“El.”
If her heart would have stopped any longer, Ellen would have sworn she could have dropped dead. Instinctively she slammed the drawer shut with her shin and shoved the folded piece of paper in the front pocket of her pants at the same time then she stood up.
“El?” Frank had a chuckle and question to his voice. “What . . .”
“Frank.” Ellen spun around. Nervously she ran her fingers through her hair. Her face was flushed and her heartbeat strong. “What is it?”
“What are you doing?”
“What am I . . .” Ellen took a breath. “It really isn’t any of your business, is it? This is my bedroom.”
“That’s Dean’s dresser.”
“Frank!” Ellen lost it. She blasted his name so loudly it startled him. “Fuck you!”
“El, shit. I was . . .”
“It’s none of your business! All right! All right!” She barged across the bedroom.
As Ellen stormed by him, Frank grasped her arm. “I didn’t mean to . . .”
“What, spy?”
“Can I finish?”
“Can I go?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Ellen snatched her arm away. “God! I can’t even be in my own bedroom without someone spying on me.”
“The door was open and . . .”
“The door was open, asshole,” Ellen screamed, “because you cemented it that way!” Ellen tried to shut the door as a visual for him and it didn’t budge. “Now it won’t close. It . . .” Ellen kicked the door. “Will never . . .” She kicked it again. “Close!” With a spin, she slammed the side of her fist into the door and stormed away.
Frank took a step to follow Ellen and stopped. He debated in his mind what would be the right thing to do. Considering he had a community to protect and tracking to watch all night, a long, mentally stressful and verbal lashing would only be detrimental so Frank, figuring she was still mad about the cementing the door issue, returned to getting ready for work.
Ellen paused on her porch to catch her hyperventilating breath. She heard the applause that seeped to her from center town. The heartbeat pounding in her ears matched the count off of the next song the Starters began and she reached into her front pocket and pulled out the squared piece of paper. She hesitated in thought before unfolding it. Was it any of her business? Was it anything at all? She stared at the folded paper lit by her porch light. A part of her wanted to look, a part of her felt guilty for the way she found it. But she did find it, tucked in the back pocket of a pair of pants Dean hadn’t worn since . . . Ellen smiled . . . pants he hadn’t worn since they were married.
Exhaling deeply in relief, Ellen immediately thought it had to be something to do with their wedding. She unfolded the first fold, then the second, and then she stopped. Ellen realized at that moment, right or wrong for having that note, she couldn’t read it. The note could be anything, a picture drawn by Alex, a note from herself, a formula, anything but what Ellen’s mind feared it was. She was wrong. Dead wrong. She was wrong for taking the note and wrong for searching Dean’s things. She told herself she trusted Dean and believed in him. With those thoughts, she placed the note back in her jeans, made a mind-plan to return it the first chance she had, and then stepped off her porch and headed back to town.
^^^^
In the midst of their laugher, Johnny held a finger to his lips to quiet Bev. He pointed to the wall. “They are paper-thin.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered then laughed again. “Did you see Ellen when she came back?”
“On man.” Johnny flung his head back. “And then my dad . . .” Johnny paused to laugh. “He asked me to keep an eye on Ellen because something was wrong.”
“You’ll do that.”
“Oh yeah. Right away.” Johnny walked over to the couch and plopped down. “How did you pick that up? I have to tell you, it was brilliant.”
“Persistence.” Bev joined him on the sofa.
“And here I thought all you got out of those bedrooms scenes was off.”
The smiled dropped from Bev’s face.
“Lighten up.” Johnny nudged her. “Your dad is gonna be so proud.”
“Wait till we call him. It fell into my lap. I think it was like the fifth time I watched that one bedroom scene and I finally let the conversation play all the way through.”
“It is amazing what people discuss in the privacy of their bedrooms.”
“Amazing.” Bev returned to smiling. “And the plants?”
“Tucked away and waiting to be found. We have to push this along before it gets past the point where we’ll not be able to pull it off.”
“Pull it off?” Bev questioned. “We pulled it off. We just need to put the icing on the cake. We have to get to that soon.”
“Yeah, I know and we only have like a week before we can’t use it anymore.”
“Tomorrow will get us there. If Ellen was shaken today, tomorrow . . .” Bev smiled. “She falls over.”
^^^^
Another glance at the time and Dean’s hand tapped the empty spot on the bed next to him. He could hear Ellen rustling around in the living room. What she was doing he didn’t have a clue. He’d tap his hand as he sat on top of the covers. He wore only his jeans and he was propped up with pillows. Tap, listen, lean forward, peer. No Ellen. He tried to zoom in for kid sounds, but he knew they were tired and passed out from the day. Thinking maybe Ellen was getting something special ready, Dean reached into his night stand and pulled out his book. He’d wait.
Opening to the bookmark made by Alexandra, Dean only made it to the third sentence when the rumbling of the vacuum startled him. “You have got to be kidding,” Dean spoke out loud. He set down his book, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. Was Ellen trying to wake up the kids? She knew he was waiting for her so they could take advantage of a Frank-free night. Walking from the bedroom, Dean followed the sweeper sounds. When he reached the end of the hall, arms folded to his bare chest, he saw Ellen sweeping away in the living room. “El,” he called out.
