The Woman for Dusty Conrad Page 12

  Dusty’s muscles bunched, a self-protective anger beginning to stir in his stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jolie.”

  He issued an order to his feet to move, to get out of that kitchen as fast as his legs would carry him. But his muscles ignored him.

  “Don’t you?” she asked softly. “It wasn’t too long ago that I would have said the same thing. That there was no way that one thing was connected to the other. But it took Darby dropping by yesterday afternoon, and seeing how you reacted to her, to make it hit home. To finally move the clouds from in front of my eyes so I could see that Erick’s death has a lot more to do with what’s happening between us than either of us believed.”

  Dusty clenched his jaw. “You’re reaching.”

  She shook her head, her gaze steady. “I don’t think I am.”

  He opened his mouth to respond and she held her hand up to stop him. “No. Please don’t lash out and try to make this seem like some desperate attempt on my part to get you to stay, Dusty. I couldn’t handle that. Not right now. Not with everything else going on.” She bit briefly on the flesh of her bottom lip. “The fact is, I’ve accepted that our marriage is over. All that remains is crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s. You want out, I’m letting you out.”

  His heart contracted so tightly it was suddenly impossible to breathe.

  “I’m just trying to finally put all this together. To understand the whys. Until I do that…we both do that…then there’s really no closure, is there? Even long after you’ve gone, there will always be that mysterious something hanging over both our heads. That question looming between us, no matter where we are physically.”

  “Maybe you’ll have questions. I have none.”

  She openly flinched, her pain at his remark evident. “If that’s so true then why…why did you kiss me yesterday morning? Why did you…make love to me?”

  Her point hit home as accurately as a poison-tipped arrow.

  She made a small sound in her throat. “Let me guess. You’re putting it down as hormones run amok. As your having gone without sex for so long that it was only natural that you were drawn to me. Or how about this. You wanted one last time to remember me by. Or, worse yet, you wanted to give me something to remember.”

  Dusty had his jawed clenched together so tightly he couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to.

  She tilted her head slightly, her gaze solidly fastened on his face. “You know what I’m beginning to think? It’s none of the above. What happened yesterday neither one of us expected. And while, yes, it’s probably easier, maybe even wiser, to pretend it never happened, the fact is that it did. And I think we owe it to each other, to ourselves, to find the reason before we say goodbye to…us forever.”

  Dusty rubbed his jaw. “And if the reason is just momentary lust?”

  She lifted her chin in that stubborn way that made him want to kiss her all over again. “Then at least we’ll know the truth.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we do have to take a closer look at things.”

  She cleared her throat. “Including Erick?”

  An image of his brother’s stiff, unmoving body lying at the funeral home flashed across his mind, followed quickly by the image of Jolie lying in that hospital bed, as still and as white as snow. “No.”

  He stalked from the room, but rather than going into the living room as he initially planned, he headed instead for the front door. The instant he was standing on the porch, he dragged in huge lungfuls of the crisp, cool night air, but nothing could clear the turmoil from his mind and heart.

  Dusty carefully positioned the last square of cobalt-blue porcelain tile on the base of the Jacuzzi, shifting it into place, then wiping the mortar away. When he’d returned to the house, he found Jolie asleep on the couch, the television flickering in front of her. Her upright position told him she’d probably been waiting for him. Likely to discuss those things she’d outlined in the kitchen earlier. But rather than waking her, he pulled the stadium blanket from the back of the recliner and covered her with it, then disappeared upstairs to the master bathroom, doing those things that wouldn’t disturb Jolie or Ellie.

  Now, three hours later, he’d finished tiling the base of the tub, and spots were dancing in front of his eyes from two nights of very little sleep and a whole load of questions.

  He pushed back onto his heels then stood, stepping to wash his hands in the new sink. He caught sight of himself in the white-edged oval mirror and ran his damp fingers over his hair. He looked like hell. Worse, he felt like hell. And the damnable thing about it was that he didn’t see any clear-cut way out of it.

