoon?”
Frowning, he glanced over at her. “Sure. Why?”
“I—I’m not sure. I don’t want to get your hopes up…but I think I found your father. Well, I didn’t find him myself. Not really. I’m not sure quite how the chain went but someone who knew Sam Montford’s wife, Cassie, knew of someone whose son played tennis for Montford in the day and… Anyway, Cassie says this couple knows who the guy in the photo is. They can meet with us this afternoon.”
Jay stopped, turned, and the vulnerability in his gaze melted her from the inside out. “Did they say if he still lives around here?”
“I don’t know. If they did, I didn’t hear about it. And no one is likely to tell me if they do find your dad. Most of the folks around here are encouraging me to stay away from you. But Cassie…” Ellen tried to find the right words to describe Cassie. “She’s
different. She gets locked up inside, sometimes, too. Her house is full of TVs. I think she uses them to avoid having to think too much about the past. She’s why I’m careful not to turn mine on unless I’m watching a specific show for a specific reason.”
Ellen was talking too much. But she felt better than she had in years. And she really wanted this to be right for him. Jay had given her so much and she wanted to be able to help him, too. To give as much as she took.
“Anyway, Cassie called me to set up a meeting with you. She didn’t say if the man in the picture would be there. We both thought it would be easier if you had someone to make the introductions. If you’re okay with it, I’d love to go with you.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Good. How about if I pick you up at three?”
“You think it would be better to arrive in your SUV rather than on my bike.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He grinned. “You didn’t have to.” Then he sobered.
“What?” Ellen moved aside so the person who had exited a room across from them could get by.
“You do understand that, as much as I need to find my father, I have no feelings of affection for him, right?”
“You pretty much hate the guy,” she translated. She’d been the last holdout with her own father. The last of her siblings to cling to faith in the man who had replaced them with new babies as if they were worn-out clothes rather than people.
“Close. Get rid of the pretty much and you’re spot-on.”
“I called my father after the…attack.” Ellen heard herself say the words, as if from afar. She avoided talking about that time in her life with anyone but Shawna. She’d moved on. Didn’t want anyone, including herself, to dwell on it.
She leaned against the wall and Jay stood in front of her, as though protecting her from anyone who might approach. She should have felt closed in, claustrophobic, trapped by his proximity. All she felt was…gratitude toward him.
“I begged him to come home. Only for a few days. I needed him so desperately. He was my daddy. I’d always felt so safe with him and I was so damned scared. Scared to sleep. Scared to wake up. Scared to leave my room. To go to church where other men would be close to me.”
She had never told her counselors about that—never described the depths of her fears.
“He said he’d like to, but his wife was having morning sickness and he was sure I’d understand that it wasn’t a good time for him to leave her.”
Jay’s lips pursed, the muscles in his chin and jaw bunching as though he was gritting his teeth.
“I called him a couple of days before I had to testify, too. His excuse then was that the baby had colic.”
That was when Ellen finally saw her siblings had been right—and she’d finally given up on him, too.
“Anyway, the point is, I get how you feel about your dad. I also appreciate how important it is for you to find him. For your sake. And for Cole’s.”
“Just so you aren’t picturing some grand reunion—”
“I gave up on grand dreams years ago.” Ellen straightened. “These days I’m happy with peaceful gardens.”
He couldn’t possibly understand the reference, but that was okay. He didn’t need to.
JAY WASN’T A GREAT PASSENGER. It was something he hadn’t mentioned to Ellen. Sitting in a vehicle subject to the driving skills—or lack thereof—of someone else, having nothing to do, was a mild form of torture. Add in thinking about possibly seeing his old man for the first time, and this trip was damned near excruciating. This situation was not for a guy who craved the freedom of his bike, the wind whipping around him and no family ties whatsoever.
The couple they were going to see, Daniel and Elise Black, had a place in the desert, about ten miles outside of Shelter Valley heading toward Tucson.
Jay noticed his leg bobbing. And concentrated on relaxing his muscles one by one. His leg stopped, but his thumb tapped the doorjamb. That came to his attention only after Ellen glanced over several times.
She looked cute in her blue shorts, sleeveless white top and matching blue-and-white flip-flops. She wasn’t wearing any makeup or jewelry. Nothing flashy to attract a man’s attention.
She had Jay’s anyway.
She didn’t say a word, didn’t chatter or engage him in a conversation he couldn’t keep up. She simply was…with him. A new experience. One he didn’t hate.
Jay handled life—and it’s challenges—on his own. He always had. Because he liked it that way.