She kept sweeping.
“El.” He walked closer.
“Huh?” She moved the vacuum.
“Did you spill something?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“I see.” Dean nodded once, looked for the cord, followed it to the wall, and pulled out the plug.
Silence.
“Dean?” Ellen spun around. He was winding up the cord. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?”
“Sweeping.”
“At midnight?”
“It needed to be swept.”
“Not at midnight.” Dean grabbed her hand. “And especially not on a Frank-free evening.” Dean, without waiting, headed back to the bedroom, pulling Ellen with him.
“Dean, the house needs to be cleaned. We have work . . .”
“El.” Dean turned around in the hall. “I thought we planned this? I thought as soon as we found out Frank was working all night again, we were gonna use this time.”
“Not tonight.” Ellen walked by him to the bedroom.
“Not tonight?” Dean followed her. “Are you tired?”
“Not really.” Ellen walked to her dresser and opened the front drawer.
“No feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” She pulled out her tee-shirt to wear to bed.
“Are you mad at me?” Dean walked to her.
“No.”
“You’re not mad at me?” He watched her shake her head ‘no’ as she dropped her jeans and stepped out of them. Dean smiled. “Oh, I get it.” He walked up behind her. “You’re kidding.” Immediately his hands moved to her bare legs, his lips to her neck and, as he kissed her, his hands slid up and lifted her shirt.
“Dean, stop.”
Dean felt her rigid body. She didn’t move, flinch, or even breathe. She stared at their reflections in the dresser mirror. Dean lifted his eyes, his lips still hover
ing the nape of her neck. He saw the expression on her face and he stepped back “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got . . . I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Talk to me.”
“No.”
“El, if it’s something I did . . .” Dean nodded slowly. “She did it to you.”
“Who?”
“Bev.”
Ellen turned around and faced him. “Why would you bring her name up right away? Are you thinking about her?”
“What?” Dean had a laugh to him. “No. I just think it’s pretty obvious with all that’s been said today.”
“I’m sorry.” Ellen held up her hand. “I shouldn’t have snapped.”
“You shouldn’t be thinking what you’re thinking. Seriously El, you think I can sexually juggle two women? I’m uh . . .” Dean tilted his head. “I’m getting old.”
“It’s just that she . . .”
“She’s trying to start trouble between us and … you’re letting her. Come on, El.” Dean laid his hands on her waist and pulled her into him. “It’s one of those nights where it doesn’t matter if our door is cemented open. No one will be yelling out, ‘I hear a bed squeaking . . .”
Ellen laughed. “That’s a Frank insurance step so we don’t.”
“He drives me nuts. He’s not here.”
“All right.”
Wanting to say ‘yes’ in excitement but opting to kiss Ellen instead, Dean brought his lips closer.
“Dean?”
With a soft ‘hmm?’ Dean kissed her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Does it have to do with making love?”
“Not really.”
“Then no.”
“Dean.”
Dean stepped back. “What’s wrong?”
“When you did the hysterectomy . . .”
Dean let out a whining laugh, moving dramatically back. “Do we have to talk about this now. Right now?”
“I need to talk about it.”
“Ellen, you always need to talk about it.”
Ellen suddenly looked up at him. “That is a really cold thing to say.”
“I’m sorry.” Dean held out his hand. “I didn’t mean to be cold. It’s just that I think more than the surgery, the secret is killing you.”
“It’s not a secret anymore.”
“No, Bev knows, probably because you and I talk about it a lot. Ellen, it had to be done. O.K. There’s nothing wrong with you. Your period would be due now, wouldn’t it?”
“What?” Ellen was shocked.
“Every month, once a month, we go through this.”
“Dean . . .”
“I’m just saying . . .” Dean held out his hand in defense. “The hormones will do that to you. You still have your . . .”
“Knock it off.” Ellen walked by him.
“What?”
“You’re being a dick about this.”
“A dick? El, sweetheart.” Dean tried pleading and speaking sweetly. “I just don’t know what more I can say to you. That’s all. Maybe you need to talk to someone else. Jason, Andrea . . .”
“No.”
“Gemma. How about Melissa? Melissa went through the same thing at the same age. Remember, she felt the same way. Talk to her.”
“Maybe . . .”
“Or Frank.”
“No.” Ellen shook her head. “Frank has this ideal of me. God, he plans on my birthing another child to him someday.”
“You can’t.”
“Obviously.” Ellen rolled her eyes.
“Why would he even plan on that?” Dean asked. “Seriously, I didn’t even want to chance having another child with you.”
“Oh . . . fuck you.” Ellen tried to storm by him.
“What did I say?”
“Fuck you.”
“I did not say that.”
Ellen spun harshly to him. “Chance having another child with me? What? Will it strap you to me, Dean? Is that why you did the surgery so you don’t have to have another child with me?”
