Down from the Mountain

Ellen kept to her room that afternoon, perhaps unable to summon the energy to go another round with him. Relieved by her disappearance, David decided to hike the three miles to the summit of the mountain. If he stayed in that mausoleum one minute longer, he thought he would go crazy. It made his skin crawl. Too many memories haunted the place. Every turn he made, he expected to see his father and every room he entered, he looked for his mother, his beautiful mother, always ready to laugh, always ready to stop what she was doing and gather him up in her soft, perfumed arms. Almost as if she had known their time together would be short. Sometimes he thought that when she’d died, she’d taken his laughter with her. His father’s, too. Laughter, perfume, hugs and kisses—all the soft, sweet things in life that her two grieving menfolk never managed to make up for.

It was dark, nine-thirty, when he finally returned to the house. The housekeeper met him at the door.

“Miss Ellen asked me to tell you that she had a headache and would see you in the morning. She took a dinner tray in her room. I thought you would like the same.”

David’s windblown hair almost hid his scars, but they couldn’t disguise the tired lines that pulled his mouth taut. Still, he managed a faint smile. “Dinner and a headache? Sounds fine to me.”

Hurrying upstairs, he paused by Ellen’s door and almost knocked, but a glance down at his stained jeans and muddy work boots changed his mind. When he finished showering, his dinner tray was waiting in his room, the aroma of beef stew and freshly baked rolls reminding him how hungry he was. He was so famished, he ate in his bath towel, downed the entire jug of iced tea and practically licked the dessert plate clean. Feeling more human, he threw on a pair of cutoffs and made his way down the hall to Ellen’s bedroom. He knocked lightly, but when there was no answer, he turned the knob.

The room was dark but a sliver of moonlight let him see exactly where everything was, including Ellen. Huddled beneath a silvery sheet, she was sound asleep. Her red hair curling around her delicate face, a hand tucked beneath her cheek, she was a vision he thought existed only in fairy tales. Annoyed with himself for being so fanciful, he nudged her awake more roughly than he meant. And when she woke with a start, he cursed himself for a fool, for not realizing how sensitive she must be to touch.

“Whoa, Nellie! It’s only me, David.” He caught her just before she toppled off the bed in panic.

Ellen relaxed as David’s voice began to register in her clouded mind. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she remembered she wasn’t dressed and covered herself, but not before David got an eyeful. One beautiful lady, he thought, and sighed wearily as he released her.

Scurrying back against the headboard, Ellen pulled the bedding around her. No one invaded her privacy, it was a cardinal rule. If she didn’t answer a knock at her door, it was understood by the household that she didn’t wish to be disturbed. David’s invasion—although she dimly understood he was unaware of his trespass—made her want to rage and cry at the same time. It reminded her of her vulnerability on about a thousand different levels. Still, she didn’t want to start an argument with him in the middle of the night, and her in a flimsy nightgown, to boot. Maybe he’d seen hundreds of half-naked women and would find her modesty laughable, but it wasn’t anything she was used to. So she struggled to remain calm, trying to find him with her sightless eyes.

David understood immediately. “I’m here, to your right. We have to talk.”

“Now? In the middle of the night?”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t watching the clock. Unfortunately, Harry Gold is. And I wanted to know why you disappeared today.”

“Why I disappeared? What about you? You made yourself pretty scarce, too!” Ellen sniffed.

“True.” He couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his mouth. Her indignation was charming, but in giving him the cold shoulder, Ellen had unintentionally given him another wonderful eyeful. Scanning the smooth sweep of her elegant shoulder, the delicate curve of her spine, the satin sheen of her skin in the moonlight, he thought it was ironic that he’d been asked to protect the one woman in the world who might need protecting from him. Having not seriously looked at a woman in years, he was susceptible to a pretty face. A few years back, when he’d still harbored hopes of a normal life, he’d fallen hard for a little blonde from Lake George. It had been a complete disaster. Although the girl had been willing to see him, her parents had come down on him as if he were a freak. It was his last attempt at a normal relationship. The enchantment of romance would never be his. If it happened sometimes that the grief that lingered challenged the thin veneer of his pride, like now… Well, he thanked God that Ellen couldn’t see his fists clenched at his side, see how dry his lips had become, see how hard he strove to speak.

