by Regan Forest
Gramps had left and his love was gone with him, and with Meredith so silent, behind the veil, Ellen had never felt so alone. Under the shade trees, a shadow suddenly fell over her, and the shadow was strangely warm, familiar.
Before she could turn, he moved in close and took her hand. At his caring touch, the weight of loneliness lightened.
What was he doing out of the hospital? Ellen had assumed he wouldn’t be discharged for another couple of days. He must have come straight from his hospital bed! She could feel the love in the warmth of his hand, comforting her. It was impossible not to love this man. I do love him, I can’t help it.... I love him terribly and helplessly.
Cody said nothing but stood very close, his shoulder against hers. His silence was saying, “I’m here for you. Lean on me.”
When the others had offered their condolences, Meredith stepped up to take Ellen’s hand, a silent gesture of love. Through the veil she looked up at Cody, fixing her gaze on him. He stared back, and their eyes locked in an expression of curiosity. A glint of understanding came into his eyes; he saw what no one else in Shadow Valley knew.
Words were unnecessary. Meredith gave Ellen a tender hug and backed away. She disappeared as silently as she had come.
The two of them stood alone at the grave site listening to the song of a warbling bird. He asked, “Are you okay?”
“That was my first question to you, Cody. You must have just been discharged.”
He smiled. “I discharged myself.”
She studied his eyes, which were darker than usual under the clouds. “Was that wise?”
“Sure it was. I thought I might be needed. I wanted to be here for you.”
Ellen looked at the ground because it was hard to look at him. Only someone from Pebble Street would have realized how alone she would be, out here, because of cutting herself off from the rest of the town. Her grandfather’s death had been kept as quiet as possible because he would have wanted it that way, and so did she. Most people wouldn’t understand. Cody would.
He walked with Ellen across the soft green lawn, past cold and silent stones, through the barred metal gate, and onto the road. On the hill behind them, dark against the sky, stood the Whitfield mansion. She noticed Cody looking up at it curiously and wondered if he was thinking of the dream she had told him about—of the two of them in that big old house. It wouldn’t do at all to tell him it was only one dream of many, or that the dreams were becoming more vivid. “Thank you,” she said as they walked.
“For what?”
“For being here.”
His only response was to take her hand protectively.
Their footsteps crunched softly on the surface of the gravel road. Rain-threatening clouds that had been playing dancing games in the sky all day slid lower. Ellen said, “Your ribs are still bandaged, I assume.”
He looked at the sky. “You’re afraid if we get caught in the rain, the bandage will get soaked and soggy?”
“And you’d have to have it replaced.”
He grinned. “I’d just take it off and dry it and you could wrap it back on.”
His suggestion brought a flush to Ellen’s cheeks. The thought of seeing his body—touching his body—caused unwelcome tingling sensations in areas of her own that had been numb for a very long time, perhaps always.
“I’d be too afraid of hurting you,” she said, vaguely aware that the statement was about more than wrapping on a bandage. It was about the deep, trembling needs of her body and her heart, and the temptation to succumb to those needs. The intense and fluctuating emotions of the past few days had left her vulnerable and confused and intensely aware of needs within her that had been so long denied. Cody’s strength and his nearness were as welcome as sunshine shining through a bank of gray clouds.
And he knew it.
“I wouldn’t worry about your touch hurting me,” he said.
She had to think back to what they had been talking about. Oh, the bandage. “Cody, how do you really feel? Be honest. You’re not walking with your usual casual stride.”
He glanced over at her. “I’ve had a cracked rib before. They heal. My concern is how you feel.”
“I’m all right. Gramps prepared both of us for his leaving.”
They walked in silence to the end of the gravel road and the entrance to Pebble Street. Ellen knew he was walking home with her and didn’t try to stop him, even though she had never let anyone, ever before, walk her to her home. It was different now. Everything was different. Even the birds sounded different on Pebble Street. The shade trees cast wider shadows. The paint-chipped houses looked more bleak and forlorn than ever. What might have been silence was filled with the echoes of the past; she didn’t want to go home alone.
