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Authors: Susan Crandall

Seeing Red (6 page)

BOOK: Seeing Red
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Mr. J rolled onto his hip, and Ellis helped him to his feet.

“I really am sorry,” she said.

“No need.” The old man picked up his hat and dusted off his backside with it. “I just come out of the barn and seen you over here. I’d’a been a mite more careful, if I’d recognized it was you . . . what with your past an’ all.”

She looked him over. He appeared steady on his feet. Still . . . “Is Paco still around?” Paco had been the placid quarter horse she’d ridden while Laura risked life and limb on General Lee. God, how she’d loved that quiet, steady horse.

“Yes, ma’am. But we don’t let no one ride him anymore. He’s earned his retirement.”

Unlike Mr. J, apparently.

“Can I walk back with you and see him?” She couldn’t let the old guy totter around on his own until she was certain he was all right.

The smile that lit up his face made Ellis ashamed of her ulterior motive.

“I think Paco’d like that.” He shoved the hat on his head and extended the crook of his arm to her, elegant as a Southern gentleman.

Ellis smiled and rested her hand on his forearm, ready to tighten her grip if his step faltered.

Although they entered the barn from the shade, it still took a moment for Ellis’s eyes to adjust to the interior light. At least that’s what she told herself when she stopped cold in the doorway. Sixteen years, and now here she was.

Mr. J marched on ahead and stopped in front of a stall. “Here’s my boy.”

Ellis forced herself to move forward.

If Mr. J had found a way to halt the progression of time, he hadn’t shared it with Paco. It broke Ellis’s heart to see the sunken areas of his face, his prominent poll, and his graying muzzle.

As Paco’s velvet lips grazed her palm, Ellis felt the whisper of what had been a blinding passion for most of her youth. She closed her eyes, breathed in the smell of sweet hay, saddle leather, and the earthy scent of warm horseflesh.

Paco nudged her cheek with his nose.

“There now. Paco ’members you, don’t you, boy?” Mr. J stroked the horse’s neck.

Ellis stepped away, her pride at Paco’s recognition mixed with a healthy dose of shame. Had Paco felt she’d abandoned him in the same way she had when Nate had left?

They left the barn and emerged into the bright light. Without taking a moment to consider her words, she asked, “Do you remember Nate Vance?”

Mr. J faltered slightly. Ellis moved to steady him by the elbow, but he looked straight ahead and kept moving. “’Course I do.” He sounded peeved.

“I was just wondering what happened to him . . . where he ended up?”

“How would I know? That was a long time ago—and folks ’round here didn’t seem partic’arly sad to see him leave.” He stopped and tipped the brim of his hat. “If you’ll ’scuse me, miss. I’d best get back to work.”

With that abrupt change of disposition, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the dappled shade. For a moment, she watched his retreating back, the rigid set of his bony shoulders and the quick movement of his bandy legs.

She finally turned and walked down the tree-lined lane that led to the road. With every step, it seemed the sand beneath her feet sighed of a bittersweet past.

As Hollis listened to Heidi, his new boss and the owner of the kennel, he had trouble keeping his mind on what she was saying. He just kept thinking how little her name suited her. Heidies should be little blondes with mocking blue eyes and luscious bodies that they used to their advantage—women who thought they were special. But this Heidi was built like a transvestite, with short magenta-colored hair that stood up in spikes and feet that looked three sizes bigger than his.

“That sums up the work,” she said as they returned from the back rooms to the front desk. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You came highly recommended by the service-dog program at Ridgeland.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m glad for the job. I love working with dogs.” Hollis offered the look of shy gratitude he’d practiced in the mirror.

Heidi smiled in a way that said he’d hit his mark.

“Like I told you on the phone,” she said, “I don’t care about your past. I got a brother who served time. Everybody deserves a chance at a clean start.”

Just then, the front door opened and a young woman who deserved a name like Heidi—or Gretchen or Adriana—came in holding a silky white Maltese in her arms. Hollis preferred big dogs to those bred solely for ornamental purposes, but in this case he’d make an exception.

He stepped forward with outstretched arms and a choirboy smile on his face. “What a beautiful dog,” he said. “Please tell me we’re going to get to keep her for a while.”

He was careful to keep his attention on the dog, not the woman. But he didn’t fail to notice the way she straightened her posture, enhancing the tight fit of her low-cut shirt as she handed the pooch over.


Him,
” she corrected. “Beau is here for grooming.” Her voice oozed seductive confidence.

“This here’s Hollis,” Heidi said. “He’ll take Beau on back and get started. You want the usual?”

Hollis didn’t hear the woman’s answer. He was humming happily as he took the dog through the swinging door. He’d not considered the prospect before, but most of the folks dropping off dogs here would be women. If even half of Heidi’s clientele were like Beau’s momma, this job was going to be a great
resource
. . . as easy as shopping from a catalog.

It was a long, silent walk back home. Ellis’s emotional strength had been sapped by her long-avoided return to Belle Creek Stables even more than her physical strength had been from the ruthless pace of her run.

The narrow deserted road to the plantation and stables dead-ended at the marsh. Isolation settled heavily on her shoulders. Ghosts of the past dogged each footstep, their ethereal presence circling like a taunting crowd. The tension of their attendance strung her aching muscles as tight as bowstrings. She walked slowly, jumping like a fool at every squirrel that dashed for cover and every bird she startled into flight.

And all of those thoughts she’d been running from caught up with a vengeance.

She had to ask herself, Had she truly run this way by happenstance? Or had her inner voice guided her feet when she’d been ignoring it in her head?

Everything about that place—the smells, the sounds of the horses’ gentle nickers and their hooves against soft earth and wood chips, the very feel of the air on her skin—made her acutely aware of all she had lost.

