by Vella Day
“Let’s go.” Vic picked up her case and walked her to her car. He put her luggage in the trunk then opened her door. “Stay safe.”
“I will.” Ellie slipped in the front seat before she changed her mind.
Tears welling, she backed out of his drive. As she straightened the car, she glanced over at him. Seeing his slumped shoulders and brave face had the tears sliding down her cheeks. This was for the best. It was. It truly was. Then why did she feel like throwing up?
* * *
Ellie had to go to Kalispell to return her rental car. She’d spend the night with her daughter and then fly out the next day.
“How’s Dad?” Charlotte asked as she escorted Ellie inside her house.
“Good. He’ll get the stitches out of his calf in a few days. The doctors already gave him a clean bill of health and said he could get back to work.”
“Did he ask you to stay?” Charlotte headed into the kitchen.
Ellie set down her bag and followed her in. All during the drive up here, she practiced what she’d say. Disappointing her daughter would add another layer of guilt about her decision. “Yes and no. Charlotte, sweetie, your dad and I have a lot of feelings for each other, but our lifestyles don’t mesh.”
Her daughter kept her back to her while she fixed coffee. “Don’t you love him?”
“It’s complicated.”
Charlotte swiveled around. “Relationships are complicated, but either you love him or you don’t.”
Ellie didn’t want to admit the truth to her daughter, but knowing Charlotte, she’d worm it out of her sooner or later. “Yes. I’ve never stopped loving him, but your dad fears someone else might come after me. He wants me safe.”
“Well, I’m not going to stop visiting him just because some crazy loon could shoot at me again.”
Was her daughter calling her a coward? That hurt. “I’m glad, but it would be different if you lived in Rock Hard.”
“If I did move there, would you move there, too?”
Why was Charlotte asking her these hard questions? Ellie knew. She wanted a family—desperately. Ellie stepped closer and clasped her shoulders. “Even if I did return—and Vic let me stay—things would go back to the way they were in Virginia. Your dad admitted he’s a workaholic. He could be gone for weeks at a time. You of all people should remember how he blocked us out of his life. It hurt me and it hurt you.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe, but that was when he worked for the government.”
They’d rehashed Vic’s actions to death already. “So tell me about Trent Lawson. Are you still high on him?”
Her cheeks colored. “It doesn’t matter. I made a complete fool of myself on the way to his cousin’s house. There’s no hope now.”
Too many scenarios rushed into her head. “Care to elaborate?”
“No, Mom. Some things are best left unsaid.”
If Trent forced himself on her daughter, Ellie would bring up charges. “Did he do something you didn’t want him to?”
“No! He was the perfect gentleman.” The coffee perked and she poured two cups. “Let’s sit at the table, but only if you agree not to discuss my lack of love life.”
That was so Charlotte. “Deal, but only if you drop the subject of me and your dad getting back together. It’s not going to happen.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, and Ellie laughed. She’d miss her daughter so much.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As soon as Ellie walked into the Davies-Hart Gallery, Wendy came out of the back room, her nose red and a tissue in her hand. “Oh, my God. You’re back!”
Her eyes sparkled, but her friend looked like shit. “I’d give you a hug, but I don’t want to catch what you have,” Ellie said. “You need to go home.”
“I’m better than I was yesterday.”
Now she sounded like Vic. No one was in the gallery since it was quite early. It was also snowing, but it was possible Wendy had scared them away.
Ronnie sauntered out from the back. “I thought I heard your voice. How are you, darling?” He kissed her on each cheek.
Wendy touched Ellie’s arm. “I’ll quarantine myself in the office. Happy to have you back.”
“I’m glad to be home.” She faced Ronnie. “How’s Art World doing?” That was where Ronnie worked part time.
“Ugh. They are so gauche. Donald Everly is not a good administrator and he’s a worse curator.”
She laughed. “Be kind.”
Ronnie placed a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, but I am. You and Hilton have exquisite pieces.”
“Thank you. Since I’ll need some time to get back in the groove, I hope you’ll stay around and help out.”
During the trip back east, she realized that she’d worked too hard these past five years. Sure, she was successful and made good money, but the slower pace of Montana had gotten under her skin. She was almost forty-six. While not old, pushing herself like she had when she was twenty wouldn’t help her live a long and productive life. Having another person to pick up the slack when she was researching other artists or teaching her class would be wonderful. If she could steal Wendy away from her job, too, life would be so sweet.
“That’s very generous, but I’m looking to start my own gallery. When Hilton first asked me, I wasn’t ready, but now I think I am.”
She couldn’t be more pleased for him. “I wish you luck. If we can help in any way, let us know.”
“I will. Would you like me to stay for the day while you get back in the swing of things?”
“That would be great.” The bell above the door chimed and a well-dressed woman came in. “I’ll let you see what she wants.”
Ellie wasn’t up for dealing with someone new right now. She hurried into the back room, wanting to touch base with Wendy.
With a hot cup of coffee in her hands, her friend looked up. “I thought you might like to look at the artwork from your class.”
“I’d love to.” It was always hard judging a person’s progress when she didn’t see its evolution.