“Now I will say it. Fuck you.” Dean took a step to her in anger. “How dare you question my ethics as a doctor or motives behind why I would operate!”
“Don’t you raise your voice to me.”
“Don’t you ever insinuate that to me again! Ever. It is not my fault that you had problems with Nick. I am not to blame that your body could not take anymore. I only did what was best for you, not as a doctor but as a man who loves you. God, Ellen! You think I would even remotely want to risk your life by you getting pregnant? Not to mention the fact that after the birth you could have started to hemorrhage at any moment and died. Died! That is not a chance I would take, not with anyone and especially not with you!”
Post-argumentative silence hit at that exact moment and before anymore could be said, the phone rang.
Dean released his tense breath and moved to the phone when he saw Ellen take a step. “I’ll get it.” Really upset at the bad timing of the call, Dean picked it up. “Yes.” He rubbed his eyes. “This is Dr. Hayes.” He looked up to Ellen. “Hold on.” He extended the phone to her. “For you.”
Ellen reached out for the phone. “This is Dr. Hayes. Hey, Blue . . . you’re kidding. Just monitor the . . . can’t you . . . she what? You’re kidding. I’ll be there in a half hour.” Ellen walked by Dean and hung up the phone.
“You’ll be where in a half hour?”
“New Bowman. Monica, our high risk pregnancy, is in labor. We’re going to let her deliver.”
“Blue can’t handle it?”
“Yeah, he can but she won’t spread her legs for him. She wants me.” Ellen walked to the dresser, bent down, and picked up her jeans.
“Repeat that.”
“Repeat what?”
“Why Blue can’t deliver the baby.”
“She won’t . . . she won’t uncross her legs.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” Dean’s pointing finger came to his lip and he hid his laugh.
Ellen lost all seriousness and smiled as she finished getting dressed. “That is kind of funny.”
“Yeah it is.” Dean moved to her and helped her tuck in her shirt. “Can we not fight before you leave? Please.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Dean. I’m so . . . so tense about all this trouble. I wish you would understand that.”
“If I promise . . .” Dean softened his voice. “If I promise to really try to understand to understand better, will we please not be fighting when you leave?”
“Will you call Frank and get me a ride to New Bowman?”
“Aw.” Dean made a fake crying sound. “I hate calling Frank. I’ll call Joe.”
“He’ll tell you to call Frank. When Frank works nights, Frank’s in charge.”
“Shit.”
“Please.”
“It’s torture calling him.” Dean, shaking his head in reluctant agreement, picked up the phone and dialed. “Frank.”
“Dean.”
“Frank, I have a favor.”
“No, Dean I will not tuck you in.” Frank said cockily on the phone.
“Frank, you’re an ass. Listen, Ellen needs to get to New Bowman.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Now?” Frank’s voice rose. “It’s night. There’s fuckin Savages be-bopping around out there. She has to go right now? Why?”
“The only pregnant woman in Bowman is having her baby.”
“They have a doctor.”
“Well, get this,” Dean said. “She won’t spread her legs for him.”
“You gotta be fuckin kidding.”
“She wants Ellen.”
“It’s the lesbian thing. You’re a doctor, get on the phone, tell her to open her goddamn legs, and let the man do the job. Leave Ellen in Beginnings where it’s safe.”
Ellen tapped Dean on the shoulder and whispered “What’s he saying?”
Dean covered the receiver. “He’s thinking of something.” He
moved his hand. “Frank, can you?”
Frank grunted. “All right. Tell her Robbie will be by with the Jeep. He’ll fly her there but she’s gonna have to wait until dawn for him to get her. One trip out at night is enough.”
“Can’t Robbie wait?” Dean asked.
“No, Robbie can’t wait,” Frank snapped. “I need him here. Besides, we don’t know how long it’s gonna take this broad to birth this kid. Tell Ellen to be ready.”
“I’ll tell her. Thanks.” Dean got ready to hang up the phone.
“Oh hey, Dean.” Frank called him back.
“Yeah?”
“Man, I’m not there and the kids are probably sleeping. Looks like Bowman ruins another night again. Bye.” Frank hung up.
Dean grumbled as he set down the receiver.
“What’s wrong?” Ellen asked.
“Robbie’s on his way and . . .” Dean pointed to the phone. “I hate that man.”
^^^^
Robbie never minded flying, but it had been a really long day for him. He sneaked in an hour nap, but it didn’t help the fact that he was pushing twenty-four hours awake and still had several more to go. He hoped could kick back and crash in the chair while working Tracking with Frank.
It was quiet. He didn’t hear any noise seeping through the Tracking door and that was a good sign. He walked in. Frank was in the chair with his legs on the counter and papers in his hand.
“Hey, Frank.” Robbie dropped the keys down.
“Hey little brother.”
“Reports?” Robbie pointed to the papers Frank read as he pulled the chair out to sit.
“No, check this out. I’m reading the sample chapter of that New Beginnings Book.”
Robbie stood back up and headed to the door.
“Where are you going?” Frank asked.
“I feel really bad, Frank.”
“Why? Are you sick?”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 64