“She’s moving in with Charlie,” Derek said in a worried voice. “You aren’t going to let her, are you, Reed?”
“You can’t,” Monte added.
“He won’t,” Pat stated confidently.
For a moment, the three of them stared intently at Reed. Ellen noticed the way his green eyes hardened. “Yes, I can,” he said at last. “If this is what you want, then so be it. Goodbye, Ellen.” With that, he marched into the house.
CHAPTER TEN
“I’M SWEARING OFF men for good,” Ellen vowed, taking another long swallow of wine.
“Me, too,” Darlene, her new roommate, echoed. To toast the promise, Darlene bent forward to touch the rim of her wineglass against Ellen’s and missed. A shocked moment passed before they broke into hysterical laughter.
“Here.” Ellen replenished their half-full glasses as tears of mirth rolled down her face. The world seemed to spin off its axis for a moment as she straightened. “You know what? I think we’re drunk.”
“Maybe you are,” Darlene declared, slurring her words, “but not me. I can hold my wine as well as any man.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about men anymore.”
“Right, I forgot.”
“Do you think they’re talking about us?” Ellen asked, putting a hand to her head in an effort to keep the walls from going around and around.
“Nah, we’re just a fading memory.”
“Right.” Ellen pointed her index finger toward the ceiling in emphatic agreement.
The doorbell chimed and both women stared accusingly at the door. “If it’s a man, don’t answer it,” Darlene said.
“Right again.” Ellen staggered across the beige carpet. The floor seemed to pitch under her feet and she placed a hand on the back of the sofa to steady herself. Facing the door, she turned around. “How do I know if it’s a man or not?”
The doorbell sounded again.
Darlene motioned languidly with her hand to show that she no longer cared who was at the door. “Just open it.”
Holding the knob in a death grip, Ellen pulled open the door and found herself glaring at solid male chest. “It’s a man,” she announced to Darlene.
“Who?”
Squinting, Ellen studied the blurred male figure until she recognized Monte. “Monte,” she cried, instantly sobering. “What are you doing here?”
“I... I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“Come in.” She stepped aside to let him enter. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” She hiccuped despite her frenzied effort to look and act sober. “It’s a school night. You shouldn’t be out this late.”
“It’s only ten-thirty. You’ve been drinking.”
“Me?” She slammed her hand against her chest. “Have we been drinking, Darlene?”
Her roommate grabbed the wine bottle—their second—from the table and hid it behind her back. “Not us.”
Monte cast them a look of disbelief. “How’d your exams go?” he asked Ellen politely.
“Fine,” she answered and hiccuped again. Embarrassed, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I think.”
“What about algebra?”
“I’m making it by the skin of my nose.”
“Teeth,” both Darlene and Monte corrected.
“Right.”
Looking uncomfortable, Monte said, “Maybe I should come back another time.”
“Okay.” Ellen wasn’t about to argue. If she was going to run into her former housemates, she’d prefer to do it when she looked and felt her best. Definitely not when she was feeling...tipsy and the walls kept spinning. But on second thought, she couldn’t resist asking about the others. “How’s...everyone?”
“Fine.” But he lowered his gaze to the carpet. “Not really, if you want the truth.”
A shaft of fear went through her, tempering the effects of several glasses of wine. “It’s not Reed, is it? Is he ill?”
“No, Reed’s fine. I guess. He hasn’t been around much lately.”
No doubt he was spending a lot of his time at parties and social events with Danielle. Or with any number of other women, all of them far more sophisticated than Ellen.
“Things haven’t been the same since you left,” Monte added sheepishly.
“Who’s doing the cooking?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been taking turns.”
“That sounds fair.” She hoped that in the months she’d lived with them the three boys had at least learned their way around the kitchen.
“Derek started a fire yesterday.”
Ellen couldn’t conceal her dismay. “Was there any damage?” As much as she tried to persuade herself that she didn’t need to feel guilty over leaving the boys, this news was her undoing. “Was anyone hurt?” she gasped out.
“Not really, and Reed said the insurance would take care of everything.”
“What happened?” Ellen was almost afraid to ask.
“Nothing much. Derek forgot to turn off the burner and the fat caught fire. Then he tried to beat it out with a dish towel, but that burst into flames, too. The real mistake was throwing the burning towel into the sink because when he did, it set the curtains on fire.”
“Oh, good grief.” Ellen dropped her head into her hands.
“It’s not too bad, though. Reed said he wanted new kitchen walls, anyway.”
“The walls too?”
“Well, the curtains started burning the wallpaper.”
Ellen wished she hadn’t asked. “Was anyone hurt?”
Monte moved a bandaged hand from behind his back. “Just me, but only a little.”
“Oh, Monte,” she cried, fighting back her guilt. “What did you do—try and pound out the fire with your fist?” Leave it to Monte. He’d probably tried to rescue whatever it was Derek had been cooking.
“No, I grabbed a hot biscuit from the oven and blistered one finger.”