“Look, lady,” he finally rasped, trying to sound as normal as possible, “let’s not equivocate. Harry needs our decision by noon. What’s it going to be?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Ellen reminded him, impatience coloring her voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m at your mercy, for goodness’ sake! Either you agree to help me, or you don’t, but I certainly can’t win an argument over this. I can’t force you, can I?” she exclaimed.

In the face of such odds, David admired her spunk. “True enough. Okay, then. This operation of yours. What’s it all about?”

Ellen didn’t know how to answer. How did she explain the chance of a lifetime—or at least, the hope of one? How could she describe what successful surgery would mean to her? How could she describe its failure? It served no purpose. Since David had no idea what it meant to be handicapped, she wasn’t sure she could find the right words to explain it. In the end, she decided not to try, to just stick to the facts. He wasn’t stupid, just ornery. He’d figure the rest out for himself.

“There’s a doctor in Baltimore named Charles Gleason. Have you ever heard of him? He’s been doing a great deal of research on my type of eye condition, using laser beams. He’s had success—in varying degrees—returning sight to the blind. It gets him a lot of press coverage. And guess what?” she laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. “It seems his father was a friend of your father’s from their college days. When John read about this research, and found out who was doing it, he begged—well, maybe ordered is a better word—the famous Dr. Gleason to examine me, to see whether I was a viable candidate for his research. I had nothing to lose, you see.”

She shivered, but David knew she wasn’t cold because he heard the resignation in her voice. Disturbed, he paced the room. For the first time he noticed how carefully the furniture skirted the walls. In deference to her blindness, he supposed. Come to think of it, most of the house was set up like that, even if it was a fancy mansion. Was this what his father intended for him to do the next two months? Keep Ellen out of harm’s way; wrap her in cotton wool until the big day?

Baby-sit, for chrissake?

“Go on,” he prompted her while he tried to get comfortable on a delicate lady’s chair never meant for his bulk. “The operation?”

Ellen jumped, startled by the sudden force of David’s deep resonant voice, so how unlike his father’s light lilt. In her world, so heavily invested in sound, David’s husky voice was mesmerizing. She could have listened to him speak for hours, he cut right through to her senses. Too bad the rest of him came with that great voice. Even now she could detect the irritation he tried so unsuccessfully to hide.

“Right,” she sighed. “Dr. Gleason. Well, there’s not much else to tell. No one could refuse John Hartwell once he’d made up his mind, and he convinced Charles to take me on.”

“Charles?” David frowned.

“Dr. Gleason insists that I call him Charles,” Ellen said lightly. “He says it’s more friendly-like.”

I’ll just bet, David swore to himself as he stared at the rise and fall of Ellen’s breasts in the watery moonlight.

“Be that as it may, there was quite a waiting list and I couldn’t be scheduled for surgery until this fall, October fourth, to be exact. It’s been a long wait, well over a year, and something tells me John knew he wouldn’t be there. Now that I think about it, that would explain his curious will, wouldn’t it?” she said thoughtfully.

David didn’t answer. He was still mulling over Charles.

“Anyway,” Ellen continued, reining in her sorrow, “I need to be in Baltimore a day or two prior to the operation, for a battery of tests. I can stay in a hotel, but I obviously can’t negotiate Baltimore alone. I need an escort and I guess John thought you were the best candidate.” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

David was incredulous at her casual apology. “Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? You’ve just inherited two million dollars. That’s a helluva lot of seeing-eye dogs!”

Ellen’s mouth twisted wryly. “You don’t mince words, do you, Mr. Hartwell? I’m simply trying to say that I’m sorry you’ve been assigned this distasteful job, I’m sorry that you’re being blackmailed for your share of your rightful inheritance, and I’m sure sorry that I can’t do something about it. But like I said, you don’t have to help me.”

“Oh, sure, right, like I have a choice. I just walk away and live with my conscience for the rest of my life, knowing that I blew your opportunity to live a normal life!”

“I know,” Ellen agreed sadly. “It’s blackmail, any way you look at it. I just hope you believe that I had no hand in the matter.” She waited for his assurance, but wasn’t surprised when it wasn’t forthcoming. A hex on the strong, silent type, she swore silently, and tried another tack.

