The Rain Sparrow

  “I guess I stand corrected.”

  Ellen was making a few corrections herself, revising some cherished ideas about Reed Morgan.

  “I don’t suppose you’d consider staying with me for the rest of the evening?” Ralph suggested hopefully.

  “Consider it? I’d say it’s the best offer I’ve had in weeks.” She might feel like a fool, but she didn’t plan to hang around looking like one.

  Ralph nudged her and bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Reed’s staring at us. And like I said, he doesn’t seem pleased.”

  With a determination born of anger and pride, she forced a smile to her lips and gazed adoringly up at Ralph. “How am I doing?” she asked, batting her lashes at him.

  “Wonderful, wonderful.” He swung her energetically around to the beat of the music. “Uh-oh, here he comes.”

  Reed weaved his way through the dancing couples and tapped Ralph on the shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”

  Ellen tightened her grip on Reed’s colleague, silently pleading with him to stay. “Sorry, buddy, but Ellen’s with me now that your lady friend has arrived.”

  “Ellen?” Reed’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her intently. The other couples were dancing around them and curiously watching the party of three that had formed in the center of the room.

  She couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone look more furious than Reed did at this moment. “Maybe I’d better leave,” she said in a low, faltering voice.

  “I’ll take you home,” Ralph offered, dropping his hand to her waist.

  “You came with me. You’ll leave with me.” Reed grasped her hand, pulling her toward him.

  “Obviously you were making provisions,” Ellen said, “on the off-chance Danielle showed up. How else did she get in here?”

  “How am I supposed to know? She probably told the manager she was with me.”

  “And apparently she is,” Ellen hissed.

  “Maybe Reed and I should wrestle to decide the winner,” Ralph suggested, glancing at Ellen and sharing a comical grin.

  “Maybe.”

  Obviously, Reed saw no humor in the situation. Anger darkened his handsome face, and a muscle twitched in his jaw as the tight rein on his patience slipped.

  Ralph withdrew his hand. “Go ahead and dance. It’s obvious you two have a lot to talk about.”

  Reed took Ellen in his arms. “I suppose you’re furious,” he muttered.

  “Have I got anything to be angry about?” she asked calmly. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she felt somewhat distanced from the whole predicament.

  “Of course you do. But I want a chance to explain.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ve got the picture.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.”

  Ellen stubbornly refused to look up at him, resisting for as long as she could, but eventually she gave in. “It doesn’t matter. Ralph said he’d take me home and—”

  “I’ve already made my feelings on that subject quite clear.”

  “Listen, Reed. Your Porsche seats two. Is Danielle supposed to sit on my lap?”

  “She came uninvited. Let her find her own way home.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I certainly do.”

  “You can’t humiliate Danielle like that.” Ellen didn’t mention how she felt. What was the point? “Don’t—”

  “She deserves it,” he broke in.

  “Reed, no.” Her hold on his forearm tightened. “This is unpleasant enough for all of us. Don’t compound it.”

  The song ended and the music faded from the room. Reed fastened his hand on Ellen’s elbow, guiding her across the floor to where Danielle was standing with Ralph. The two of them were sipping champagne.

  “Hello again,” Ellen began amicably, doing her utmost to appear friendly, trying to smooth over an already awkward situation.

  “Hello.” Danielle stared at Ellen curiously, apparently not recognizing her.

  “You remember Ellen Cunningham, don’t you?” Reed said.

  “Not that college girl your brother’s renting a room to—” Danielle stopped abruptly, shock etched on her perfect features. “You’re Ellen Cunningham?”

  “In the flesh.” Still trying to keep things light, she cocked her head toward Ralph and spoke stagily out of the side of her mouth, turning the remark into a farcical aside. “I wasn’t at my best when we met the first time.”

  “You were fiddling around with that electrical outlet and Reed was horrified,” Danielle inserted, her voice completely humorless, her eyes narrowed assessingly. “You didn’t even look like a girl.”

  “She does now.” Ralph beamed her a brilliant smile.

  “Yes.” Danielle swallowed, her face puckered with concern. “She looks very...nice.”

  “Thank you.” Ellen bowed her head.

  “I’ve made a terrible mess of things,” Danielle continued, casually handing her half-empty glass to a passing waiter. “Reed mentioned the party weeks ago, and Mom and I had this ski party planned. I told him I couldn’t attend and then I felt guilty because Reed’s been so sweet, escorting me to all the charity balls.”

  Ellen didn’t hear a word of explanation beyond the fact that Reed had originally asked Danielle to the party. The other woman had just confirmed Ellen’s suspicions, and the hurt went through her like a thousand needles. He’d invited her only because Danielle couldn’t attend.

  “There’s no problem,” Ellen said in a bland voice. “I understand how these things happen. He asked you first, so you stay and I’ll leave.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” Danielle murmured.

  Reed’s eyes were saying the same thing. Ellen ignored him, and she ignored Danielle. Slipping her hand around Ralph’s arm, she looked up at him and smiled, silently thanking him for being her friend. “As I said, it’s not a problem. Ralph’s already offered to take me home.”