“Then why did you wrap up your whole hand?” From the size of the bandage, it looked as though he’d been lucky not to lose his arm.
“I thought you might feel sorry for me and come back.”
“Oh, Monte.” She reached up to brush the hair from his temple.
“I didn’t realize what a good cook you were until you left. I kept thinking maybe it was something I’d done that caused you to leave.”
“Of course not.”
“Then you’ll come back and make dinners again?”
Good ol’ Monte never forgot about his stomach. “The four of you will do fine without me.”
“You mean you won’t come back?”
“I can’t.” She felt like crying, but she struggled to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t.”
Hanging his head, Monte nodded. “Well, have a merry Christmas anyway.”
“Right. You, too.”
“Bye, Ellen.” He turned back to the door, his large hand gripping the knob. “You know about Pat making varsity, don’t you?”
She’d read it in the Daily. “I’m really proud of him. You tell him for me. Okay?”
“Sure.”
She closed the door after him and leaned against it while the regrets washed over her like a torrent of rain. Holding back her tears was difficult, but somehow she managed. She’d shed enough tears. It was time to put her grief behind her and to start facing life again.
“I take it Monte is one of the guys,” Darlene remarked. She set the wine back on the table, but neither seemed interested in another glass.
Ellen nodded. “The one with the stomach.”
“He’s so skinny!”
“I know. There’s no justice in this worl
d.” But she wasn’t talking about Monte’s appetite in relation to his weight. She was talking about Reed. If she’d had any hope that he really did care for her, that had vanished in the past week. He hadn’t even tried to get in touch with her. She knew he wouldn’t have had any problem locating her. The obvious conclusion was that he didn’t want to see her. At first she thought he might have believed the boys’ ridiculous claim that she was moving in with Charlie. But if he’d loved her half as much as she loved him, even that shouldn’t have stopped him from coming after her.
Apparently, presuming that Reed cared for her was a mistake on her part. She hadn’t heard a word from him all week. Exam week, at that. Well, fine. She’d wipe him out of her memory—just as effectively as she’d forgotten every algebraic formula she’d ever learned. A giggle escaped and Darlene sent her a curious look. Ellen carried their wineglasses to the sink, ignoring her new roommate, as she considered her dilemma. The trouble was, she wanted to remember the algebra, which seemed to slip out of her mind as soon as it entered, and she wanted to forget Reed, who never left her thoughts for an instant.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” Darlene said, holding her hand to her stomach. “I’m not feeling so great.”
“Me neither.” But Ellen’s churning stomach had little to do with the wine. “Night.”
“See you in the morning.”
Ellen nodded. She was fortunate to have found Darlene. The other woman, who had recently broken up with her fiancé after a two-year engagement, understood how Ellen felt. It seemed natural to drown their sorrows together. But...she missed the boys and—Reed.
One thing she’d learned from this experience was that men and school didn’t mix. Darlene might not have been serious about swearing off men, but Ellen was. She was through with them for good—or at least until she obtained her degree. For now, she was determined to bury herself in her books, get her teaching credentials and then become the best first-grade teacher around.
Only she couldn’t close her eyes without remembering Reed’s touch or how he’d slip up behind her and hold her in his arms. Something as simple as a passing glance from him had been enough to thrill her. Well, that relationship was over. And just in the nick of time. She could have been hurt. Really hurt. She could be feeling terrible. Really terrible.
Just like she did right now.
* * *
SIGNS OF CHRISTMAS were everywhere. Huge decorations adorned the streetlights down University Way. Store windows displayed a variety of Christmas themes, and the streets were jammed with holiday traffic. Ellen tried to absorb some of the good cheer that surrounded her, with little success.
She’d gone to the university library to return some books and was headed back to Darlene’s place. Her place, too, even though it didn’t feel that way.
She planned to leave for Yakima the next morning. But instead of feeling the pull toward home and family, Ellen’s thoughts drifted to Reed and the boys. They’d been her surrogate family since September and she couldn’t erase them from her mind as easily as she’d hoped.
As she walked across campus, sharp gusts of wind tousled her hair. Her face felt numb with cold. All day she’d been debating what to do with the Christmas gifts she’d bought for the boys. Her first inclination had been to bring them over herself—when Reed wasn’t home, of course. But just the idea of returning to the lovely old house had proved so painful that Ellen abandoned it. Instead, Darlene had promised to deliver them the next day, after Ellen had left for Yakima.
Hugging her purse, Ellen trudged toward the bus stop. According to her watch, she had about ten minutes to wait. Now her feet felt as numb as her face. She frowned at her pumps, cursing the decrees of fashion and her insane willingness to wear elegant shoes at this time of year. It wasn’t as though a handsome prince was likely to come galloping by only to be overwhelmed by her attractive shoes. Even if one did swoop Ellen and her frozen toes onto his silver steed, she’d be highly suspicious of his character.
