Where Angels Tread (30 page)

“Interesting,” he murmured, arranging his features into what he sincerely hoped was an attentive expression. Secretly, he was praying that the fire alarm in Ristorante Rossi would go off, forcing everyone to leave so that he could return once more to the comforting solitude of his cabin. Perhaps it would still be early enough to take Bentley, his ten year old hound dog, for a walk through the hills and valleys that surrounded his property in the small town of Santa Ynez, California, that he called home. Under the table, Ethan slid his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

He barely noticed that his date had stopped talking, and when he brought his head up to meet her gaze, her smile had become fixed. “Am I boring you?” she asked in a stiff tone, and it was apparent from the ice in her voice that Ethan had better not agree.

“Of course not,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry, but I just realized that I completely forgot to give my dog his medicine tonight. Do you mind if we skip dessert?” It wasn’t exactly a lie, he thought defensively as he signaled for the waiter to bring the check to their table, tucked away in a quiet corner of the intimate restaurant. The bouquet of lilies draped across the tablecloth had been Hillary’s idea; she stopped by Ethan’s house as he was getting ready for the evening and thrust them into his arms.

“Give her these,” she had said, “and don’t even think about telling Kate that they came from me.” Ah, there it was, he thought as the waiter hurried over with the bill. Her name was Kate.

“Hang on,” he said, raising a finger, then fished around in the pocket of his sport coat for his leather wallet. He opened it and slid his credit card into the black check holder, then handed it to the waiter with a smile. “We’re in a bit of a hurry.” Ethan had, indeed, forgotten to give Bentley his joint supplement, which helped keep the old dog’s arthritic limbs from seizing up. It could technically wait until later, but Ethan didn’t want Bentley to suffer thanks to his own forgetfulness.

He turned back to Kate with a bright smile on his face, relieved that he would soon be able to slip into the driver’s seat of his car, crank up the radio, and erase this night, like so many others, from his memory. “Where were we?” he asked, enthusiastically cutting off a bite of his steak and rolling it in the accompanying wine sauce. Kate looked very much like she wanted to cry, or perhaps throw her fork squarely into Ethan’s face.

Ethan’s smile faltered and his stomach sank like a stone as he noticed her turn away from him to subtly dab at the corners of her eyes. Damn it, he thought fiercely. He was doing it again. Acting like a complete jerk for no reason. He supposed that unconsciously he was rebelling against the pressure he was receiving from Hillary to date again, and Kate had the misfortune of being his latest failed experiment. In his defense, he had every reason to want to lock himself away in his house and never come out again. No one understood the pain of what he had been through, and time hadn’t dulled its sharp edges. Ethan was mistrustful of women, for very good reason.

“I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing hard and reaching across the table to cover Kate’s hand with his own. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He took a deep breath. “I really wasn’t in the right mentality to start dating again, but my sister said that you were really nice and I wanted to give you a chance.” Again, he thought to himself, not technically a lie. “Apparently, I’m just not ready to put myself out there again. I hope you can understand. You’re a lovely woman, and you deserve a date who can give you his full attention. Unfortunately, I’m just not that guy.”

Kate watched him through narrowed eyes until he had finished speaking, then stood up from her chair abruptly and swung her shawl over her shoulders; the restaurant patrons at the next table stared at them through bugged-out eyes, their meals forgotten. “I don’t care what kind of baggage you have,” she hissed in a voice that carried across the room. “That doesn’t give you the right to treat me as poorly as you have been all night. You disgust me. Goodbye, Ethan.” She grabbed her purse and flounced out of the restaurant, leaving Ethan sitting alone at the table with flaming cheeks, wishing that he could sink right through the floor and never be seen again.

When the waiter returned with the receipt, he scrawled his signature across the bottom as fast as he could and hurried outside to his car, offering a silent prayer of thanks when the crisp California air filled his lungs. Ethan had felt like he was suffocating inside that restaurant, surrounded by happy couples and sitting across from a woman he didn’t care about at all. There was no reason for him to try and impress her, not when he had no intention of allowing the relationship to progress past the first date.

To an outsider, Ethan knew that he probably came off as arrogant and self-centered, toying with the emotions of an innocent woman and embarrassing her with his public display of inattention. He felt a sickening swell of shame in his stomach as he remembered the hurt expression in her eyes when he had so abruptly signaled for the check. But in reality, Ethan was still recovering—would perhaps always be recovering—from the searing pain of a broken heart.

He pictured her now—Kelly, his Kelly. Somehow he still thought of her that way, even though they had been divorced for nearly five years now and he hadn’t laid eyes on her since the day he turned and walked out of the home they shared, never to return. Ethan had been smitten with her from the moment they first met, so long ago, during study hall class in their freshman year of high school. From the time he was fourteen, Kelly had been an inextricable part of his life; it was impossible to erase her from his memories, or else he would have none left. They had become instantly inseparable; first, as best friends, and later, as a couple.

Since their divorce, Ethan had been spiraling out of control, down a dark and endless hole from which he had been unable to climb out of. He had cut himself off from everyone he knew, with the single exception of Hillary, who was his only living family member. Other than his father, that is, but Ethan never really counted him; the man had, for all intents and purposes, disappeared from his life decades ago. Since then, Ethan had only heard from him once, with the exception of a few perfunctory birthday cards in the mail, and even those had stopped when he had reached the tender age of ten.

Now an emergency room doctor by trade, Ethan had established a successful career for himself in San Francisco, but after leaving Kelly he returned to his hometown of Santa Ynez to head the small community hospital’s emergency department. He purchased a cabin for himself on the very outskirts of town set deep into the canyon roads, which he regularly disappeared into for long walks with Bentley, to try and forget about the past that was always looming darkly in the back of his mind.