  Reed’s expression was impassive, almost aloof, as she turned toward him. “I’m sure you won’t mind.”

  “How understanding of you,” Danielle simpered, locking her arm around Reed’s.

  “It’s better than hand-to-hand combat. I don’t really care for fighting.”

  Danielle looked puzzled, while Ralph choked on a swallow of his drink, his face turning several shades of red as he struggled to hide his amusement. The only one who revealed no sense of humor was Reed, whose face grew more and more shadowed.

  The band struck up a lively song and the dance floor quickly filled. “Come on, Reed,” Danielle said, her blue eyes eager. “Let’s dance.” She tugged at Reed’s hand and gave a little wriggle of her hips. “You know how much I love to dance.”

  So Reed had done his share of dancing with Danielle—probably at all those charity balls she’d mentioned. Ellen had guessed as much and yet he’d tried to give her the impression that he rarely danced.

  But noticing the stiff way Reed held himself now, Ellen could almost believe him.

  Ralph placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

  Watching Reed with Danielle in his arms was absurdly painful; her throat muscles constricted in an effort to hold back tears and she simply nodded.

  “Since we’ll be skipping the banquet, shall we go have dinner somewhere?”

  Ellen blinked. Dinner. “I’m not really hungry,” she said.

  “Sure you’re hungry,” Ralph insisted. “We’ll stop at a nice restaurant before I drive you home. I know where Reed’s place is, so I know where you live. Don’t look so shocked. I figured it out from what you and Danielle were saying. But don’t worry, I understand—impoverished students sharing a house and all that. So, what do you say? We’ll have a leisurely dinner and get home two hours after Reed. That should
set him thinking.”

  Ellen didn’t feel in any mood to play games at Reed’s expense. “I’d rather not.”

  Ralph’s jovial expression sobered. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He smiled. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go.”

  The night that had begun with such promise had evaporated so quickly, leaving a residue of uncertainty and suspicion. As they neared the house, her composure gradually crumbled until she was nervously twisting the delicate strap of her evening bag over and over between her fingers. To his credit, Ralph attempted to carry the conversation, but her responses became less and less animated. She just wanted to get home and bury her head in her pillow.

  By the time Ralph pulled up in front of the Capitol Hill house, they were both silent.

  “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked. The illusion she’d created earlier of flippant humor was gone now. She hurt, and every time she blinked, a picture of Danielle dancing with Reed came to mind. How easy it was to visualize the other woman’s arms around his neck, her voluptuous body pressed against his. The image tormented Ellen with every breath she took.

  “No, I think I’ll make it an early night.”

  “Thank you,” she said affectionately. “I couldn’t have handled this without you.”

  “I was happy to help. And, Ellen, if you want a shoulder to cry on, I’m available.”

  She dropped her gaze to the tightly coiled strap of her bag. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He patted her hand. “Somehow I don’t quite believe that.” Opening the car door, he came around to her side and handed her out.

  On the top step of the porch, Ellen kissed his cheek. “Thanks again.”

  “Good night, Ellen.”

  “Night.” She took out her keys and unlocked the front door. Pushing it open, she discovered that the house was oddly dark and oddly deserted. It was still relatively early and she would’ve expected the boys to be around. But not having to make excuses to them was a blessing she wasn’t about to question.

  As she removed her coat and headed for the stairs, she noticed the shadows bouncing around the darkened living room. She walked over to investigate and, two steps into the room, heard soft violin music.

  Ellen stood there paralyzed, taking in the romantic scene before her. A bottle of wine and two glasses were set out on the coffee table. A fire blazed in the brick fireplace. And the music seemed to assault her from all sides.

  “Derek,” she called out.

  Silence.

  “All right, Pat and Monte. I know you’re here somewhere.”

  Silence.

  “I’d suggest the three of you get rid of this...stuff before Reed comes home. He’s with Danielle.” With that, she marched up the stairs, uncaring if they heard her.

  “With Danielle?” she heard a male voice shout after her.

  “What happened?”

  Ellen pretended not to hear.

  * * *

  THE MORNING SUN sneaked into her window, splashing the pillow where Ellen lay awake staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Sooner or later she’d have to get out of bed, but she couldn’t see any reason to rush the process. Besides, the longer she stayed up here, the greater her chances of missing Reed. The unpleasantness of facing him wasn’t going to vanish, but she might be able to postpone it for a morning. Although she had to wonder whether Reed was any more keen on seeing her than she was on seeing him. She could always kill time by dragging out her algebra books and studying for the exam—but that was almost as distasteful as facing Reed.

  No, she decided suddenly, she’d stay in her room until she was weak with hunger. Checking her wristwatch, she figured that would be about another five minutes.

  Someone knocked on her bedroom door. Sitting up, Ellen pulled the sheet to her neck. “Who is it?” she shouted, not particularly eager to talk to anyone.

  Reed threw open the door and stalked inside. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. “Are you planning to stay up here for the rest of your life?”