Smiling, she took a shortcut across the lawn in the Quad.
“Is something funny?”
A pair of men’s leather loafers had joined her fashionable gray pumps, matching her stride. Stunned, Ellen glanced up. Reed.
“Well?” he asked again in an achingly gentle voice. “Something seems to amuse you.”
“My...shoes. I was thinking about attracting a prince...a man.” Oh heavens, why had she said that? “I mean,” she mumbled on, trying to cover her embarrassment, “my feet are numb.”
“You need to get out of the cold.” His hands were thrust into his pockets and he was so compellingly handsome that Ellen forced her eyes away. She was afraid that if she stared at him long enough, she’d give him whatever he asked. She remembered the way his face had looked the last time she’d seen him, how cold and steely his eyes had been the day she’d announced she was moving out. One word from him and she would’ve stayed. But the “might-have-beens” didn’t matter anymore. He hadn’t asked her to stay, so she’d gone. Pure and simple. Or so it had seemed at the time.
Determination strengthened her trembling voice as she finally spoke. “The bus will be at the corner in seven minutes.”
Her statement was met with silence. Together they reached the pavement and strolled toward the sheltered bus area.
Much as she wished to appear cool and composed, Ellen’s gaze was riveted on the man at her side. She noticed how straight and dark Reed’s brows were and how his chin jutted out with stubborn pride. Every line of his beloved face emanated strength and unflinching resolve.
Abruptly, she looked away. Pride was no stranger to her, either. Her methods might have been wrong, she told herself, but she’d been right to let Reed know he’d hurt her. She wasn’t willing to be a victim of her love for him.
“Ellen,” he said softly, “I was hoping we could talk.”
She made a show of glancing at her watch. “Go ahead. You’ve got six and a half minutes.”
“Here?”
“As you so recently said, I need to get out of the cold.”
“I’ll take you to lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.” To further her embarrassment, her stomach growled and she pressed a firm hand over it, commanding it to be quiet.
“When was the last time you ate a decent meal?”
“Yesterday. No,” she corrected, “today.”
“Come on, we’re getting out of here.”
“No way.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Ellen. I’ve given you a week to come to your senses. I still haven’t figured out what went wrong. And I’m not waiting any longer for the answers. Got that?”
She ignored him, looking instead in the direction of the traffic. She could see the bus approaching, though it was still several blocks away. “I believe everything that needed to be said—” she motioned dramatically with her hand “—was already said.”
“And what’s this I hear about you succumbing to the demon rum?”
“I was only a little drunk,” she spat out, furious at Monte’s loose tongue. “Darlene and I were celebrating. We’ve sworn off men for life.” Or at least until Reed freely admitted he loved her and needed her. At the moment that didn’t appear likely.
“I see.” His eyes seemed to be looking all the way into her soul. “If that’s how you want it, fine. Just answer a couple of questions and I’ll leave you alone. Agreed?”
“All right.”
“First, what were you talking about when you flew off the handle about me driving the Porsche?”
“Oh, that.” Now it just seemed silly.
“Yes, that.”
“Well, you only drove the Porsche when you were seeing Danielle.”
“But I wasn’t! It’s been completely over between us since the night of the Christmas party.”
“It ha
s?” The words came out in a squeak.
Reed dragged his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t seen Danielle in weeks.”
Ellen stared at the sidewalk. “But the cleaners phoned about your suit. You were attending some fancy party.”
“So? I wasn’t taking another woman.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “You weren’t taking me, either.”
“Of course not!” he shouted, his raised voice attracting the attention of several passersby. “You were studying for your exams. I couldn’t very well ask you to attend an extremely boring business dinner with me. Not when you were spending every available minute hitting the books.” He lowered his voice to a calm, even pitch.
The least he could do was be more unreasonable, Ellen thought irritably. She simply wasn’t in the mood for logic.
“Did you hear what I said?”
She nodded.
“There is only one woman in my life. You. To be honest, Ellen, I can’t understand any of this. You may be many things, but I know you’re not the jealous type. I wanted to talk about Danielle with you. Any other woman would’ve loved hearing all the details. But not you.” His voice was slightly raised. “Then you make these ridiculous accusations about the truck and the Porsche, and I’m at a loss to understand.”
Now she felt even more foolish. “Then why were you driving the Porsche?” Her arms tightened around her purse. “Forget I asked that.”
“You really have a thing for that sports car, don’t you?”
“It’s not the car.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Squaring her shoulders, Ellen decided it was time to be forthright, time to face things squarely rather than skirt around them. “My feelings are that you would rather not be seen with me,” she said bluntly.
“What?” he exploded.
“You kept taking me to these out-of-the-way restaurants.”
“I did it for privacy.”
“You didn’t want to be seen with me,” she countered.
“I can’t believe this.” He took three steps away from her, then turned around sharply.
“Don’t you think the Des Moines Marina is a bit far to go for a meal?”
The Rain Sparrow Page 15