  He recognized that one of the reasons he’d been so upset earlier was because Jolie was right. There was too much unfinished business, too many unanswered questions looming between them, for them to just turn their backs on each other, on their marriage, and continue on to another life.

  Of course, Jolie usually was right. Which further agitated him. Not because he begrudged her her insight. No. Rather it made him see how much he’d been hiding from her. Hiding from even himself.

  He turned back to the work area, scraping the excess cement mortar from the old plastic bowl with the trowel and tossing it into the garbage, then cleaning up, the process of rubbing the adhesive from the newly positioned tile somewhat calming.

  Jolie was also right in that they’d never really discussed Erick’s death beyond the obvious. He could say it was because of all that was going on at the time. Jolie’s own injuries. His decision to quit the department. But now that Jolie had shone the spotlight directly on him, it wasn’t so easy to lie to himself. Truthfully, he hadn’t been able to talk about Erick then. To discuss what he’d felt. To explore what impact losing his brother had had on his life.

  And he wasn’t at all certain if he could do so now.

  When he’d left the house earlier, he’d done so with no set destination. He’d climbed into his truck and just driven. But when he’d found himself on the road leading out to his brother’s…to Darby’s ranch outside of town, he’d decided that maybe his sister-in-law could give him the insight he was looking for. He’d pulled up the long, winding gravel drive and found Darby sitting on the front porch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the cold, the twins asleep inside the house.

  For an hour they’d talked about everything but what was happening between him and Jolie. The twins’ school woes. The myriad animals that inhabited the ranch and kept being added to. Dusty had just been about to ask Darby about Erick, about how his dying had affected her, when the sheriff’s car pulled up behind his truck. John Sparks had been on his way home, spotted Dusty and decided to stop and say hello.

  The hello had lasted another hour before Dusty decided to head back into town.

  Now, as he finished his clean-up, he tossed the cloth he’d used aside, then rose to his feet and stepped to the door. There was nothing more he could do without using a power drill, a hammer or a saw. And considering that they’d had such a difficult time getting Ellie to drop off to sleep, he decided to call it quits for the night.

  He switched off the light in the bath, then crossed the dark bedroom floor, his footsteps muffled by the carpeting, refusing to look at the bed he and Jolie had once shared to see if she’d made it up. Instead, he went downstairs. And found her in exactly the same spot he had when he’d returned from Darby’s.

  For long moments he stood there admiring her. Taking in the soft way her light brown hair lay against her cheek. The proud jut of her chin, even in sleep. The quiet sound of her breathing.

  “Oh, Jolie, what happened to us,” he murmured.

  He moved closer to her, to straighten the blanket that had shifted and now lay around her waist. As he did, he noticed that something had changed since he’d first spotted her sitting there asleep. He frowned and moved even closer, noticing the fresh tracks of tears down her creamy skin, her damp, spiky lashes revealing that Ellie wasn’t the only
one haunted by demons he could never hope to understand.

  Jolie had always been one to put herself on the line, physically, in her career as a firefighter, and emotionally, as she did now by taking in a damaged little girl who would inevitably bring raw memories of her own rushing back. It’s what he loved about her. It’s what he hated about her. And it’s what ceaselessly drew him to her like a fascinated fly into her mysterious, silken web. He wanted to understand her. To study her. To be like her. He remembered once thinking that Jolie Calbert personified the definition of a true hero.

  How could a person be so selfless? Be willing to risk so much and at the same time sacrifice everything for others? He’d looked for the same qualities in himself and had come up empty. Yes, he’d fought fires. But he’d done so more for the adrenaline rush, the sheer thrill of fighting the monster, than for the need to help others. Oh, saving someone was unlike any other emotion, but it hadn’t been what had driven him.

  Then there was Jolie, whose every deed seemed dictated by some impossible, fathomless desire to help others. Even at the expense of herself. Even at the expense of their marriage.

  Before he could question the action, he quietly lifted the blanket and slid to sit on the sofa, then gently shifted her so that she lay against his side. Automatically, she curled in closer, making a soft humming sound in her sleep.