For the next hour, they poured over the paintings, discussing which artist had talent and which ones needed an extra push. It was wonderful to immerse herself in the art world again.
One of the pictures was a mountain scene, reminiscent of Montana. What was unusual about this one was the inclusion of a family of wolves. That reminded her of the wonderful artist in Rock Hard. After extracting his card from her purse, she handed it to Wendy. “Here’s someone you might try to land. His work is remarkable.” Bringing in artists could help a person’s career.
Wendy studied his card. “It says here, he’s from Montana.”
“Yup. I saw his work in a small gallery there. I’m thinking he could really be special.”
“I’ll check him out. He must have a website. Did you meet him?”
“No. I was thinking too much about my stalker, and besides, the owner told me he was out of town.”
Wendy stashed the card in her purse. “I meant to ask, did the stalker ever say why he targeted you?”
“Not exactly, but he worked in Virginia.” She’d already told her that his father was the man Vic helped put in jail. “We’re thinking Darryl might have looked up Vic’s name and found mine instead. We speculated he was trying to get the whole family in one spot so he could inflict more pain on Vic. By scaring me, we think he’d hoped I’d call Vic.”
Wendy shook her head. “That’s terrible.”
“Tell me about it.”
The bell above the door rang once more. “I guess I should see who that might be.” Ellie nodded to the box of tissues next to Wendy. “Go home. Please. It’s bad for business.”
Wendy laughed, just as Ellie had wished.
“Okay, but as soon as I feel better, we’re going out to dinner to celebrate your return.”
That was the best offered she’d had all day. “You bet.”
* * *
Wendy held up her wine glass and Ellie clinked hers against it. �
�To health, wealth, and happiness,” Wendy said.
“Most definitely.” Ellie had her health, and with the sale of a rare Feinberg painting two days ago, she was doing very nicely in the wealth department. It was the happiness part she couldn’t quite grasp.
Wendy leaned against the leather booth at Magda’s, a fine steak house in town. Ellie only came here when she needed to feel special. Unfortunately, Magna’s magic wasn’t working tonight.
“You don’t look very happy,” Wendy said.
Ellie shrugged. “It’s been hard getting back into the stressful world of running a business. You being at the gallery two days a week has really helped me.”
Wendy polished off her glass. “How long have we known each other?”
Her friend was too damned sharp. “Fine; I miss Vic.”
“About time you admitted it.”
She’d been back less than a week. Ellie had gone over her time in Montana about a hundred times. “It doesn’t do any good. He won’t move back here, and I don’t want to leave the gallery.”
“You do realize galleries can’t hold you at night or kiss you madly.”
She laughed. “For a thirty-five year old, you are rather wise.”
“Thirty-four. I don’t turn thirty-five for another week.”
Ellie had forgotten about her birthday. Where was her head? “Thirty-four then. My point is that Vic fears for my safety. What if another person comes after him through me?”
“Really?”
“What?”
“You believed that line? He just said that because he’s scared. It’s the same for you. He was just nice enough to give you an out, but safety isn’t the real issue.”
The thought had crossed her mind, but she’d dismissed it. “It’s possible. He claims he loves me, but if he had to choose between me and his job, his work would always win.”
Wendy’s jaw slackened. “Seriously? From what you told me, when you were together this time, did he ever put his work above you?”
“I was his work.”
“Are you sure he had no other jobs pending?”
“No. Fine. Perhaps Vic has changed. He’s working for himself and can choose to do what he wants, but even he said it wouldn’t last. Don’t forget he crashed his car right after I arrived and then needed me to drive him around. He couldn’t follow many other leads.”
She chuckled. “You seemed to have been able to rent a car. Why couldn’t he have?”
“His shoulder was hurt.”
The waiter arrived with their steaks, and Ellie inhaled the delicious aroma. As soon as their server left, Wendy said, “Bullshit.”
“You didn’t see him. His shoulder was dislocated.”
“You can’t fool me, Eleanor Hart. I remember when I first met you and Vic. He was doing some undercover work, trying to unearth a drug cartel. Don’t you remember when you found out he was in the hospital, that some thugs had jumped him, broken his nose, and cut his arm real bad?”
Ellie had pushed that out of her mind. “You have a good memory. That was such a terrible ordeal. Charlotte had freaked, believing her daddy was going to die. I couldn’t get her to stop crying.”
“Right? He was seriously wounded and was back at work in two days. Two days! Vic Hart can do anything he sets his mind to—like drive a car with an injured shoulder.”
Ellie cut into her rare steak, watching the juices pool onto the plate. “So?”
“He wanted you nearby. That’s why he had you drive, not because he was hurt. You even said it yourself—he’s changed.”
She set down her fork. “What’s your point?”
“You are such a lucky woman. A man loves you. Go to him.”
Ellie exhaled. “And chance that he’ll become obsessed with work again?”
“Like you were obsessed with making this gallery the perfect place when you were dating Brian? How did you think he felt?”
“You’re saying I’m like Vic?”
“In many ways. If you want a relationship to work, you have to want it bad enough, to make it a success.”