On the narrow porch, gazing at the carefully tended flowers in the front yard, he waited for her to unlock the door.
“Do you want to come in? I’ll make us some coffee.”
He nodded, glad she wasn’t going to be stubborn enough to insist on being alone at a time when she needed somebody.
The neatness of the house wasn’t a surprise to him, knowing Ellen. In the front room the furnishings were old but dusted and polished. In front of the small bay window was a table covered with a cloth of antique lace on which sat a vase of fresh flowers that Ellen had cut this morning in honor of the man who had so lovingly grown them.
“Make yourself at home,” she said, self-consciously, knowing he was inspecting her humble surroundings. “I’ll make the coffee.”
He sat at one of the chairs by the window table because a straight chair was more comfortable for his ribs.
When she came back, Cody was staring out the window, deep in thought. She sat in the chair opposite him and leaned on the table. “The street is more run-down than it was when you left.”
“More empty houses.” He turned to her. “This is a friendly house. It’s welcoming. Gives me a good feeling.”
“Thanks. It will be sad to leave it, knowing it will likely go to ruin like the others. No one buys property here.”
“Maybe the street could be revived,” he mused.
“With its reputation? I doubt it.” She met his eyes. “Does it bring back bad memories for you?”
“Some, sure. But there are good memories, as well.”
“One thing it does is provide the impetus for kids to leave and find a better life. You’ve done it. And I will, too.” She noticed how straight he was sitting. “Cody, you’re just out of the hospital. Are you okay?”
“You keep asking that. Don’t I look okay?”
“You look a little tired.”
“Haven’t slept well. Who can sleep in a hospital?”
“How did you find out about Gramps?”
“I had a premonition when you didn’t come back to see me, so I asked around.” Cody’s voice lowered. “He wanted you to be free, didn’t he?”
“Free to leave here, yes.”
Cody sighed. “I understand why you want to get away from Pebble Street.”
“Every day of my life I’ve dreamed of leaving.” Ellen rose. “The coffee must be ready.”
Over several cups of coffee, served in her grandmother’s hand-painted china, and chocolate cake sent over by her boss, they talked of familiar things, even the big old lilac bush at the side of the Reillys’ garage, which still bloomed every spring.
When Cody leaned on his elbow and rubbed his forehead, Ellen asked, “Does your head hurt?”
“I guess it takes a concussion a while to heal. Do you have any aspirin?”
“Yes, I’ll get them.”
This time he followed her into the kitchen and accepted the tablets with a glass of water. Cody didn’t want to leave her alone, but the pain and fatigue were taking their toll. He knew he couldn’t sit up much longer.
She watched him carefully. “You’re in pain.”
“I’d better get myself home,” he said, knowing there was no point in denying the obvious.
She accepte
d the glass back. “You don’t look as if you could make that long walk home. I think you’d better rest.”
He protested, “I came here to be your pillar of strength.”
Ellen laughed. “If I leaned on you right now, I think you’d fall over.”
He was resting against the chipped tiles of the kitchen cabinet. “I hate to admit you’re probably right.”
“Stay and rest, then. There’s a bed upstairs.” The door to her grandfather’s room was still closed; she hadn’t gone in there or touched anything. That left only her bed for him to lie on.
“I’ve been trying to be tough,” he said as he followed her up the stairs, feeling discomfort in each step. “But the truth is, I doubt I could walk all the way back right now. The painkillers have worn off and I’m worn-out.”
“Hospitals don’t like it when you leave without permission.”
“Hell, it’s my body, not theirs.”
The moment he stepped into the room, he knew it was hers. The white furniture and lace curtains and flowered bedspread were what he’d have expected.
Ellen pulled the bedspread aside. “Lie down and rest. You won’t be disturbed here. It’s quieter than the hospital.”
