She got up off her stool and moved behind the counter. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a cappuccino root beer float.”
Nodding, she went to work. He took a seat two stools down from her textbook. Moments later, she set the tall, fluted glass in front of him, a long spoon and a straw poking up through the foam. He paid the two and a half bucks that she asked for and set about demolishing his treat. By the time he was done, he felt pleasantly full—and had reached a decision of sorts.
Perhaps, he thought, he had been mistaken. Perhaps what he sensed in the Monroes was guilt for having failed to secure the house. Or perhaps he was making excuses for them because he wanted it to be that way. Regardless, he had to get to the bottom of this thing before the insurance company did. Rising, he left the pharmacy and drove straight to Chatam House.
It was pitch-black out, the gloom of the day having carried over into the evening to effectively block even the faint light of the moon and stars. Asher approached the yellow door, its brass lamps burning softly on either side.
To his surprise, Ellie answered the door. The wide, deeply cuffed neck of her oversize sweater had slipped off one smoothly rounded shoulder. She tilted her head, curls bouncing.
“Hello, Ellie. Do you have a few minutes?”
Nodding, she backed out of the doorway. “Come in. Your aunts are in their suite watching TV, I think. Grandpa and I are enjoying the fire in the front parlor.”
He followed her across the foyer. Kent sat in the armchair across from the fire, staring at the dancing flames. He looked up only as Asher folded himself down into the seat next to Ellie on the settee. The older gentleman nodded.
“Asher. Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
Sighing, Asher leaned forward, his elbows braced against his knees, and clasped his hands together. “I want you to know, I’ve prayed about this at length and—”
“You think we set the fire,” Ellie said.
Asher dropped his head. “I didn’t say that. But I’m concerned about what I’ve heard. And about what I haven’t heard from the two of you.”
Ellie and her grandfather traded looks. Kent cleared his throat before saying, “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you? Every instinct I possess is screaming that you haven’t told me everything.”
“I—I can’t imagine what else there is to say,” Kent sputtered.
Odelia barreled into the room at that moment, wearing a blue-green-and-gold paisley caftan. “Did I hear the door? Ah. Asher. Hello, dear.”
“Aunt Odelia.”
She looked from one grim face to another before asking shakily, “Is everything all right?”
Kent twisted sideways in his chair. “Asher is concerned,” he pronounced gravely.
“Oh. Oh, my.” Eyes widening, she stepped forward.
“Not about…” She glanced at Kent before bearing down on Asher. “You wouldn’t…you certainly don’t have to…”
“It’s about the fire,” Asher said in an effort to put her mind at ease.
A muscle twitched below her left eye. Gulping, she nodded. “Well, I’m sure it’s none of my business, then. I’ll leave you to talk. Excuse me please.” Her hands fluttered at her sides. “Always blundering in where I’m not wanted,” she muttered, turning away.
Kent sent Asher an accusatory glare, heaved himself up to his feet and went after her.
Asher sighed and lifted a hand to his forehead. So much for getting to the bottom of things. He couldn’t press the matter now if he wanted to—and he did not, not after seeing the worry on Odelia’s face and the affront on Ellie’s. Neither of them would ever forgive him if he forced Kent to confess to arson, not that he’d intended to do any such thing. He couldn’t reconcile the notion with what he knew of Kent Monroe. Still, something was not right, and Asher couldn’t help feeling trapped between that proverbial rock and hard place, especially given his aunt’s feelings for Monroe—and his feelings for Ellie.
Sitting back, he stretched an arm along the cushioned back of the settee and conceded at least part of the battle. “You’re right about those two.”
She relaxed, brightening visibly. “You think so? What changed your mind?”
He wouldn’t break a confidence, but he didn’t have to. “Did you see the way they looked at each other just now?”
She favored him with a soft smile. “I did, but I didn’t think you would.”
“Now, don’t get your hopes up,” he warned, even though he was absurdly glad to have given her even that little bit of joy. “Odelia has made it clear that she has no intention of leaving her sisters, now or ever.”
“She’s talked to you about him then?”
Asher nodded. “I can’t betray a confidence, of course, but we have spoken about it.”
“Have you counseled her not to get romantically involved?”
He looked her straight in the eye. “No, actually, I haven’t.”
Ellie’s violet gaze studied his face for a long moment. “What are you going to do?”
“What I’ve been doing,” he said. “Pray.”
She smiled again. “Can’t argue with that. I’ve been doing a good bit of it myself.” She scrunched up her nose. “You don’t suppose we’re praying at cross-purposes, do you?”
“I hope not,” he said sincerely. Then, strictly on impulse, he offered her his hand. “We could make sure by praying together.”