  Dusty’s chest filled with a pervasive warmth as he curved a hand down her back and pulled her even closer. They’d always seemed to fit so well together. He remembered thinking that the first time he’d held her. It had been their third date and they’d spent the evening at the county fair, sharing barbecue ribs, standing in line for the rides, rocking the Ferris wheel car until Jolie finally begged for mercy. Then he’d taken her home to her grandfather’s house. It was there on the front step that he’d been unable to stop himself from kissing her. And, oh, how good she had tasted. Like pink cotton candy, saltwater taffy and one-hundred-percent woman. And just like now, she had curved against him. Her breasts pressing against his chest. Her chin against his collarbone. In that one moment he’d felt as if he’d found home for the first time.

  Jolie moved, tucking her head beneath his chin so that her sweet hair teased his nose with its freshly washed scent. It was at times like these that he could almost forget about the problems that existed between them. Convince himself that there were so many things right, there couldn’t possibly be enough wrong to warrant his leaving.

  Almost.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. But he didn’t want to think about that. Not right now. He merely wanted to feel the heat of Jolie’s body against his, listen to the soft sounds of her sleeping, and remember what it was like to just be.

  Chapter 11

  Jolie slowly became aware of the sound of a distant meow. She wrinkled her nose and burrowed into the covers, feeling toasty and warm and safe. But she and Dusty didn’t have a cat, she thought. Must be the neighbor’s, she rationalized.

  A dull pain shot up her neck and she winced. Now, why…Then she realized that she wasn’t in a prone position, lying in the comfort of her bed. And of course she and Dusty didn’t have a cat. She didn’t even have Dusty anymore.

  She frowned. Then why did she feel him against her side, warm and hard?

  The sound of meowing became louder. Jolie popped open her eyes, becoming aware of two more things simultaneously. That she and Dusty must have slept together on the couch overnight. And that Ellie had awakened before either of them and was standing there watching them, Spot clutched tightly in her arms.

  “What? What is it?” Dusty asked, abruptly awakening, as well.

  Jolie braced her hand against his chest and pushed herself up to a sitting position. “I think it’s morning.” She swallowed and smiled at the long-faced little girl. “Hi, Ellie. Have you been waiting long?”

  At first there was no response. Then she slowly shook her head.

  “I’m glad.” Jolie made sure her shirt and jeans were fastened, then tried to fix her hair. “My, we must have fallen asleep watching television.”

  Dusty stretched next to her and chuckled. She resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

  “Have you ever done that, Ellie? Fallen asleep while watching a show or a movie?”

  This time she nodded.

  Which was a good sign. Wasn’t it? Jolie couldn’t seem to think straight, her head was crowded with sleep, her eyes blinded by the bright morning sunlight shining through the window. Of course, Ellie hadn’t actually spoken since Nancy dropped her off yesterday. In fact, she hadn’t said a single, solitary word since Jolie had found her hiding behind the pillows on her bed yesterday. But that was normal, wasn’t it?

  Spot meowed again and Jolie blinked, bringing the black-and-white scrap of fur into focus. She instantly discovered the cause for the noise. Ellie wasn’t so much as holding the cat as she was crushing her.

  Jolie began to reach out, then took her hand back.

  Next to her, Dusty sat up. “Good morning, Ellie.” He grinned at her in a way that warmed Jolie’s heart. “Good morning, Spot.” He reached out. “May I?” he asked Ellie, indicating he wanted to take the cat. “I’d like to give Spot a little morning cuddle, as well.”

  The girl began to back away, then seemed to change her mind and awkwardly started to hold the feline out. Dusty swooped the cat up. “Hey, there, Spotster. Did you sleep well?” He scratched the cat under her chin and instantly the meows turned to purring. Jolie watched Ellie watching Dusty. “Are you hungry? I know I sure am.”

  Jolie glanced at her watch. It was just a little past seven and she knew an instant of panic. Until she realized today was her regular day off. “Hmm, what sounds better to you? Eggs and bacon? Or pancakes and sausage?”