“Would it help if I said I wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

His skeptical laugh ruffled her feathers.

“I’m perfectly able to care for myself,” she continued. “I can even cook, once I know where everything is…sort of.”

David’s silence was unnerving until it occurred to Ellen that she was looking at the situation solely from her point of view. “Oh, you’re afraid I’m going to invade your privacy! Oh, don’t be,” she begged. “I’ll be the original invisible woman. Women!” she gasped. “Oh! You’re afraid I’ll be in the way of you and your…er…women friends.” She blushed hotly.

“Dammit all!”

“Oh, I won’t be,” Ellen hurried on, ignoring David’s groans now that she understood the situation. “Do you have a girlfriend? I know you’re not married, but a girlfriend, yes, I can see how that might concern you. Well, don’t you worry. I’ll explain everything to her. And when you want to be alone, I’ll stay here in my room. You won’t hear a peep out of me.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ellen, stop babbling! Just stop!” David sprang from his chair. Frantic, he made a decision.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”

“What?” she gasped, jerking upright.

“I didn’t hear anything in my father’s will that indicated that we had to stay in Montana.”

“I just assumed…I thought…I can’t! This is my home!”

“So what? It’s mine, too. And I hate it! So, like I said, Miss Candler, we’re leaving in an hour. I just ate, and I slept away half the afternoon on top of this bloody mountain. I’m set to drive.”

“But I have to pack. It will take me time.”

“You have plenty of time. I’ve got to make some phone calls. Sixty minutes should do it.”

“An hour?” Ellen protested. “I can hardly dress in that time, much less pack!”

“Look, sweetheart, you’re a millionaire now. If you forget anything, you can buy it by the gross.”

“I won’t go! I can’t! That’s all there is to it!” Her arms folded on her chest, Ellen was a study in rebellion, but David Hartwell was unimpressed.

“Listen, lady, my father wasn’t the only bastard in the family,” he swore, giving a sharp tug to her blanket. With a screech, Ellen scrambled to conceal herself, but David’s breath was the only thing to warm her as his massive hands grasped her waist.

“I’ll be back in an hour, princess, so you might want to put on some clothes. Personally, I have no objection to your traveling as you are, but the airline might.”

“O-oh, you…you…monster! I won’t go!”

David’s hands tightened at her use of the word monster, even though he knew her choice of words was merely unfortunate. “Oh, you’ll go, sweetheart, make no mistake, because I’ll carry you stark-naked and screaming out of this mausoleum, if need be!”

“You snake! You wouldn’t dare!”

David shrugged, his voice unsympathetic. “It’s time to come down from the mountain, Ellen.”

Time for both of us, if only you knew.

Chapter Three

The storm broke about thirty minutes after they left. Ellen could hear the rain pounding on the car’s roof, falling harder and growing louder as the miles flew by, while an ominous rumble of thunder trailed them. She wished David would pull over and let the storm ride itself out, but he did not, and after the embarrassing scene of their departure, she didn’t dare ask him anything.

She hadn’t been ready. She’d had just enough time to shower and dress before he’d returned. But he did give her the extra time she needed, even helped her to gather her belongings. Then he had scooped her up and bounded down the stairs, stationing her on the bottom step and ordering her not to move. A sudden cold draft had told her that he had gone outside, the distant slam of a car door said that he was loading up their gear. Then he was back, bringing the cool night air with him.

“It’s chilly outside. I’d forgotten how cool the nights were here in Montana, even in the summer.” Draping a heavy sweater over her shoulders, David thrust her cane in her hand. “I’ve put your purse in the car,” he said, his voice fading as he strode to the door.

Glowering, Ellen shrugged and let the sweater fall to the floor. “I told you I didn’t want to go.”

David came back and stood silently, looking down at the little woman trying to face off with him. A part of him admired her bravura, but only a part of him. Hands in his pockets, a frown across his face, he tried to decide what to do.

The mountain air on his clothing was sweet and moist, and Ellen thought she could almost smell the night. She could feel him towering over her, his breath ruffling her hair. Was he trying to intimidate her with his size? “Didn’t you hear me?” she snapped, with a stomp of her foot. “For the millionth time, I don’t want to go!”

