The Woman for Dusty Conrad

by Tori Carrington

  Dusty then accepted Nancy’s black vinyl raincoat and hung it along with Ellie’s in the hall closet. “Jolie and I were just sitting down to a light dinner. Ellie, would you like to nibble on something?” He held his hand out to her. She took it, but not with enthusiasm. Instead there seemed to be a fatalistic automation to her movements as she followed Dusty toward the kitchen.

  Jolie looked at Nancy, then followed. In the doorway of the kitchen she watched Dusty settle Ellie into a chair, then place a small bowl of soup and half a sandwich in front of her, although the girl looked about as interested in the food as the color of the walls. He switched on the television on the counter, turning the channels until he found a cartoon of some sort or another.

  Then he crouched down in front of Ellie. “We’re just going to be in the other room, okay, Ellie? Not ten feet away. Come get us if you need anything, all right?”

  The little girl nodded solemnly, her eyes fastened on the cartoon, though Jolie wondered if she really saw it.

  As soon as the three of them stood back in the living room, Nancy cleared her throat. “Thanks. This isn’t something Eleanor needed to hear and normally not something I would handle in front of her. It’s just…well, this case has me so rattled, you know. I lived on the same block as Jeff Johansen growing up and…well, my objectivity is a little on the shy side right now.”

  Jolie nodded, her heart going out to her. She’d felt the same way during the fire. “That’s all right.”

  With Ellie out of the way, Dusty’s stance completely changed. Far from looking like a man in control, he appeared ill at ease somehow. “I’m sorry, Nancy, but I don’t think we can help you.”

  Jolie’s stomach pitched to her feet. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  “Please just hear me out.” Nancy cleared her throat, then rifled through her barely creased briefcase, producing a sheaf of papers. “With Jeff Johansen in the hospital, we need someone to look after Eleanor. As I’m sure you are both aware, neither Jeff nor Angela have any living relatives. At least not any in a position to take care of a five-year-old. Which puts us in a bit of a bind.” Nancy smiled. “I want you to look after her.”

  Jolie’s heart thudded loudly in her ears. “Of course.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dusty said at the same time.

  Nancy blinked, looking between them both, her smile vanishing. “Normally I wouldn’t even think to ask you to do this. While my files show that you both completed foster-parenting courses eight months ago, they also show that you’ve never fostered.” She held up the papers, then awkwardly moved to tuck them back into her case. “For the record, do you mind telling me why not?”

  “I’ve been out of town,” Dusty said.

  “I see.” Nancy craned her head toward the kitchen. Jolie couldn’t make out anything and suspected Nancy couldn’t, either. “Look, I’d never dream of asking you to do this unless I didn’t have any other choice. It’ll be only one…two nights tops, until I can figure out where to place Eleanor more permanently.”

  Jolie made a small sound. “More permanently?”

  She nodded and briefly bit on her bottom lip. “I’ve consulted with the physicians in charge at the hospital. Things are, well, pretty touch-and-go with Jeff right now. And even if…” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat again. “When Jeff does pull through, he’s facing an extended hospital stay and extensive rehabilitation therapy. He can’t possibly look after Eleanor himself.”

  Jolie caught Dusty about to say something and quickly reached out to touch his arm. “Nancy, would you excuse us a moment?”

  The children’s services rep looked suddenly rattled. “Um, sure. Of course.” She gestured uncertainly, then moved in the direction of the kitchen. “Why don’t I go sit with Eleanor. You know, so you can have some privacy.”

  Jolie smiled softly at her. “Thank you. We shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

  As soon as Nancy’s footsteps disappeared down the hall and Jolie heard her speaking softly to Ellie, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and closed her eyes.

  “Jolie, I…”

  She held up a trembling hand. “Please, don’t say anything. Not this moment. I need to think.”

  She couldn’t bear to open her eyes. View the question in Dusty’s eyes. She knew he wanted to turn Nancy and little Ellie away. She also knew why.

  The young woman apparently didn’t know of their…separation. Then again, why would she? As far as the town knew, Dusty had resigned from the fire station to take a more lucrative construction position in Toledo. Nothing more, nothing less. If they had questions as to why this was the first time he’d been home in six months, they didn’t pose them to her. If they found it curious that she’d never gone to visit him, they never breathed a word.

  Amazing how easily one accepted a lie because the truth was too difficult to swallow. Everyone, herself included, found it preferable to think that what had happened between her and Dusty was temporary. That now that he was back, everything would go back to being right again.

  “I need to take her, Dusty,” she whispered, finally opening her eyes and looking at him.

  She almost wished she hadn’t. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Jol.”

  “Why?” she asked, tightening her arms.

  He glanced away. “You know why.”

  “Because you’re leaving?”

  He shifted his weight from his right to his left foot, then shoved his hands into his front jeans pockets. “That…and more.”

  “Because you’re afraid that my inability to bear you kids might be behind my need to do this?”

  His gaze snapped to hers and she knew instantly it was true.