But today was different. And no small part of the reason was Ellen.
“The house should be up ahead,” she said, slowing after having made a couple of turns. “I’ve been on this road. A girl I used to know in high school lived out here. But I’m not exactly sure which place is the Blacks’.”
The houses were spaced about five acres apart. In the middle of the desert. Jay couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to do that to themselves. Live in the middle of cactus needles and drought. Not to mention the poisonous reptiles and insects.
He couldn’t figure out a lot of things at the moment and didn’t like feeling this way. His jeans stuck to his ass against the leather of the seat. The back of his T-shirt was soaked, too, in spite of the cold air blowing from the vent pointed directly at him.
“If my old man’s there, I want you to step outside.”
“Okay.” Checking the address, she drove on. “Can I ask why? I mean, you know all my stuff, it hardly seems fair that—”
“I’m you’re therapist.”
“Massage therapist.”
“Nationally licensed medical massage therapist.” He was being a prick. And wasn’t proud of himself.
“I’m a certified family counselor.”
“Not mine.”
“So you get to know my stuff and I don’t get to know yours.”
“Right.”
“Then you’re no longer my therapist.”
What kind of crap was that? “Ellen.”
“No, really. If I’m not good enough to give back to you, then—”
“Fine. You can stay. But don’t blame me if you don’t like what you hear.”
“I won’t.”
“And no canceling tomorrow’s session because of it.”
“Fair enough.”
“Good.” Life wasn’t fair—but he chose not share that tidbit.
She turned into a driveway before Jay had realized she’d found the house. The woman did things to him.
After they parked and had gained entrance, Jay assessed Elise and Daniel as introductions were made. He would guess the couple was in their mid-fifties. Their welcome, while reserved, was polite and they motioned Ellen and Jay toward the living room.
Another man sat in an armchair in the corner of the room. He could be in his fifties, too, although his sun-weathered skin and sunken eyes made it hard to tell. His mouth hung open, his lips pulling inward over what appeared to be toothless gums.
Jay almost puked when he saw him. This gray-haired, wrinkled man was his father?
Could reality be worse than the nightmare he’d lived with for most of his life? He’d pictured a weak man. A selfish one. But one who had lived with a measure of success. A man who had made something of himself, after leaving Jay and his mother in his dust.
“Have a seat,” Elise said as Daniel pulled a couple of wooden rocking chairs closer to the couch.
“That’s Harry,” Daniel said, pointing to the guy in the corner. “He used to work for us, helping us with the horses. Harry took a hard fall about ten years ago, and when it was clear he was never going to be himself again, his wife left him. Elise and I felt it was our duty to take him in.”
Jay looked again at the man, noticed the straps holding him upright, and accepted the shame that swamped him. He’d prejudged. He knew better.
Approaching Harry, Jay took in the lost look in the man’s eyes, the lethargic set of his shoulders. “How you doing?” he asked softl
y.
Harry blinked. Smiled. But said nothing.
“We’re not sure how much he understands.” Elise brought in a tray of cookies. “But he’s easy to care for. Easy to please. Doctors say he’s not long for this world. We want to make certain that, for as long as he’s here, he’s comfortable.”
She placed a cookie in Harry’s hand. It took the man several seconds to get it to his mouth.
Jay sat in the rocker next to Ellen and surveyed the room. Though rustic, the place was clean, the wooden floors covered with large woven rugs.
“A buddy of mine used to play tennis for the university,” Daniel said. “I was at every match. I was there the day that picture was taken—Montford was about to make Arizona tennis history with number of consecutive wins. Bleachers that were normally half-empty were filled to capacity. Students came from as far as Flagstaff to watch.”
Jay nodded. He’d read the statistics. Montford lost that day to the University of Arizona. That was the school his father had apparently attended, although Jay could find no record of a J. Billingsley on the student roster that year. Or the years directly preceding or following it, either.
“The guy in the picture is Bob Scott—he’s on his way. Our friend tells us the woman is your mother.”
“That’s right.”
“I didn’t know her,” Daniel said. “But Bob and I go way back.”
“He’s still lives around here?”
“If you consider Phoenix around these parts. He’s a lawyer.”
An attorney. Anger built in Jay. His father was an attorney? Picturing a well-dressed professional man with his own thick hair and long legs, Jay’s blood started to churn. How dare the man desert his mother—a young woman not even out of her teens—make something of his life, but never look back? Did Bob Scott know that Tammy was dead? Did he know the circumstances?
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