“Hmm. And far more pleasant.” Gratefully, he sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off his shoes and lowered himself onto the pillow. Getting up and down was the worst, except for sneezing or coughing. Once finally comfortable, he said, “You look like you need rest yourself and I’ve taken your bed. It’s a big bed. If you want to lie down, too, there’s room.”
She stared down at him.
He opened one eye in response to her silence. “Hell, I’m not dangerous. Do I look dangerous?”
“Frankly, no. You’re moving like the tin man.”
What’s dangerous, Ellen thought, is the way I feel. The sight of this man lying on her bed was unnerving, almost erotic. It made her realize how cut off she had been from her feelings, from emotions—quite deliberately cut off, to keep something like this from ever happening. Cody had wakened instincts and longings within her that, once wakened, once roused, were taking over her senses. The longing was filling all the empty spaces inside her and tugging at her heartstrings and every vortex of every emotion. With each day of knowing him, gazing at his strong, well-shaped hands, listening to his mesmerizing voice, seeing the depths of his eyes, the longing had become more acute, until now the pent-up emotions were right at the surface, ready to explode.
The grief of the past few days had halted her panic, but ever since she’d felt him take her hand in the cemetery, the hunger and longing had returned full force.
Seeing him lying on her bed was even worse torture. His eyes had closed at once. To all appearances, he was already asleep. It was hard not to lean down and touch him. Why? Ellen asked her traitorous heart. Why him? Why now?
* * *
RAIN CLOUDS HUNG stubbornly over the valley for the rest of the afternoon, gathering strength as the hours passed. By six o’clock a wind had come up and blown in reinforcements.
Cody woke to the sound of rain on the roof. For some moments he didn’t remember where he was, until, as the rain pounded harder and a tree branch scraped against the windows, he smelled the soap-scented sheets of Ellen’s bed, and then became aware of her warmth.
She was asleep beside him, curled on the far edge of the bed. She had changed from her dark dress to jeans and a loose blue shirt. Her feet were bare. The room was filled with shadows because the sky was so dark. It was impossible to guess what time it was, but he must have slept for hours.
He stretched, testing the pain in his torso—much better. Sleep had helped tremendously; he knew it would.
“Listen,” he muttered sleepily. “It’s raining hard.”
Ellen glanced at the clock on the table. “I can’t believe it. Six-fifteen. I slept for over an hour.”
“And I slept four hours?”
She sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. “You must be getting hungry.”
“Not yet.” His hand touched her shoulder. “You didn’t go in to work. Certainly they wouldn’t have expected you to.”
“I had planned to, rather than sit home alone after the burial. But no, I didn’t want to, after all, and you were here and it was raining, so I called in. I sorted through Gramps’s things until I felt exhausted and came up to lie down.”
He urged her to lie beside him again and to rest her head on his shoulder. “It’s nice here next to you, listening to the rain. I haven’t known anything as nice for a long time.”
They lay still, lulled by the rainstorm. His hand caressed her shoulder. “Ellen, why have you chosen to be lonely?”
The question took her by surprise. “I’ve explained why I’ve chosen to be alone, not wanting commitments, but I’m not lonely.” It was a lie. Even yesterday she wouldn’t have been aware of the lie, but now she was. And it frightened her.
He didn’t argue, but he knew. He said, “I’ve known for a long time that there was something back here for me, even though I didn’t leave with any intention of returning.”
Not me! she thought, even while allowing herself the luxury of his touch.
Cody leaned closer, so close she could smell his sweet male fragrance. He turned toward her and his lips brushed her forehead, then her cheek, then her mouth. She drew in her breath but did not pull away.
The lips she felt were not the lips of a stranger. It was as if she had known his touch always. His kiss, becoming hot, becoming fire-edged, lingered—gentle and burning at the same time. It was a kiss like no other—filled with the promise of blindingly bright horizons and splendorous paths still unexplored. It left her breathless.