  “Look, Dusty, neither of those issues factor into my desire to look after Ellie.” She paced a short way away, her back to him. “I know you’re leaving. You don’t have to tell me that. I also know that I’m infertile. Your reminding me of that doesn’t change that, either.”

  “But you need my consent.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder.

  “Okay, maybe consent is the wrong word. Perhaps silence is more the description I’m looking for.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Both you and I know Nancy wouldn’t even be here if…”

  Jolie swallowed. “If she knew the truth about us?”

  He averted her gaze. “Yes.”

  Jolie knew it was true. While it wasn’t unheard-of for single parents to take in a foster child, assigning a single woman to look after a five-year-old was probably far from the norm.

  She turned her head back toward the darkened front window. “Look, Dusty, I can’t pretend to understand what you’re thinking right now. Maybe you believe this might be some sort of ploy on my behalf to try to get you to stay.” She winced at the words. “But it’s not. What I can tell you is that I know what I’m feeling. And right now that’s the need to look after that little girl in there. To help her past the shock she’s feeling after losing her mother…her house…knowing her father might not make it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And I know I can do that. If…” Her voice cracked. “If for no other reason than because I’ve been there.”

  She turned pleading eyes on him, but he still wasn’t looking at her. She stepped eagerly forward and grasped his arms in her hands. “I know what she’s feeling right now, Dusty. I know what it’s like to have your whole world fall apart around your ears. To think that God must have some sort of personal vendetta against you…if you’re not already questioning whether there is a God or not. I see. I understand. I can help.”

  He looked at her, his eyes full of inexplicable emotion. “Or you’ll die trying.”

  She slowly released her grip.

  He restlessly ran his hand over his hair. “Jolie, I don’t object to this because I think you’re incapable of doing exactly what you’re saying. I was there, too. Remember?”

  How could she forget? Dusty’s face was the fi
rst friendly one she saw when she was carried from the house over the shoulder of a fireman.

  “I just don’t think…this is a great idea right now.”

  She smiled sadly. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you hope to talk me out of this.”

  He grimaced. “Okay. Let’s begin with you were one of the firefighters involved in fighting the fire. That you were the one who went into that house and rescued Ellie. That even now you might be blaming yourself for the loss of her mother…the injuries suffered by her father.”

  Her spine snapped upright, despite the growing acidic feeling in her stomach.

  “Then there is the fact that…our marriage is over.”

  She visibly winced. It was the first time either of them had said it aloud in a concrete way. Our marriage is over. No maybes. No perhaps. Merely an inarguable “is.”

  She battled back the pain spreading throughout her chest cavity like a ragged crack across ice. “Please, Dusty,” she whispered, searching his eyes. “I’ve never asked you to put aside your feelings, to do something for me based simply on trust alone.” She realized the truth in her statement even as she said the words. “Never.”

  A shadow of sadness entered his brown eyes. “Did you ever think that that may have been part of the problem?”

  She shivered and tried again. “I’m asking you now, Dusty. Give me these two days. You don’t have to stay. I’ll sign the…papers. You can leave. I’ll just tell them you were called back to work or something.”

  He shook his head. “No, Jolie. From what I’ve seen so far, you haven’t told anyone about the truth of our situation now. If I agree to this…you may never tell anyone the truth.”

  She mentally stumbled over that possibility. “I will,” she whispered, though even she wasn’t convinced by the watery sound of her voice.

  Jolie’s shoulders sank and she slowly turned away from him. So this was it, then, huh? It took a little girl in need of a temporary home to finally shine a spotlight on the reality of her situation. Her marriage was over.

  She felt the heat of his hand before she actually felt his fingers resting first against her shoulder, then the side of her neck.

  She resisted the urge to lean into his touch. Just like she had too many times before. “Please, Dusty. This is something I need to do.”

  His hand stilled and he didn’t say anything, for what seemed like forever. “Okay,” he said quietly, his fingertips making her sensitive skin tingle. “But if we’re going to do this, then I’m going to have to stay here for the duration. We can…we can work the rest of it out in a couple days. When Nancy finds her a more permanent home.”

  Jolie turned in his arms so quickly she nearly toppled them both over. She hugged him, her eyes filling with scalding tears as she rested her head against his shoulder.

  At first, it appeared as if he didn’t know what to do. His arms lay limply against her hips. Then he curved his hands around her back, pressing his fingers firmly against her spine. She could have sworn she heard a low groan deep in his chest.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for this, Dusty.”

  Chapter 10

  Dusty quietly climbed the steps to the second floor. Dusk had long since settled and he used the light from the foyer to guide his way. After a long, trying evening with Ellie, they’d put the shell-shocked five-year-old to bed in the guest bedroom a little more than an hour ago. He came to a stop at the top of the stairs. And this was the fourth time in that same hour that Jolie had stolen away to gaze upon the girl from the open doorway.

