Huckleberry Hearts (13 page)

If he had anything to say about it, no one would ever make Cassie cry again.

Chapter Ten

There weren't a lot of good places to hide in a warehouse. No large posts to conceal oneself behind or secluded corners to sneak into. She couldn't go outside to be alone without freezing to death, and the little alcove that housed the bathrooms was constantly crowded with people. So she slipped over to the wall farthest from the crowds and ducked behind one of the quilt displays where she wouldn't be seen. Mostly.

Cassie really hated disappointing people. She really hated telling boys no and breaking their hearts. Growing up, her mamm had often scolded her for caring too much about what other people thought of her and putting other people's happiness ahead of her own. But Mamm had no reservations about using Cassie's weakness to her advantage when Cassie wasn't inclined to do what her mother wanted.

Telling Elmer Lee
again
that she wasn't interested had been difficult. Elmer Lee liked her too much to give up easily. It hadn't helped matters that Mamm and Norman encouraged him. They bore some of the responsibility for his disappointment.

She heard muted footsteps and turned to see Dr. Reynolds sidling behind the quilt display with a tissue in his outstretched hand and a deeply concerned look on his face. The doctor could have been a model or a movie star. Good looks like his were as rare as an original Picasso. He had rolled his sleeves to his elbows, and she could see the muscles and veins of his strong forearms.

Who would have ever guessed that pink could be that masculine?

Holding her breath, she willed her pulse to resume a normal pace.

She really needed to stop staring now.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Ignoring the sculptured biceps lurking beneath his sleeves, she took the tissue from him and dabbed at her eyes even though they were mostly dry.

“What did he say to make you so upset? I volunteer to teach him some manners if you like.”

She smiled and expelled a puff of air. “Elmer Lee is harmless. I wanted to give him a chance to move away gracefully without it seeming like I dumped him.”

His lips twitched as if he were holding back a full-blown smile. “You dumped him?”

“I guess I didn't really dump him, since we weren't going out in the first place. I told him that he should find a nice Amish girl because I'm not coming back.”

Now he did smile, a smile that could have turned back winter in Chicago. He took two giant steps closer, probably so she could smell that irresistible scent of his. “I'm glad to hear it.”

For a second, she forgot she had the power of speech.

He cleared his throat and took a step away as if he realized his presence made her giddy. “I'm surprised he wasn't the one who ended up crying.”

She sighed. “He'll be fine. My brother shouldn't plant false hope.”

“I have to admit, I felt a little nervous. I thought maybe Elmer Lee would talk you into marrying him.”

“I don't think so.”

“I was jealous too, but as long as you didn't give him your phone number, I guess we're even.”

Zach seemed to have an uncanny ability to make her smile. “Elmer Lee has been baptized. Giving him my phone number would have been pointless.”

He pretended to be insulted. “So you would have given it to him and not to me? I wore pink today just for you. Have you no heart?”

“Apparently not, at least according to Norman.”

His smile faded. She shouldn't have mentioned her brother. Norman made grown men cry on a regular basis. “Norman picks on you,” he said. “How can you find any patience for him?”

“If I don't argue, he eventually winds down.”

He furrowed his brow. “But your silence gives him permission to keep bullying you.”

“I'd rather not create more bad feelings by fighting back.”

“Norman doesn't have the same consideration for your feelings.”

“My feelings don't matter. I'd rather do just about anything than argue.”

Zach's eyebrows inched closer together. “If you don't want to upset anyone by defending yourself, why did you defend me?”

“I . . . well, Norman knows better than to treat a stranger so rudely. I'm sorry he attacked you.”

“I have a thick skin, and I'm far from helpless. Just ask Taylor Olsen. He took a swing at me, and I broke his arm.”

Cassie's eyes became big, wide circles.

He shook his head vigorously. “Not on purpose. I blocked his punch with my forearm so he wouldn't break my nose. Again. He got a red card and a really big cast.”

Cassie cracked a smile.

Zach chuckled. “I'm grateful you defended me. It would have been a little embarrassing to stand there and let Norman yell at me. I wasn't about to yell back. The thing I can't figure out is how you agree with everything Norman accused me of, but you still came to my defense.”

Cassie felt the warmth travel up her face. “I never said I agreed with him.”

His gaze pierced hers. “But you do. You think I only want one thing from you. It's why you wouldn't give me your phone number.”

“I think you're a very nice guy, Dr. Reynolds.”

He grimaced. “Nice guy? That's not it. You think I want to get you into bed and nothing more.” He glanced around their little space as if making sure no one had heard him. “I'm sorry for being so blunt. But I'm right, aren't I?”

She wished she could shrink to the size of a pebble. “In my experience, it's what all the college guys want.”

He frowned and scrubbed his hand down the side of his face. “You have a very low opinion of me, don't you?”

Hadn't she made it clear to him that she didn't like conflict? This was shaping up to be a monster-size conflict. Avoidance was her best option. She balled the tissue in her fist and took two steps toward the benches where the auction would be held. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His gentle hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. “Please, Miss Coblenz. I promise I won't argue or get angry. I just want to understand you. I want you to understand me.”

The weight of so many years of disillusionment pressed down on her. “You already admitted it. I know you well enough,” she whispered.

He looked behind him as they both heard the auctioneer calling out bids on one of the quilts. Holding out his hand, he said, “This is a nice secluded corner where we can sit and talk.”

She hesitated. Did she really want to take his hand? Of course she did. That was why she didn't.

“I just want to talk,” he persisted. “I don't want to make out with you or convince you to accept a date. Just talk.”