He pulled away only with reluctance, whispering, “You’re the most exciting woman I’ve ever known. I’ve wanted you most of my life, I know that now. My memories of you pulled me back to Shadow Valley.”
“You didn’t remember me,” she argued weakly.
“I did. Just not consciously.”
Teasingly, he blew his breath against her eyes and her lips, cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face toward his. This time his kiss came deeper. Her heart responded with racing beats, her body with a wave of weakness that wouldn’t go away, even when he stopped.
His hand moved over her breast. She felt the warmth and her heart pumping against the gentle pressure. He listened with his hand. “Your heart can’t lie, Ellen. You want me as much as I want you.”
His touch was like ice and fire together. No sensations were ever like this. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“Ah, my sweet, I do. I can feel the trembling in your body. Don’t fight your feelings. They’re good. They are about love.”
Ellen moaned softly, “Oh, Cody... I hardly...I hardly know you....”
He smiled gently. “Take time to get to know me, then. I don’t want to rush you.” His fingers brushed slowly through her hair. “It’s just that being here so close to you in your bed... And the rain... I like rain....”
“So do I,” she said.
“Then enjoy it. Enjoy me. Get to know me all you want. You can take the tape off if you like.”
Her nerves hummed as he persisted with the seductive invitation. “Why...would I want to take off your bandages?”
“Just to know every part of the body I’m offering to you...to do with it what you will.”
Ellen flushed. “And that’s...knowing you?”
“It’s a very good start, my sweet.”
“The tape is there to help your ribs heal and it would hurt to take it off. You shouldn’t suggest such a crazy thing.”
He smiled lazily. “It doesn’t hurt if I lie still. I’m not used to being bound up like this and I hate it. My skin itches. At the hospital they gave me rubdowns—”
“Aha, so that’s it.”
“No, hey, I hadn’t planned to say that.”
“But you wouldn’t turn down the offer, I’ll bet.”
“I’d be crazy to.”
Cody began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’d rather be pampering you, pretty lady, but under the circumstances...”
After all, he had been hurt to save her, Ellen reminded herself. It was the least she could do. She went to the bathroom for her body cream. Cody sat up so she could undo the tape. It was self-adhering tape so he could be rewrapped later. Ellen rubbed the cream on his back, careful not to push too hard. Then he carefully lay down flat so she could do his chest.
Her hands were hot against his cool skin. “You have an angel’s touch,” he said.
An angel was the last thing Ellen felt like at the moment. The trembling in her body wouldn’t stop, and she knew it wouldn’t as long as Cody was lying half-naked on her bed and she was touching him. He had said he wasn’t dangerous, said it half jokingly because his ribs were sore. But there was a delicious danger about him. She could feel herself being led into some enchanted world where his will would become hers. It was both frightening and irresistible because he was both frightening and irresistible.
“Is that better?” she asked, setting aside the jar of skin cream.
“It is if it makes you feel more comfortable with me.” He reached up to her and gently pulled her toward him, to kiss her again.
There was caring in his kiss. Caring more than lust.
As if he read her mind, he muttered, “I’m sensitive to what you’ve been through this week, Ellen, and my idea of distracting you didn’t include...this. I won’t pretend I don’t want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But I respect you enough not to push myself on you—now or ever.”
His deep voice, still a little husky from the long sleep, reached all the way inside her and activated every cell in her body. For the first time in her life, Ellen was being touched by her own loneliness—the loneliness that Cody sensed. And on the shuddering wings of that realization came the awareness of need. Her need to be wanted, to be loved. And this man—this incredible, beautiful man—cared for her. Wanted her. Wanted her.
Even more confounding were the helpless sensations of her own wanting, in return. Just to look at him—to hear his voice, to find herself in the gaze of his eyes—did things to her mind and her body that were impossible to fight, however hard she had tried. The past two weeks had been so difficult, trying to fight herself. Cody had said he wanted to be her strength, but he had to know that he was also her weakness.