“Yes, I heard you! Every time!” David told her crisply. Retrieving her sweater, he tied it tightly in place.

“But I didn’t pack enough,” she wailed. “I haven’t even got a pair of socks in my bag!”

“This country’s full of malls, and you have enough plastic in your wallet to buy out most of them!”

“You’ve been spying on me!”

“Just wanted to be sure you had your driver’s license,” he mocked.

“I don’t want to go with you!”

“Pretend.”

Ellen’s eyes filled. “I’m afraid.”

David reached out to her in a gesture meant to comfort, that surprised him no less than she. Their foreheads touching, his black waves tangled with her red curls, his voice was soothing, but insistent. “I know, Ellen. I know that you’re afraid. That’s why you must leave. But I’m the gun hired to protect you, remember?”

“You won’t. You don’t really care what happens to me. You’re just doing it for the money!”

His wide thumbs scraping away her tears, David cupped her ashen face with his large, calloused hands. His mouth didn’t quite brush hers as he searched her stricken, blind eyes and tried to promise with words what she could not read in his eyes. “Ellen Candler, nothing, but nothing, is going to happen to you! This is going to be the most boring trip of your life. I’ll be with you every moment of the day. Every move you make. You think you’re sick of me now?” he teased. “See how you feel in a week. Maybe you’re right. In a way, I’m being paid to do a job, but I’ll be good at it, don’t you worry.”

She didn’t believe him. He could tell by the way she was breathing, by the way her hands fluttered, that she was starting to panic. Cursing beneath his breath, David hurried her out into the night. Sweet Jesus, she felt so good in his arms, her delicate frame quivering while he fumbled with the handle. He practically threw her into the car and gunned the engine, to hell with the potholes that had thrown him on his way up.

He felt possessed. The minute he’d laid eyes on Ellen, he’d known she spelled trouble. Only two days and she was taking over his mind, seeping under his skin—her silly tears, her flashing temper, her shy smile. Even her damned perfume was starting to cling to his clothes. He rubbed his pitted cheek to remind himself why he couldn’t have her. Rage was the only safe thing to feel and if he tried, it wouldn’t be so hard to accomplish. All he had to do was look in the mirror.

Ellen wasn’t sure if that was a snarl she heard, but whatever it was made her burrow deeper into her seat. She knew David was deeply upset, but so much of what she said and did angered him. If only he knew how desperate she was. Desperate not to be buried by walls she herself had built and was terrified to tear down.

They drove in silence until Ellen fell asleep and David was finally able to relax. He never realized a body could curl so comfortably across a bench seat—in her sleep, she had made a pillow of his thigh—but she was such a tiny thing, come to think of it. Heading south, he drove another hour, a protective hand on her shoulder. Toward five or so, Ellen stirred and stretched.

“Hey, watch it, princess, that’s my driving arm you’re poking. Unless you want to take over the wheel,” he joked.

Blushing, Ellen rose and tried to finger-comb her hair.

“So, exactly what are the politics of teasing a blind person? Is it a no-no, or what?”

“Jokes would be a novelty.” She smiled in a sleepy haze.

“I just wanted to be sure. Wouldn’t want you to report me to the American Institute of the Blind, or worse, the Civil Liberties Union. And stop playing with your hair. You look fine, and besides—no pun intended—there’s no one here to see, except me. And I don’t count, right?”

“I suppose not,” she agreed vaguely, not wishing to quarrel. Unable to see the pain in David’s eyes. “Where are we?”

“A mile or so out of Floweree, your old hometown, didn’t you say? I’m looking for a gas station. We need to fill up and I’d guess you could use the stretch.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Great Falls, to the airport. We’re not that far.”

Waiting for Ellen to protest, David was surprised when she didn’t. He couldn’t know that Ellen had never flown before and was trying to quell a sudden rise of hysteria. But she wasn’t about to say so. She didn’t want to give him any more ammunition for the faultfinding campaign he seemed to be waging. They finished the drive to the airport in silence, but she couldn’t know how many times he glanced her way.