She walked to the far wall and sat in the corner on the floor. With only a ghost of a smile on his face, he followed and sat next to her, leaning back against the metal wall. “Cold,” he said.

“Not much insulation between us and the outside.”

“If I go get my coat, will you promise not to leave until I get back?”

She curled her lips and nodded.

He got to his feet and took off. He came back with his coat, which he quickly laid over her shoulders. “Oh,” she said. “I thought this was for you.”

“I like it when you wear my coat.” His look sent a spark of electricity down her arms. “Besides, the cold doesn't faze me. I used to study in the Reg at UChicago. It's like a freezer in there.”

“You forget that I grew up Amish. In the winter I don't think my one-room schoolhouse got warmer than fifty-five degrees.”

He looked genuinely worried. “You don't have to wear it if you don't want to.”

She tugged it more tightly around her shoulders. “I've been out of primary school a very long time.”

He sat next to her again, but she noticed that he was careful to keep his distance. No arms nudging up against each other.

He rested his arms on his knees. “So, you're dead set against me because you think I'm a pretty bad guy.”

“I never said that.”

“But you said you already know what I'm like.”

She wanted to disappear into the folds of his coat. “You're all alike.”

His eyes held something intense in their depths, but he twitched his mouth into a grin. “I ask you, is it fair to lump me with the likes of Finn McEwan? He doesn't even have good hair.”

Seeing his expression, she relaxed a little. Maybe he wouldn't growl at her like Norman would. “You're right. It isn't fair.”

“Right. I mean, you make this flash judgment about me and deprive me of the chance to take you out.”

She rolled her eyes. “So you never did any of those things the rest of your college buddies did?”

He pressed his lips together as if he were thinking real hard. “I'm not going to lie to you. I've done some things you'd find objectionable, but I'd never use a girl the way Finn did.” He massaged his jaw as if he were trying to scour the skin off his face. “But I have slept with a few girls. You already guessed that.”

“I wouldn't have expected anything different.”

Pain traveled across his face as if she had slapped him. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Don't apologize. Nothing hurts like the truth.”

She felt horrible, like she'd just run over a puppy in her car. This was why she didn't like confrontations. Nobody walked away satisfied. “We should go find Dawdi.”

He gazed at her, and she saw a yearning that took her by surprise. “No, we shouldn't, not when you're being so honest.”

“So brutal.”

He turned his whole body to face her. “I want to hear it.”

“Sure, you say that now, but wait until I rip your kidneys out of your chest and stomp on them.”

He lowered his head and smiled. “Technically, kidneys do not reside in the chest cavity.”

“It would still be painful.”

“Bring it on.”

He coaxed a smile from her in spite of herself. “I know how I sound, like a judgmental, spiteful prude.”

“Not at all.”

“I'm not like Norman. I won't tell you how to live your life or decide you're going to hell because you're not Amish, but I also have a right to choose my life. I choose to live the way I think God wants me to live.”

“Live and let live,” Zach said. “But maybe that means you could reserve judgment on a guy until he takes you out. Maybe give him a try.” He gave her an innocent grin, as if he had no particular guy in mind.

The words felt heavy on her tongue. She hated being such a disappointment. “It doesn't matter. It's always the same. Different guy, same story.”

“Tell me the story.”

She shivered and tucked his coat around her chin. “He's always really charming and fun at first. He takes you out to dinner, maybe a movie or a party where all the couples are making out. He gets annoyed when you won't make out with him, but he's not discouraged yet. Maybe he takes you to the lake. Maybe even pulls out the water skis. He spends all sorts of money on you. But when you refuse to sleep with him, he gets angry. He calls you names and accuses you of leading him on.” She turned her face from Dr. Reynolds, unable to meet his eye. He had wanted to hear it. “After a few dates, your charming smiles would vanish and every moment we spent in each other's presence would be awkward and painful. You'd despise me for my resistance, make fun of me when you're with your friends, maybe even call me a hypocrite, because, let's face it, nobody could be that
virginal
.”

She didn't realize a tear trickled down her cheek until he reached out and gently wiped it away.

She sniffed hard and shook her head. “This is stupid. I should be numb to the memories by now.”

He stared at her as if he might like to shed a few tears himself. “How many stories have you got like this?”

“Three or four guys my freshman year. Two or three as a sophomore. After that I turned down a lot of dates.”

The lines deepened around his eyes. “They shouldn't have treated you that way.”

“But it's how everybody behaves. At least in college.”

He tilted his head and dug his fingers into the muscles of his neck. “No wonder you hate me.”

“I don't hate you.” Her gut clenched. “I just don't want to go out with you.”

He studied her with a piercing gaze. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

“You don't have to make anything up to me.”

“Maybe I'm not what you want now, but what if I try to be the kind of guy you can trust? The kind of guy you would date. What would I have to do?”

“I . . . I don't know.”

“Maybe people can change. Maybe just being around you makes men want to be better.”

Her heart did somersaults in her chest. He didn't mean it. No guy would want to change for her.

He frowned. “Am I a lost cause?”

“No one is a lost cause, but only God can change your heart.”

A shadow darkened his features. “Maybe so.”

The look troubled her. What was his relationship with God? “You don't think God can change you?”

“God and I aren't on speaking terms.”

He seemed so dark, so profoundly unhappy about it. Dare she ask? “Why not?”

“He took my dad. One day he was fine and the next day he dropped dead from a heart attack.” He lowered his head. “I was seventeen. God knew how bad me and my mom needed him. Why would He do that to us? Mom couldn't hardly eat for weeks. Why did God put us through that pain if He loves us?”