Chapter Two

 

 

 

Ellie glanced up at the sky when they left the restaurant. The clouds were piling up nicely. Huge, exploding white towers that continued to grow as she watched them. The air was thick and the breeze had disappeared. Silence cloaked the town.

“Will it rain, do you think?”

“Oh yes. When the clouds stack up this early, it means we’ll have rain. Lots of it, I reckon.” She climbed back into the car. “If you’re heading back to Phoenix you should go soon. It’s no fun driving around here when it’s raining.” She didn’t want him to go. It had been a long time since she’d had a chance to talk to someone who wasn’t from Rio Seco. As far as she was concerned, the disembodied voices on the phone from Phoenix, Denver or DC didn’t count.

“I was hoping there was a motel down here.”

“It closed about three years ago.” She did a mental inventory of the pantry and fridge. She had a glut of eggplants and a spare bedroom that hadn’t seen a guest in five years. “You’re welcome to stay at my place. I’ve plenty of food and the air conditioning works.” Ellie hoped she didn’t sound too desperate. She watched him while he considered her invitation.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“Well, then, yes…thanks. I’d like that.”

“Good, that’s settled. Let’s finish the grand tour and then hit the one surviving supermarket.”

 

* * * *

 

By the time Ellie turned the car into the driveway, the clouds had darkened. The street was colored by a sullen amber light. The supermarket had been busy, with people buying candles and pre-cooked food in anticipation of another power outage. She’d managed to find a lump of Parmesan and her guest had bought two bottles of wine. They’d stopped at the depot so he could retrieve his bag from the back of his car. While he settled in, Ellie went into the back yard and found a couple of large eggplants. She glanced up at the sky and decided that there would be no need for watering. The air was heavy with the scent of greasewood and rain. Even the neighbor’s children were subdued. She heard them talking quietly.

Lupe put her head over the top of the wall. “Hey, neighbor, can I swap you some tomatoes for a few eggs?”

Ellie hadn’t thought about breakfast. The offer of eggs was well timed. “Yes, please. How many do you want?”

“Six? The kids want salsa.”

Ellie checked the nearest tomato plant. The stems were nearly bent double with the weight of the fruit. She picked half a dozen of the ripest ones and passed them over the wall to Lupe. A few minutes later, she received half a dozen eggs in a paper bag.

“I think it’s going to be a bad one tonight.” Lupe stared at the sky for a moment or two. “What do you reckon?”

“I think so too. Are you all right for candles?”

“Yeah, we got loads. I hope we don’t need them. It’s too damn hot to be without the AC.”

“I know.” The generator had enough juice to run the ceiling fans and that was about it. “Fingers crossed. Catch you later, Lupe.” Ellie returned to the house and to the kitchen. She could hear the whisper of the shower. She tried to remember the last time anyone had used the guest room shower. It seemed like forever. She went to her room, waited for him to finish and took a shower herself, washing the heat and grime of the day away.

When she returned to the kitchen, her guest had found the corkscrew. He handed her a glass of red wine. “Thanks for inviting me to stay.”

“You’re welcome.” She took a sip of wine and washed the eggplants. “Do you like eggplant Parmesan?”

He sat down at the table. “It sounds good to me.”

The distant, low growl of thunder filled the silence. Ellie turned on the light to ward off the gathering gloom. It was strange to have a man in the house again. Maria had been right about his looks. His dark hair was damp and curling from the shower and he smelled of aftershave—a masculine scent she’d long missed. Ellie wished she didn’t feel so tired and washed out. She turned on the radio in time to hear the severe thunderstorm warning for Pinal County. Another roll of thunder confirmed this.

“What does severe mean?” Duncan asked.

“Lots of rain, thunder, lightning, high winds.” She sliced the eggplants. “Put it this way. You’ll be glad you’re not driving in it.”

The radio crackled with distant lightning. Ellie sprinkled salt on the eggplants and sorted through the cupboard for a jar of pasta sauce.

“Is there anything I can do? I hate to sit here and watch you do all the work.”

“You can grate the cheese, if you like.” She passed him one of the graters and the Parmesan. “Just do the whole lot.” She sat down at the table and started grating stale bread for the crumbs. The wine burned like an ember in her stomach. She tried to remember the last time she’d had any. This was strong stuff, Australian Merlot. It tasted of blackberries and long-forgotten autumns back east. The pile of breadcrumbs grew as the sky outside the window darkened to greenish-black. The wind rattled the loose gutter pipe. The kitchen was a haven of uncertain light from the rising storm outside. Ellie was glad she had a gas range when the lights flickered and dimmed.

“I think we may lose our electricity,” she said.

 

The power went out just as Ellie removed the casserole dish from the oven.

“Shit.” The kitchen was illuminated by a brilliant, bluish flash of light. It was followed, in short order, by a crash of thunder.

Duncan watched her set the dish down on the table in the gloom.

“Do you have candles?”

“Plenty.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a box. In a few minutes, the kitchen was awash with flickering amber light. Ellie opened the door and the windows and the sound of the downpour provided a steady, comforting backdrop to the meal. Duncan thought of Bangkok during the monsoon but decided the candlelit kitchen and the eggplant Parmesan were better.