Nate Vance had been as much a part of the stable as Paco and General Lee. More than that, he’d been her and Laura’s friend.

But late that spring, Nate had become more than a friend to Laura. At first, Ellis had had to stamp out a little spark of jealousy. She’d known that she was too young for Nate to think of her that way. And no one could blame any guy for going after Laura; she was perfect. But still Ellis had harbored a little ember of hope that someday . . .

In the aftermath of Laura’s ordeal, Ellis remembered wishing that Laura and Nate had never started hanging out. That way she wouldn’t have lost them both in a single year.

Finally, she rounded the corner onto her street and saw Rory’s Mini Cooper parked in her drive. Damn. She was looking forward to a shower and a long nap. After a day like today, there would be no sleep once darkness fell.

She took a deep breath and walked on.

Rory sat in the shade, on the steps that went up the side of her building to the entrance of her third-floor condo. He stood when she approached. She studied him as she would a stranger, trying to view him with fresh eyes.

He was tan and athletic, his smile wide, his light brown hair boyishly tousled. A desirable man by anyone’s standards. And kind. And intelligent.

Her stomach sank, landing in her lower regions with the grace of a deflated balloon. If a man this good and this attractive couldn’t start a fire inside her belly, maybe she didn’t have the fuel.

He stood, sticking his hands casually into the pockets of his cargo shorts; but the set of his face was far from relaxed.

“I was getting worried,” he said, just a little sharply. “You didn’t answer your cell.”

Ellis patted her pockets. “Oh! I must have forgotten it.” It startled her to realize how dangerously distracted she’d been when she’d left.

“With all that’s going on? Ellis!”

“So Dad’s called you.”

“He’s worried.” Rory stepped closer. The hands came out of the pockets and settled on her shoulders. “
I’m
worried.”

“You’re sweet and I appreciate the concern, but I’m perfectly fine.”

“We think you should go up north with me.”

She tilted her head and raised a brow. “We?” She thought she’d made it clear to her dad she wasn’t going.

“It makes sense, Ellis. Come with me. We can stay in separate rooms if you want. If you aren’t going, I’m not either.”

She felt as if she’d just heard a discordant squeal of violin strings.

He’s trying to be thoughtful.

“You know as well as anyone, I can take care of myself,” she said more harshly than she should have. But seriously, she held a brown belt; Rory was a science teacher who couldn’t bring himself to have his students dissect frogs. The thought of him offering protection seemed absurd.

For some odd reason—probably because of her unexpected visit to the stables—Nate Vance shot into her mind again. Even at her most vulnerable, she’d felt safe with him, but in an exhilarating passenger-on-a-high-speedwave-runner kind of way.

And you were fourteen years old. Grow up.

She said, “You have to go. Your grandmother lives for your visits.”

“She’ll understand. I’m not leaving you, not now.” His voice carried a force she rarely heard. He cradled her face and leaned down, kissing her.

It had been weeks since they’d been close. She felt the tremor in his touch, heard the longing desperation in his breathing. Leaning into his kiss, she searched for some hint of that kind of passion within herself, of the spark that said she could not live without this man’s kiss.

It was nice. Pleasant. But her ears didn’t ring and her heart didn’t race.

You’re expecting too much.

Finally, she pulled away and patted his chest. “I’ll be fine. You know I don’t take chances.”

Rory narrowed his eyes. “You went off without your cell phone.”

“And I always learn from my mistakes. It won’t happen again.” She smiled confidently.

He stood there looking doubtful.

“Come on, you know me better than that.” She took a step backward. “Now promise me you won’t change your plans.” She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to interrupt her. “At least not yet. It’s been a shock. We’ll all get used to the idea that Alexander’s out of prison.” She stepped around him. “Now, I really need a shower.”

“I’ll call and check on you later,” he called after her.

“All right.”

When she got inside and looked down to the driveway from her front sliding glass door, she saw Rory leaning on the fender of his car talking on his cell phone—no doubt reporting to her father.

What more did she want? He fit in with her family. He loved her enough that he was willing to disappoint his beloved grandmother to stay with her. He’d kissed her with desire even though she smelled like a locker room, for heaven’s sake. Why had her love not grown?

Because you’re not capable of more.

She stripped off her damp clothes, dropping them on her bedroom floor as she headed to the shower. As she turned on the hot water, she hoped Rory would go to Martha’s Vineyard as planned. Maybe in his absence she’d be able to get herself figured out so she could stop hurting him.

Rory snapped his phone closed, a tick developing in his overstressed jaw muscle. Ellis’s dad hadn’t been the well of support Rory had hoped for. Although Bill had agreed in principle that Ellis should go north with Rory, he had hedged when Rory had asked him to call and talk some sense into her.

He got in his car and left Ellis’s driveway. How had things gotten so far off track between them? He’d thought Ellis wanted the same things he did. They got along great. They’d been dating for over three years. Still, when he’d proposed, she’d acted like the thought had never even crossed her mind. Worse, she seemed repulsed by the idea.

A trip together would be his opportunity to get things straightened out and pointed back in the right direction.

Somebody had to make Ellis see. Somebody had to make her understand. If Bill wasn’t going to help, Rory had to figure out a way to change her mind.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

 

T
he rain shower that had arrived just after dark had stopped. Ellis lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. She’d known sleep would elude her tonight. But she hadn’t known that Nate Vance would be the reason.

She supposed it was natural to drift to the past with Alexander free, and after returning to the stables for the first time in years. She’d avoided the place fearing it would conjure only bad feelings. But the opposite had happened. The moments that played in her mind were the few good ones in a dark time. And they all centered around Nate. He’d handed her the reins of control when her life had felt like a roller coaster gone wild.

BOOK: Seeing Red
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