  Ellie didn’t say anything. She glanced at Dusty, who was putting down Spot out of Ellie’s reach. Immediately the cat scampered on toward the kitchen, as if aware of the conversation and determined to be first in line for some grub.

  Jolie hummed. “Then again, I think we have some good old cornflakes in the cupboard.”

  “Pancakes,” Ellie said quietly.

  Jolie smiled at her. “Well, then. I guess pancakes it is, then.”

  There was a brief knock at the door, then the sound of the knob being jimmied. Jolie raised her brows, keeping eye contact with the girl. “Well, who do you suppose that is so early? And do you think they want some pancakes, too?”

  She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw Ellie’s deep blue eyes light up. If only briefly.

  Jolie pushed from the couch and started for the door even as Dusty led Ellie toward the kitchen. She looked through the side window, immediately spotting Mrs. Noonan from across the street.

  Jolie briefly closed her eyes. No. She really couldn’t deal with the busybody right now.

  Pushing aside the desire to pretend she was still asleep and not answer the door, she instead opened it and caught Mrs. Noonan leaning over in an effort to peep through the window.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Noonan.”

  “Oh, Lordy, you startled me, Jolie.”

  She noticed that the older woman held something in her hands and openly considered it.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were up yet. You know, seeing as you had such a late night and all.”

  “I’m up,” Jolie reassured her, deciding not to comment on or think about how exactly the older woman knew how late they’d been up and wonder if Mrs. Noonan slept for fear of missing something in the neighborhood.

  Mrs. Noonan looked as if she was waiting to be invited in, but Jolie purposefully kept the door open to only show herself. “Is there something you wanted, Mrs. Noonan?”

  “Wanted? Oh, yes.” She held up the foil-covered dish in her hands, then leaned forward and whispered, “I heard about little Eleanor Johansen being dropped off here yesterday. Awfully nice of you and Dusty to agree to look after her. Awfully nice.” She thrust the plate toward her. “I just thought that with so much on your h
ands, that maybe I’d bring something over to help you, you know, foodwise.”

  “That’s kind of you, Mrs. Noonan,” Jolie murmured. And it was kind of her. She felt more than a tad guilty as she peeked under the foil to see a heaping pile of homemade doughnuts.

  “I put colored sprinkles on a few. You know, for the little one.”

  Jolie smiled. “I’m sure she’ll like that.”

  Mrs. Noonan stood quietly, putting Jolie decisively on the spot.

  Jolie cleared her throat. “Um…we were just getting ready to make some pancakes, Mrs. Noonan. Would you like to join us?”

  No matter how neighborly the invitation, Jolie found herself cringing. She opened the door in anticipation of Mrs. Noonan saying something along the lines of “Don’t mind if I do,” then tramping inside.

  Instead, she smiled and shook her head. “That’s kind of you, Jolie, but I’ve already eaten.” She gestured toward the doughnuts. “You all have a nice breakfast. Oh, and let me know if you need anything, ya hear?”

  Her brows high on her forehead, Jolie stared after the older woman as she made her way back across the street, then disappeared into her house.

  Shaking her head, she closed the door and went into the kitchen to show the gift to Dusty and Ellie. She removed the foil and placed the antique china plate on the kitchen table, indicating that Ellie should choose whichever one she’d like. She immediately picked the one with the most colored sprinkles.

  Jolie smiled as Dusty placed a glass of milk in front of the little girl. “I’ve already started the pancakes. Why don’t you go ahead and catch a shower. I’ll take one after.”

  Jolie glanced around him, finding that he had indeed taken the mix out and was in the middle of measuring the ingredients. “Okay,” she said slowly.

  Throughout her shower, and breakfast, and the better part of the morning, which included a visit from the child psychologist Nancy had promised, Jolie felt oddly out of sorts. It was the first time in what seemed like forever that she had something else to focus on aside from her own problems. But no matter how hard she tried, or how charming Dusty was, neither of them could seem to draw more from Ellie than a nod or a shake. And the way Spot continued to hang out at the house was…unnerving, to say the least. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the canny feline thought she was needed and was determined to hang around until she felt differently.