“Is it all right?”

He was touched by the uncertainty in her voice. Her eyes were bright in the candlelight.

“It’s lovely, thanks. Very nice.”

She smiled. “Thank God for that. I’ve been cooking for myself for so long, I always worry that I’ve lost my touch.”

“No, you haven’t. This is really very good.” To prove it, he wiped his plate clean with the last heel of bread. He’d suffered too many hotel meals on his travels, sitting in an unobtrusive corner with a book, the last refuge of the lonely diner.

Ellie took the empty plates away. “Would you like dessert? There’s some melon in the fridge.”

Duncan felt the button of his jeans nudge menacingly against his taut stomach. “No thanks. I don’t think I could eat any more at the moment.”

“Same here.” She rinsed the dishes in the sink and put them in the dishwasher. “We might as well go and be comfortable in the living room. I’ll put the generator on so, at least, we have the fans running.” She picked up a candle and Duncan followed her along the short, shadowy hall. The storm rumbled on outside and rain splattered like a constant, whispering song. The breeze ruffled the curtains while Ellie lit more candles.

Duncan sank onto the couch and wished he could undo the button on his jeans. Instead he had another sip of wine and waited for her to return from the garage. The generator started with a growl and slipped into a steady low rumble. The huge ceiling fan slowly whirred into life, spreading the damp, cool breeze around the room. The fridge started to hum once more.

Ellie sat on the other end of the couch, tucked her legs underneath her and reached for the wine. “It’s not the most exciting way to pass the time,” she said.

“It’s better than sitting in a hotel room watching crap TV,” Duncan replied. “I’ve had weeks of that. This is much better. There’s something very wrong about drinking in a hotel room all by yourself.”

Her giggle was a surprise. “Yes, that doesn’t sound too great. Especially if it’s one of those nasty old places with the flashing neon signs, where one or two of the letters don’t light up.”

“Happily, my expense account extends beyond that. But, even Sheratons get to be a drag after a while.”

“Are you getting homesick?”

He considered his answer. He’d been away for four weeks. The novelty and excitement of his assignment had worn off after three weeks. Duncan thought of his flat. The windows open to catch the soft evening light and the breeze, while traffic hummed in the street below. The plane trees would be green and, perhaps, there would be rain. Not this thunderous excess of storm, just a gentle evening rain, whispering against the glass. “Yes. I am.” He wanted to be home. He didn’t want to go on to California. He didn’t want to see what a wreck that place had become because Rio Seco seemed about as bad as it could get. Duncan looked at his hostess once more. She was curled up in her corner of the couch, vulnerable. Those threats she’d meticulously recorded worried him. If anything happened to her, no one would care. No one would do anything.

“I don’t blame you.” She gazed into her half-empty glass. “It’s a long time to be away from home. This isn’t exactly the best place to be.”

“No,” he admitted. “It isn’t.” He reached for the bottle and topped up her wine and his. “Is there nothing you can do to get out of here?”

She shook her head. Her hair caught flecks of gold from the candlelight. “They pay me just enough to keep me here. I’ve tried to save up for a plane ticket, but I just can’t seem to manage it. Flights are so expensive now.”

“Is there no one who can send you money?”

“My parents are just getting by with their pensions. My brother is up to his butt in debt.” She sighed into her glass. “It’s all right, I’ll get by. One of these days, I’ll make it out of here.”

Duncan wasn’t convinced by her tone. He fought an unfamiliar urge to take her in his arms and hold her. There was something in her that made him want to do that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted just to hold someone.

Ellie set her glass down and rubbed her eyes. “It’s all right. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Sorry. I guess I just can’t help it.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve managed all this time, I can manage some more.”

Bloody hell.

Duncan couldn’t help himself. He edged toward her, longing just to feel the comfort of someone. He put his arm around her shoulders and was relieved when she didn’t pull away.

“How the hell did you know?” she whispered and leaned against him. Her arm fell across his waist. Her head tucked neatly beneath his chin. “How did you know this is what I needed?”

“I’m a journalist.” He spoke into the lemon-scented tumble of her hair. “I’m supposed to be perceptive.” There was nothing to her. She was a frail bundle of bones held together by sinew and will. Duncan couldn’t believe a day in her company had brought him to this. He rubbed her shoulder absently while she relaxed. He was surprised at himself and how right it was.

 

Weak relief flooded through Ellie when Duncan put his arm around her shoulders. She wasn’t given to seeking comfort from strangers, but it had been a long time since anyone had offered her that kind of solace. She rested her head on his chest. The astringent scent of his aftershave was like a balm. His heartbeat was a steady rumble beneath her cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s okay.” His voice was gentle. His sigh ruffled her hair. Outside the rain continued and the thunder returned with a startling display of lightning through the open windows. One flickering flash followed another, broken by persistent roars of thunder. The rain quickened and the breeze was cool.