Her visage softened. Eyes glowing, she slid close and put her hand in his. This, Asher knew, was right. He might not know what else to do, but this, at least, was exactly the right thing at this moment. Bowing his head and closing his eyes, he began to speak softly.
“Father God, You work all things to our good, even if sometimes it doesn’t seem that way. We may not understand what is going on or why, but deep down we know that You always have our best interests at heart. Keep us mindful of that, Lord, and whatever happens, whatever comes, help us trust You to protect those we love.” Ellie squeezed his hand, and he whispered, “Amen.”
He looked up to find Hypatia and Magnolia standing before him, twin smiles upon their dear old faces. Magnolia wore a rumpled housecoat over a voluminous nightgown and soft corduroy slippers, her thick iron-gray braid curving across one shoulder. Hypatia was her usual tailored self in black silk pajamas, matching wrapper and foam-lined house shoes. It had been years since he’d seen her silver hair down. Caught at her nape with a band, it hung down her back between her shoulder blades.
“Do you mind if we join you?” Hypatia asked.
“Of course not,” Ellie said, loosening her hand from his and sitting back.
“Please,” Asher put in, standing.
“We thought we’d enjoy a cup of tea in front of the fire,” Hypatia said, stepping around the wing chair opposite them to sit down. “Doesn’t seem wise to build a fire in our suite at this hour when this one’s already toasty warm. Won’t you join us in some refreshments?”
“I’m sure there are sandwiches,” Magnolia said, moving toward the door.
“And cookies,” Hypatia called, hunching her shoulders in an expression of girlish delight, her amber eyes sparkling.
Asher smiled and lifted his arm to rest loosely about Ellie’s shoulders. It wasn’t wise, especially with the aunties already speculating about a possible romance between the two of them. Yet, he could not stop himself.
He still had to get to the bottom of the fire at the Monroes’ house, but worries and questions could wait for another day. With no small sense of contentment, he noted that Ellie relaxed beside him, her shoulder tucked into his side.
At that moment, all seemed exactly as it should, and he was in no mood to turn away that gift.
For the first time in a very long while, Asher pushed aside his concerns and simply let himself be at ease.
K
ent caught up to her in the sunroom. His Odelia was surprisingly spry, he noted, breathing heavily. No, not
his
Odelia. Not any longer, not for a very long time. And never again.
“Wait,” he called. “Please.”
Aiming for the door to the outside, she halted in mid-step and, after a moment, turned cautiously, her beautiful eyes wide. Kent felt a kick in his chest. She was still the dearest and most beautiful woman he’d ever known—and he was obviously hurting her. He drew a deep breath, pulling in his stomach as he did so.
“I cannot bear this, Odelia,” he said, his voice even more gravelly than usual. She flinched. “I cannot bear to see you so unhappy,” he went on, moving closer so that he could lower his voice.
She frowned at that. “What makes you think I’m unhappy?”
He sent her a wry look. “My dear, how long have we known each other?”
“Oh, sixty years or so, I imagine,” she muttered, blinking.
“Sixty-two,” he corrected wistfully. “Sixty-two years, two months and three days.”
He remembered it like it was yesterday, that evening when, a reluctant teenager, he had accompanied his parents to a Christmas dinner at Chatam House. Odelia and her sisters had been dressed in matching rose-red frocks heavily embroidered with holly green, their lustrous brown hair brushed and pulled back from their almost identical faces by pearl clips, the ends crimped into curls that brushed their slender shoulders. They were as alike as peas in a pod, yet it had been Odelia who had fascinated him, Odelia whom he had sought out, Odelia who had earned his heart by evening’s end with her sparkling smiles, sweetness and fun spirit. Years had passed before he’d worked up the courage to try to be more than her friend and years after that before he’d gone down on his knee to her. He still could not believe that she’d agreed to marry him that day.
For a time afterward, his world had been golden and bright. When she had broken it off, he was not really surprised—she had always been too far above him—but he was almost mortally wounded. He had eventually pulled himself together and gone on with his life, marrying, becoming a father and grandfather. If not for the latter, he might now question his choices, frankly, but Ellie, dear Ellie, had been his solace and delight since the day of her birth. Not even she, however, could replace this lady in his heart, and as before, he could bear his own pain more easily than Odelia’s.
“I will leave immediately, dear lady,” he announced, “rather than continue to upset you with my presence and my unrequited love.”
Her hands flew to her face. “Did you say…you cannot mean…after everything, can you really l-love me?”
It was his turn to be astonished. He stepped closer, reveling in her proximity. “My darling, I have loved you since I was thirteen years old. I will love you until the day I die. But I would rather love you from afar if that would make you happy again.”
“Oh!” she squeaked, gazing up at him. Her warm amber eyes filled with tears. “I never dreamed that you might still care.”