  “The idea has distinct possibilities.” She glared back at him, her eyes flashing with outrage and ill humor. “By the way, you’ll note that I asked who was at the door. I didn’t say, ‘come in.’” Her voice rose to a mockingly high pitch. “You might have walked in on me when I was dressing.”

  A smile crossed his mouth. “Is that an invitation?”

  “Absolutely not.” She rose to a kneeling position, taking the sheets and blankets with her, and pointed a finger in the direction of the door. “Would you kindly leave? I’d like to get dressed.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Reed, please,” she said irritably. “I’m not in any mood to talk to you.”

  “I’m not leaving until we do.”

  “Unfair. I haven’t had my cup of tea and my mouth feels like the bottom of Puget Sound.”

  “All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

  “How generous of you.”

  “Considering my frame of mind since you walked out on me last night, I consider it pretty generous.”

  “Walked out on you!” She flew off the bed. “That’s a bit much!”

  “Ten minutes,” he repeated, his voice low.

  The whole time Ellen was dressing, she fumed. Reed had some nerve accusing her of walking out on him. He obviously didn’t have any idea what it had cost her to leave him at that party with Danielle. He was thinking only of his own feelings, showing no regard for hers. He hadn’t even acknowledged that she’d swallowed her pride to save them all from an extremely embarrassing situation.

  Four male faces met hers when she appeared in the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said with false enthusiasm.

  The three boys looked sheepishly away. “Morning,” they droned. Each found something at the table to occupy his hands. Pat, who was holding his basketball, carefully examined its grooves. Monte read the back of the cereal box and Derek folded the front page of the paper, pretending to read it.

  “Ellen and I would like a few minutes of privacy,” Reed announced, frowning at the three boys.

  Derek, Monte and Pat stood up simultaneously.

  “I don’t think there’s anything we have to say that the boys can’t hear,” she said.

  The three boys reclaimed their chairs, looking with interest first at Reed and then at Ellen.

  Reed’s scowl deepened. “Can’t you see that Ellen and I need to talk?”

  “There’s nothing to discuss,” Ellen insisted, pouring boiling water into her mug and dipping a tea bag in the water.

  “Yes, there is,” Reed countered.

  “Maybe it would be best if we did leave,” Derek hedged, noticeably uneasy with his brother’s anger and Ellen’s feigned composure.

  “You walk out of this room and there will be no packed lunches next week,” Ellen said, leaning against the counter. She threw out the bag and began sipping her tea.

  “I’m staying.” Monte crossed his arms over his chest as though preparing for a long standoff.

  Ellen knew she could count on Monte; his stomach would always take precedence. Childishly, she flashed Reed a saucy grin. He wasn’t going to bulldoze her into any confrontation.

  “Either you’re out of here now, or you won’t have a place to live next week,” Reed flared back. At Derek’s smug expression, Reed added, “And that includes you, little brother.”

  The boys exchanged shocked glances. “Sorry, Ellen,” Derek mumbled on his way out of the kitchen. “I told Michelle I’d be over in a few minutes anyway.” Without another moment’s hesitation, Reed’s brother was out the door.

  “Well?” Reed stared at Monte and Pat.

  “Yeah, well... I guess I shou
ld probably...” Pat looked to Ellen for guidance, his resolve wavering.

  “Go ahead.” She dismissed them both with a wave of her hand.

  “Are you sure you want us to go?” Monte asked anxiously.

  Ellen smiled her appreciation at this small display of mettle. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay.”

  The sound of the door swinging back and forth echoed through the kitchen. Ellen drew a deep, calming breath and turned to Reed, who didn’t look all that pleased to have her alone, although he’d gone to some lengths to arrange it. His face was pinched, and fine lines fanned out from his eyes and mouth. Either he’d had a late night or he hadn’t slept at all. Ellen decided it must have been the former.

  “Well, I’m here within ten minutes, just as you decreed. If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”

  “Don’t rush me,” he snapped.

  Ellen released an exaggerated sigh. “First you want to talk to me—and then you’re not sure. This sounds like someone who asked me to a party once. First he wanted me with him—and then he didn’t.”

  “I wanted you there last night.”

  “Oh, was I talking about you?” she asked in fake innocence.

  “You’re not making this easy.” He ploughed his fingers through his hair, the abrupt movement at odds with the self-control he usually exhibited.

  “Listen,” she breathed, casting her eyes down. “You don’t need to explain anything. I have a fairly accurate picture of what happened.”

  “I doubt that.” But he didn’t elaborate.

  “I can understand why you’d prefer Danielle’s company.”

  “I didn’t. That had to be one of the most awkward moments of my life. I wanted you—not Danielle.”

  Sure, she mused sarcastically. That was why he’d introduced her to so few people. She’d had plenty of time in the past twelve hours to think. If she hadn’t been so blinded by the stars in her eyes, she would have figured it out sooner. Reed had taken her to his company party and kept her shielded from the other guests; he hadn’t wanted her talking to his friends and colleagues. At the time, she’d assumed he wanted her all to himself. Now she understood the reason. The others knew he’d invited Danielle; they knew that Danielle usually accompanied him to these functions. The other woman had an official status in Reed’s life. Ellen didn’t.