Ellie closed her eyes, lulled by Duncan’s closeness and by the steady drift of his hand across her hair. His arm tightened around her and his hand slid to her shoulder, where he traced absent circles. In spite of the fury of the storm, she fell asleep.

 

Duncan didn’t want to move. Ellie had fallen asleep, her breath soft and even on his skin. He sat in silence and watched the storm, still caressing her shoulder. He hid his face in her hair and closed his eyes. He tried to remember the last time he had held a woman and failed. It didn’t matter. This did. Duncan was overwhelmed by the need to protect her and wished that he didn’t have to be in California the following night. He wanted to stay and get to know her. He didn’t want to leave her to the threats and the relentless heat. He hated that she was alone and he found himself wishing he could take her with him, just to keep her safe for a little while.

Ellie shifted, her hand curled on his chest. Duncan sighed. He had intended to fly back to London from Los Angeles. Instead, he decided he would return to Arizona and fly home from Phoenix. He had the money—he would buy her a one-way ticket back east himself. His mind made up, Duncan closed his eyes and rested his cheek in her hair. He was asleep even before the thunder rolled once more.

 

* * * *

 

When he woke, the storm had moved away, leaving a gentle, steady rain. Ellie still slept and he hated to wake her. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was close to midnight and he had an eight-hour drive in the morning. His neck hurt and his arm had gone numb. He slid his arm away and stood. The breeze had a damp chill to it. Duncan picked her up, surprised at how light she was. She slumped in his arms and mumbled something in her sleep. He made his way to her room and laid her on the bed. She rolled onto her side and wrapped her arm around her pillow. Duncan looked at her for a moment. He smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead before turning and leaving the room, closing the door, gently, behind him.

 

* * * *

 

Oh God, how embarrassing. Ellie stared up at the bedroom ceiling as morning light, gray and soft, slipped through the curtains. I can’t believe I fell asleep on him. She headed for the shower and kicked herself for wasting an evening with the first decent company she’d enjoyed for a long time. She found a clean shirt and pair of jeans and padded into the kitchen, hoping to get the coffee on before he woke. She noticed that the generator had been turned off and a flashing light on the range told her that the power had returned. The morning air was still cool. She peered out of the window and saw mist clinging to the Pinal Mountains. Ellie reset the clock and retrieved the eggs from the fridge. The aroma of coffee stole through the kitchen. She poured herself a cup when she heard the shower in the guest room. At least he hadn’t crept out in the middle of the night. When Duncan walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, she managed an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry about last night. I really didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She said it in a hurry, afraid to lose the momentum.

“It’s all right. It was a long day. You did a lot of driving. To be honest, I fell asleep about ten minutes after you did.”

“That’s a relief.” She picked up an egg. “Scrambled or fried?”

“Scrambled would be nice.” He took a mug and helped himself to coffee.

Ellie broke the eggs into a bowl and whisked them with some milk.

“Thank God, it’s cooler today,” he said.

“Yes. That sometimes happens, if we have a really big storm. It keeps things cool for a little while. It’ll be back to hell on earth tomorrow.” She sighed and poured the eggs into the hot skillet. Bacon sizzled in the microwave and toast sprang up from the toaster. Duncan took the toast and buttered it, without her having to ask him. She liked that. He moved around her kitchen as if he had been there all his life, easy with the setting. He hummed along to the radio and brought life to the place. Ellie tilted the eggs onto the toast and set the plates on the table with the bacon. They ate in companionable silence while the newsreader spoke about the damage caused by the night’s storms.

Ellie put the plates in the sink and wished Duncan wasn’t going. She collected her purse while he set his bag by the front door. The house already seemed emptier. She couldn’t think of anything useful or interesting to say while she drove to the depot. She parked the car next to his and watched him put his things in the back seat.

“So where are you off to now?”

“California. I’ve got to be in LA by tonight, then up to Sacramento and San Francisco.” He looked at her. “I was going to fly back home from San Francisco but I’ve changed my mind.”

“You have?”

“I thought I might come back here, if you don’t mind. I can fly back from Phoenix.”

“Here?”

He leaned against his car. “I’ve been on the road for three weeks. All I’ve done is interview people, take photographs, look at the wreckage left behind after ten years of Depression. I need a couple of days just doing normal things.”

“Coming back here is normal?”

“Yesterday was the first day, on this whole trip, that I enjoyed myself. I know it was nothing to do with the tour and everything to do with the tour guide.”

Ellie thought she was too old to blush. The sudden flush of heat on her cheeks told her otherwise. She fumbled for something to say. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’d like to see you again. Would that be all right?”

She felt like a teenager again. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good.” Duncan smiled. He took out his car keys. “Now that’s settled, I’d better go. I’ll be back next Wednesday.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” She smiled back.

“Look after yourself, Ellie. Be careful.”

“I will.” She was surprised when he took her hand.

“Bye.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

“Bye.” She stared at him numbly and wondered whether she should kiss him back.

Duncan answered for her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, a sweet, fleeting kiss. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“Yes.” Her hand strayed to her lips when he climbed into the car. He rolled down the window and waved as he drove away. Ellie watched him leave and wished that he wasn’t.