Wendy wasn’t exactly the poster child for working relationships, but what she said held merit. Sure, Ellie was ambitious, and she had thought of Brian as someone casual. “Vic and I had a child to raise, and he wasn’t there for us. Can you honestly say that wasn’t enough of a reason to work at keeping us together?”
“Vic was trying to keep his family safe by serving overseas. You can’t fault him for that.”
Maybe she had been hasty. “True, but when he returned, he wasn’t the man I’d married. He didn’t laugh as much.” Or hold me as much or want to make love with me all the time.
“Those were sad times.”
“I know. I could have been a better listener and a better wife. He was hurting, but I didn’t know what to do.”
Wendy reached out and clasped her hand. “You were a mom who had to put Charlotte first.”
“That was what I told myself, but I think it was an excuse.”
Wendy smiled. “You can do something about it now.”
“No. He’s happy in Montana and I’m good here.”
“Fine, but don’t say it’s because being with Vic isn’t safe. You were in Virginia and had a stalker and got your tires slashed. How is that being safe?”
Ellie picked up her wine. “Can we talk about something else?”
“I’m sorry, hon. You’re right. We’re here to celebrate your return. I’m really not trying to convince you to go. I’d miss you too much if you did.”
“That’s better. So, any word from Cal?”
Wendy laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve set your sights on him?”
Ellie nearly spit out her wine. “Hell no. Just making conversation.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
A knock sounded on Vic’s door. He looked up and Sharon was there, hand on her hip. “Are you ignoring me?”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “No. Why would I?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve buzzed you twice about a phone call, and even texted you the information, yet you haven’t responded. Are you okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
She crossed her arms. “May I be frank?”
He chuckled. “When have you ever thought to ask?” He kept his voice light. Sharon was the best, and he never wanted to piss her off. Hell, if she decided to do him in, he would be dead in seconds.
“Since you haven’t been yourself.”
Vic had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this conversation. “Shoot. Or rather should I say, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Have you called Ellie?”
Shit. He didn’t need this. “I texted her the day she left to be sure she arrived home safely.”
Sharon stepped into his office and sat down in the chair across from the desk, something she rarely did. “And not since then?”
Ellie had been gone over two weeks. Contacting her would have been too painful for both of them. “No.”
“Let me get this straight. After nineteen years of marriage and five years of being separated, your former wife comes in here looking for your help. You drop everything for her. In fact, you had me transfer two of your cases to your arch-enemy because you wanted to devote your whole time to her.”
“Rich Sandringham is not my arch-enemy. I just think he’s an ass and moderately incompetent.”
She waved a hand. “Regardless, you put your life on hold for her. As soon as things turned good between you, the spark returned to your eyes. I’d never seen you so happy.”
“I was happy.” He’d told her that a few times, so he couldn’t retract the statement now.
“And yet, you let the best thing in your life walk out.” It came out a statement and not a question. Christ, she acted like he was just plain stupid.
Vic stabbed a hand in his hair. “Ellie has a life in Virginia—a gallery to run that she owns.”
“That’s more important than family?”
&nbs
p; “To her it is.” Ellie was used to fancy things, and he was good with pretty much anything.
“I know you love her. Are you afraid you can’t satisfy her?”
He choked out a laugh. “Ah, that is way too personal—even for you. How about you leave my life to me.”
Sharon stood. “Just saying. You’re being an ass.”
The damn thing was that she was right. She knew he’d never fire her no matter what she said. Shit. Seems the women in his life had him wrapped around their little finger. “I’ll take that under consideration.”
“You do that. You’re not going to find a better woman than Ellie Hart.”
“I know, but she can do better than me.” That was the truth.
Sharon shook her head and left. Vic pushed aside that conversation and went back to work on the Harold Evans case. He believed his wife was cheating on him, and it was Vic’s job to find out with whom. He wouldn’t find out sitting on his ass. Mrs. Harold Evans would be getting off work in a few minutes, and it was a Friday night. Harold said he had to go out of town and wanted to see what his wife planned to do. She’d been very secretive about something, sneaking off for the last couple of weeks.
Vic gathered his camera, bundled up against the cold weather, and headed out. Despite the snow covering just about everything, the streets were rather crowded near town. With Christmas but a few weeks away, people seemed to be busy with last minute shopping. After Sharon’s brutal comment about him fucking up his life, even the Christmas decorations didn’t cheer him up as they usually did.
He discreetly parked across the street from the bank and waited for Harold’s wife to exit. It was some thirty minutes later that she came out in her faux fur coat and heels, hurrying to her car. After she was partway down the road, he pulled out and followed her. The residential area was on the outskirts of town, but she drove only six blocks and parked. Interesting. Perhaps she had an appointment with a divorce attorney in town.
As he checked the names of the establishments, he was surprised to see her dash into Fred Astaire’s Dance Studio. Her lover must be inside.
Keeping the heat on in his truck, he leaned back and smiled, thinking about the first time he and El had danced. It was some silent auction event that his commanding officer suggested he attend. Having to wear a tux had been a nightmare, but having El in his arms made up for it.