  Dusty watched as she wrapped her arms around herself and absently squeezed. His throat contracted around a swallow, and the shallow sound brought her head around to face him.

  He managed a smile. “Any change?”

  She quietly pulled the door until only a few inches remained between the edge and the jamb, then met him at the top of the stairs. “She finally appears to have fallen off to sleep. I…I wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but I was afraid I’d wake her up again.”

  He nodded.

  Earlier, while they were all downstairs, he and Jolie had tried to make everything appear as normal as possible, attempting to gently draw Ellie out from her state of shock. But Ellie had been minimally responsive; the little girl had kept a deceptively calm mask in place. She’d even obediently eaten a light dinner of spaghetti. But after they had shown her upstairs to the guestroom, where there wasn’t one stuffed animal, not one item that was familiar to her, Ellie had silently begun to cry the instant she thought they had left the room.

  “Nancy says she’s contacting a child psychologist first thing in the morning,” Jolie said quietly, as if reading his mind.

  “Fat amount of good that’s going to do us now.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But at least she’s finally sleeping.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He motioned for her to precede him down the stairs, and she led the way back to the kitchen, where she fixed herself a cup of hot cocoa then asked if he wanted anything. He shook his head and took a beer from the refrigerator. She leaned against the island, slowly sipping from her cup. He popped the cap off the beer and took a long swallow, staring off into space. The only sound was the tick-tick of the old grandfather clock in the foyer. And the overly loud purr of Spot, where she was curled up on one of the chair cushions, fast asleep. The cat had seemed to take up residence in their home. Strange, since she’d never shown much interest in the place before.

  Jolie shifted, the rustle of her clothes loud in the quiet room. “Do you think what we’re feeling right now is natural?” she asked.

  He looked up to find her staring through the back window. “What would that be?”

  She absently shrugged as if unsure, herself, how she felt. “I don’t know. So…helpless. Powerless to take away little Ellie’s ghosts and fill her mind and heart with all things light and happy.”

  She glanced at him and he smiled. “I’d say it’s natural. And not just for us. I imagine all parents feel that way when something traumatic happens to one of their children.”

  She glanced quickly away at his mention of the word parents. He squinted at her, watching as she ran the tip of her index finger along the rim of her mug.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She quietly cleared her throat. “Do you, you know, think it would have made a difference if we had been able to have children of our own?”

  There it was. The exact question he’d been dreading. The number one reason why he hadn’t thought it a good idea for Jolie to take in Ellie. Not with all that was going on between the two of them now. Not given the unstable emotional state she was in as a result.

  She sighed and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I’m not asking for the reason you think, Dusty. And I’m certainly not looking to place any blame, or make excuses. I’m just…curious.”

  “Hmm…curious.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide over the mug as she took a small sip.

  He leaned a little more comfortably against the counter, then crossed his boots at the ankles. “I really don’t know, Jolie. I suppose things would be…different if we had kids.”

  She nodded, as if expecting his answer.

  He grimaced and took another long swallow of beer, agitatedly rolling the bottle between his palms. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have left.”

  She looked at him, surprise lighting the blue depths of her eyes.

  He cursed under his breath. “Let me ask you a question, Jolie. How do you think being a mother would have changed you?”

  She slowly placed her mug down, saying nothing for long moments. “How do you mean?”

  “Would you have quit the force? Opted to be a stay-at-home mom? Cut back your hours?” Do as I asked you and leave firefighting behind altogether?

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly.

  He finished off the beer in record time, then tossed the bottle into the garbage can under the sink.
“Let’s face it. We can stand here all night rehashing what life would have been like if only this had happened. If only we’d done that. But the fact is that we can’t change things. Not now. What’s done is done and there’s no altering that.”

  He began to pass her on his way out to the living room and the television, where he hoped something would be capable of taking his mind off their current conversation.

  She grasped his arm, halting his progress. “What are you talking about, Dusty? Us? Are you saying that there’s no changing the course for us?” He gazed into her questioning eyes, feeling more drawn to her now that they’d made love than he had before. Maybe because he’d been reminded of how wonderful it felt to have her legs wrapped around his waist. To feel her mouth responding under his. To know that on some level they would always be a couple. “Or are you talking about Erick?”

  She couldn’t have shocked him more had she just landed a sucker punch to his solar plexus.

  “What?”

  She stared at where her hand still rested against his arm, then slowly pulled it away. “You know, we never really did talk much about Erick after…well, after he died.” She smiled, but there was a sad slant to it. “I guess we were too caught up in our own problems.”

  He stiffened. “No. It’s because there’s nothing there to talk about.”

  Her feathery brows pulled together in a frown. “Isn’t there?” She tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping to the floor. “You know, I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve lain awake, wondering about what happened to us. Trying to fit the pieces together.” She sucked in her lips, then released them. “But there was always this missing piece, you know? Some elusive reason behind your actions that I just couldn’t seem to put my finger on.” Her gaze swept back to his. “I never even thought it might be Erick.”