“Two one-way tickets to Albany, New York,” she heard him say when, having returned the rental car, they had made their way to the airport lobby. Then, with an hour to kill before boarding, David guided Ellen to a nearby restaurant that had just opened its doors. In the rosy morning light of dawn, the strain of traveling was having a pronounced effect on Ellen, and he suspected that the bombardment of strange noises on her ears was also taking its toll. Her lips were white and a web of worry lines had appeared near her eyes. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into the safety net of his arms. When a noisy lunch trolley rattled by and she buried her face in his jacket, he knew she was near the end of her rope.

“Take it easy, kid. I’m right here,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said, raising her head even while her shoulders sagged beneath his hand.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, alarmed at her pallor. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“A cup of tea is definitely in order.” She smiled wanly.

David was glad Ellen couldn’t see the waitress stare as she led them to a booth. The woman didn’t know who to stare at first, the beautiful blind girl clutching a fancy wooden cane, or her heavily cloaked companion. If she’d seen his scars, she would have positively gawked, but David’s face, when he ordered breakfast, was carefully hidden by his public persona, sunglasses and a huge felt hat. Though he had lots of hats and tons of sunglasses, his biggest regret was his inability to grow a beard. It would have been such a help, but unfortunately his scars hindered an even growth of facial hair along the right side of his face.

The couple made small talk, desultory and polite, while they waited for their order. David figured Ellen needed time to calm down, catch her breath and get her bearings. He had a hunch she didn’t get out much. And then, they both recognized a mutual cease-fire when they saw one. Besides, he could hardly believe his good fortune, sharing a table with a woman and not having to worry about his appearance.

And Ellen wasn’t just any woman, she was a goddess. The sun rising across the tarmac painted a golden spray across her porcelain face and turned her hair to a Titian halo. David felt like a kid with a box of Cracker Jack, and he’d steeled himself against the revulsion of strangers too many times not to indulge himself now. And Ellen, having no idea what he looked like, was the bonus prize. No, she didn’t know. She would never have been able to hide her knowledge from him, she was such a transparent little thing. Thank God, his father had not revealed his disfigurement. Omitting to tell Ellen about David’s horrendous scars was a gift John would never know he gave his son.

David watched though, with no small amusement, as she shredded her paper napkin all over the table. “Nervous?” he asked, covered her fluttering hands with his own.

“How can you tell?” She smiled weakly. “I keep telling myself to trust you to not leave me stranded mid-journey, but—”

“A good idea, trusting me.”

“Yes, well…” She made no effort to move her hands, savoring instead the soothing warmth they shared. She hardly needed to move her fingers to detect his rough, swollen knuckles. “You know, David,” she said as she turned his hands in hers and lightly explored his palms, “most people let me see them, through touch. Will you let me touch you sometime? Your face, I mean.”

“Hell, no!”

His vehemence surprised her. “Why not? I won’t hurt you. I just flick my fingers over your face, like I’m doing to your hands now. It helps me to form an impression of you, gives me something to work with.”

“Isn’t my lousy temper enough for you to work with?”

“You have something there,” Ellen chuckled. “But I’m serious. It’s what blind people do.”

“I’ll think about it,” David stalled, unable to come up with a reason for refusing.

“Will you? Do you promise? But you must be very handsome to be so vain,” she teased. She was on her second cup of sugary hot tea and feeling calmer.

He paused in the middle of stirring his coffee. “Handsome? Vain?”

“Are you?” she persisted.

“Am I what?”

“Handsome.”

“Lady,” he laughed harshly, “I’m as ugly as sin. Ask anyone.”

Thankfully the huge breakfast they had ordered finally arrived to distract them. The amused waitress looked askance at Ellen’s slight build, but said nothing as she placed plate after plate on their table. David didn’t say anything, either, as he watched Ellen devour two eggs, a small stack of pancakes and a glass of cold milk. He liked that her appetite was uninhibited and couldn’t help wondering if her other appetites were just as hearty.

“It must have cost my father a fortune to feed you,” he joked as he pushed his own plate aside. His clumsy attempt to make peace fell flat. Red-faced, Ellen quietly put down her fork and folded her hands. “Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I enjoyed watching you eat. Lots of women pick at their food as if it were a trial.”