He bowed his head. “I have asked God so many times to take away these feelings, but for some reason He has chosen not to. And I cannot honestly say that I regret them, except for the pain they may cause you.” He would have stepped away then if she had not reached out her dainty hand and grasped him by the shirtsleeve.
“I, too, have prayed and prayed,” she warbled, “trying to quiet my own feelings, but I cannot help caring for you.”
“Odelia!” Kent whispered, covering her hand with his. “I don’t understand. Are you saying that I must g-go…or…stay?”
“I’m saying that you will break my heart if you leave this house,” she told him, leaning into his chest.
He clapped his arms around her, a familiar elation puffing up his chest. It was the same as that day he’d slipped his ring on her finger. How could it be? She even felt as she had that day, as if she fit perfectly against him. Only one thing was different: he could not quite imagine a future for them this time.
Realizing suddenly that it was the future that he had envisioned for them before that had spelled their end, he pulled himself straight, the top of her head tucked beneath his chin. Had he not been so set on living in the Monroe family home, would things have gone differently for them? The thought of being here at Chatam
House, with her and her sisters and parents, had seemed unthinkable back then. He was an only child, after all, and it had always been understood that the family home would go to him. As a young man eager to begin a family of his own, he had been looking forward to set ting up his household. Living with her family had seemed less than manly, but when she had said that she could never leave her sisters, he had thought that she was really saying that she could not be with him. Had he been wrong about that? If so, what did that mean for them now?
“We will pray through this together, my love,” he decided, “and then we shall see what God may have in store for us.”
She nodded and turned her face up to him, a smile trembling upon her lips. “Yes. Yes, let’s do that.”
Turning her toward one of the colorful chaises, he kept her close. It seemed to him that his feet barely touched the floor as they walked side by side toward an uncertain but hopeful future.
The house was quiet as Ellie walked Asher to the front door, the sisters having retired some time before.
“The weatherman says the front will lift tomorrow,” she told him. They’d sat for long minutes in companionable silence before the fire, but now for some reason she felt compelled to speak.
“That’s good.” He shrugged into his overcoat. “Maybe everyone can get in a practice tomorrow.”
“If we can’t practice, do we still play on Saturday?”
“Depends on the fields. I’ll take a look tomorrow and let everyone know by lunchtime.”
She nodded. “Will I see you at the soccer field?”
He looked at the floor, thumbing the cleft in his strong chin. “I don’t know.” He grimaced. “Maybe.”
Obviously, he was greatly conflicted about seeing her again. Still, he had come over tonight, and he hadn’t, after all, pressed her about the fire. Instead, he’d prayed with her and sat with her. That was something, she supposed. It wasn’t his fault that she wanted more. She backed up a step.
“Sleep well.”
“For a change, you mean?” he quipped lightly. She tilted her head at that. He made a dismissive face. “Soccer season is always a busy time for me, so many details and tons of paperwork. I have a case coming up for trial soon, too.”
“And now us,” she said apologetically.
“And now
you,
” he said, tapping the tip of her nose with his forefinger. “You worry me, Ellen Monroe. You worry me.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. He slipped away before she could decide, leaving her with the bittersweet feeling that he did care for her. But would he ever care in the way she cared for him? She was beginning to believe that he could—if he would allow himself to do so.
“Nervous?”
Ellie whirled away from the soccer field where her team was loping back and forth to warm up before facing their first opponents. Many of them had worn their tutus and winged caps, to the disdain of the other team, but Asher noted that her kids were laughing and grinning while the other coach and team mother were trying to stop the rude jeers of their own players. Ellie shook her head in answer to his question.
“You came,” she said, sounding so pleased that he smiled.
He’d tried not to. He really had. And he’d managed to stay away from practice, at least, but he just couldn’t miss this, her first game on this bright first Saturday of March.
“No reason to be nervous,” he told her.
“I know. Win or lose, what matters most to me personally is that my kids have fun.”
He smiled ruefully. “They might enjoy winning.”
“Better that they enjoy playing soccer,” she countered.
The referee, a tall, thin, teenage boy, blew his whistle and tapped his wristwatch before holding up five fingers. Ellie called her team in and stripped them down to their regulation uniforms, handing off the tutus and caps to a bemused Asher while the team mother passed around small bottles of water. Dropping down into a crouch, Ellie engaged every eye.
“Game faces,” she instructed, demonstrating her own. She held the fierce, wooden expression for several heartbeats before breaking into a wide grin. The children followed suit, sitting solemnly then breaking into laughter. “Okay, listen to me. Just play your positions as you’ve learned them and don’t worry about the outcome. I want you forwards taking shots on goal and not just passing to each other, and you defenders need to keep track of the ball all the time. Remember, you’re in the play even if the ball isn’t close to you, so be ready. Now, let’s have some fun.” Rising to her feet, she called out positions and names. Players popped up one by one and hit the field, high-fiving each other enthusiastically as they took their places.