*

“Bentley,” he called fifteen minutes later, loosening the tie around his neck and clapping his hands together. “Come here, boy.” The sound of scuffling filled the hallway, and the old dog, still so full of energy, skittered around the corner to greet Ethan. Bentley flopped onto his back at Ethan’s feet and stuck his paws up in the air, and Ethan dropped to his knees to rub the dog’s graying belly. “I missed you,” he whispered into Bentley’s floppy ears; the dog thumped his tail on the floor merrily and offered Ethan a very humanlike grin.

Ethan glanced around for the tennis ball that was always within arm’s reach, and tossed it down the hallway. Bentley clambered to his feet and scurried after it. A surprise from Kelly for Ethan’s twenty-fifth birthday, man and dog had become the very best of friends. Bentley was the only remnant of his past life that Ethan brought with him after the divorce other than the clothes on his back; leaving Bentley behind was, of course, not an option.

Ethan tossed the ball a few more times before Bentley tired of the game, plopping down on his favorite plush rug in front of the fireplace with his tongue lolling on the floor. Kicking off his shoes, Ethan sank down to the ground to join his dog, petting him absentmindedly and reflecting on his disastrous date. Away from the flickering of the candlelight and the soft music humming through the restaurant’s speaker system, Ethan felt acutely aware of how rude his behavior had been. Sure, he hadn’t wanted to go out on the date, but that certainly wasn’t Kate’s fault. The least he could have done was treat her with the respect that she deserved.

He was a mess, and he knew it. It may have been five years since the divorce, but Kelly’s betrayal had cut him so deeply that he didn’t know if he would ever recover, let alone muster up the courage to begin dating again. Right now, Ethan would prefer to be alone forever than open himself up to trusting someone with his heart. He hadn’t been the only one to mourn Kelly’s absence in his life; after he moved to Santa Ynez, Bentley spent the next month wandering around the cabin and howling disconsolately. Every night, the dog placed his eager head on Kelly’s side of the bed, hoping that she would be there; when he saw that it was cold and empty, he would sigh heavily and retreat from the room.

Ethan’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached down to check the caller ID. He groaned out loud when he saw that it was Hillary, and debated for a few seconds whether he really wanted to listen to her scolding when she found out how awful the date had been. Ethan knew that his older sister meant well; growing up, she had always done her best to watch out for him, despite being just a kid herself. After their mother died, Hillary had dropped out of college to take care of Ethan, putting her own dreams on hold in order to earn enough money to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs.

Deciding to let the call go to voicemail, Ethan tossed the phone across the room onto the couch and lay back on the ground with his hands linked behind his head. Outside, he could hear the soft hooting of an owl in the branches of the maple tree that towered over his cozy cabin. When Ethan left San Francisco, he had no idea where he was headed; all he knew was that he needed to start a new life, far away from the demons of his past. It had been dumb luck that he found the cabin that he now called home, tucked away at the edge of the town. His closest neighbor was half a mile down the road, and Ethan knew that if he glanced outside his window now, he would be surrounded by nothing but darkness.

It was the perfect place for a man like Ethan, who had been too hurt by the curveballs life had thrown him to care about anything other than his solitude. He was an island, a man alone.

Jaime Kensington was running late. She sprinted through her apartment, tearing clothes out of her closet and rummaging under the bed for a matching pair of shoes. As she caught sight of her runny nose and red-rimmed eyes in the mirror above her vanity, she groaned out loud and splashed water on her face. The last thing she needed right now was to explain to her family why she had spent the entire morning curled up in a ball on the couch, sobbing uncontrollably over a silly talk show airing on television.

Today would hopefully be a cause for celebration; every member of the Kensington family who lived in town was going down to the courthouse to support Shane, Jaime’s oldest brother, as the jury announced whether the man responsible for shooting him a few months earlier would be sentenced to life in prison. Jaime knew that she needed to compose herself before showing her face to the rest of her family; they would only fret over her, and Shane deserved to have his day of triumph uninterrupted by her own drama. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, Jaime dragged a comb through her long brown hair as fast as she could and twisted it into a barrette at the back of her head.

After throwing one last filthy glare at the television set, now gaping blankly at her, Jaime shoved her arms into her gray blazer and headed for the front door. As she gave a hearty sniff and reached for a tissue in her purse, Jaime cursed herself for being stupid enough to watch that particular program, which today had featured the toothy host grinning in satisfaction as she arranged for surprise reunions between parents and children who had lost touch with each other over the years. Jaime, however, didn’t find it the least bit heartwarming; on the contrary, all the show did was dredge up memories that had long haunted her. Mistakes she had made, the kind that could never be undone.

Jaime hurried out to her car, tripping over her high heels in the process, and revved the engine to life. She was supposed to pick up Shane on the way down to court, and he had expected her five minutes ago. Pressing down on the gas pedal, Jaime sped onto the highway for the short drive to the house that Shane shared with his girlfriend Heidi and her young son.

“Where were you?” Shane demanded a few minutes later as he limped over to her car, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Shane, a police officer, was shot in the line of duty; while the doctors were confident that he would eventually regain full use of his leg and hip, he was currently undergoing a rigorous physical therapy routine. Since Heidi worked odd hours as an emergency room nurse at Saint Andrew’s Hospital, Jaime regularly offered to drive Shane to his appointments.

“Sorry,” Jaime said, reaching over to push open his car door. “I overslept.” She cringed as the lie slipped out of her mouth so easily, and it wasn’t even believable, at that. Jaime, a stickler for punctuality, could not remember for the life of her one time where she had overslept; she set three alarm clocks every night to make absolutely certain that it never happened. Shane threw her a confused look, then shrugged and sank back into the passenger seat, resting his head on the cushion and staring at the ceiling. “Are you nervous?” Jaime grasped her brother’s hand briefly in her own.