“You know the other team has been playing together
for a couple years now, don’t you?” Asher asked softly. Despite her bravado, he desperately did not want to see her disappointed.
“I do. I also know that they don’t have the skills our players do,” she told him confidently.
He said nothing to that. The game would tell if she was right about that or not.
Ellie’s team won the coin toss. The ref blew the whistle, and her team made a running kickoff. What followed was twenty-five minutes of chaos that somehow resolved itself into a competition.
The second half proved more settled than the first. With the score one to one, Ellie’s team seemed to sense that they could win. It looked as if the contest would end in a tie, but at the last moment, a girl on Ellie’s team booted a ball right into the corner of the goal. The stunned goalie of the other team stood there with his hands on his hips, glaring in disbelief while Ellie’s Yellow Jackets erupted in cheers. An instant later, the ref blew his whistle. Ellie looked to Asher in astonishment.
“Did we win? Did we win?” one of the bench sitters demanded.
Asher’s lips curved into a lopsided grin. “You did,” he confirmed.
“We actually did!” Ellie threw her arms around Asher’s neck with joy. His own arm automatically banded her waist. For a single heartbeat, they stood in an embrace, and then she straightened.
“Well done, coach,” he muttered.
At almost the same moment, Ilene announced, “Ice cream sandwiches!”
Ellie’s team tugged her away, but she glanced back at him. “You’re right. Winning is fun!”
He bent his head to hide his grin, which grew wider with every moment. “Ellie, Ellie,” he whispered. “What am I going to do with you?”
Ellie certainly hadn’t expected to see Asher here today, not after he’d failed to show at practice, but she could still feel that strong arm snug about her waist even as parents overwhelmed her with their delight.
Somehow, despite the celebratory ice cream sandwiches, Ellie managed to get everyone packed up and the area vacated so that the next team could access the field. All the while, Ellie accepted a steady stream of congratulations while keeping an eye on Asher. He hung about, just a little apart from everyone else. By the time the last kid had piled into his parents’ vehicle, Asher had moved to Ellie’s side, his hands in his pockets. She waved until there was no one to wave at before turning to him.
“That went well, I think,” she said, trying to be modest.
He laughed. “You think? I commend you on your strategy. Fun wins.”
Ellie grinned. “My kids had a blast, didn’t they?”
“And would have if they’d lost,” he conceded.
She grinned so widely that her cheeks hurt. But then his expression sobered, and he looked down.
“Ellie, I think we should talk. Do you have a few minutes now?” Torn between hope and dread, she nodded. “Come sit in my car then,” he suggested.
She followed him across the parking lot and allowed him to hand her up into the passenger-side seat before he moved around to slide beneath the steering wheel.
“Ellie,” he began, reaching for her hand. For a moment he said nothing more, just smoothed the pad of his
thumb across her knuckles. Her heart beat so loudly that she could barely hear him when he said, “This can’t go any further.”
Her heart clunked inside her chest. Had he guessed her feelings, somehow divined her dreams?
“You have to tell me what you’ve been holding back about the fire,” he said. “I
have
to know.”
Relief swamped her, followed swiftly by…guilt. She squeezed her eyes closed, praying for guidance. On one hand, she felt the need to protect her friend. On the other, she
had
omitted information. Then again, Dallas was his sister. Surely, she could trust him to help her protect her friend from any foolish behavior.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up and softly confessed, “I told Dallas we would be gone that night.”
Asher’s expression did not change. “Okay.”
“She knew we would be at the storage unit.”
He just stared at her. “And your point is?”
Ellie gulped and lost her nerve. “I—I just remembered, that’s all. Thought you’d want to know.”
He dropped her hand, clapping his to the nape of his neck. “Ellie, I need significant facts. You must know that you can trust me with the complete truth. I’m not just your attorney, I am also your friend. Whatever happened, whatever you or your grandfather might have done, I’ll help you.”
She tilted her head, telling herself that his failure to grasp the significance of what she’d told him didn’t mean what she feared it did, but she would not directly accuse her friend. She’d told him what she’d kept back, and that was as far as she was prepared to go.
“You wanted to know what I hadn’t told you. Now you do.”
“That can’t be all there is to it. Someone
arranged
that fire.”
She waited for him to make the connection, but it gradually became obvious that he’d already come to a conclusion and it didn’t have anything to do with what she’d told him. “You suspect Grandpa and me of setting our house on fire.”