The Rescuer. Ellen James

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СКАЧАТЬ either of them had known how to make it happen...

      The sense of failure was so strong this time that she had to pull over to the curb for a moment. She sat there in her rental car, staring out the windshield. The couple on the sidewalk passed, the woman with her arms still crossed, striding just ahead of the man. Alex’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. A man and a woman out of step. That was how she and Jonathan had been...always out of step.

      Now, after eight years of marriage, it was almost over—the divorce almost final. Eight years gone, with nothing left but inadequacy and heartbreak. Alex felt as though there was a soreness inside her that would never heal. She’d loved Jonathan... seemingly desperately at times. And surely he’d loved her. So how was it that they’d both failed so utterly?

      Alex laughed humorlessly. The irony was too painful. Dr. Alexandra Robbins, psychologist... mender of other people’s emotional blights, yet totally unable to mend her own. At least she had one consolation—no one was likely to recognize her here in the northern reaches of Idaho. Unlike Chicago. After appearing on a few local talk shows last year, she’d suddenly had complete strangers coming up to her, asking for advice. What would those people say if they knew the disaster of her personal life?

      She restarted the car and pulled away from the curb. These past few difficult months, one thing alone had kept her going—her research. It had given her an excuse to stay late at the office instead of going home to an empty house. It had kept her thoughts on rescuers... instead of the marriage she hadn’t been able to save.

      But then she’d received the video of Colin McIntyre, and suddenly her research was no longer an uncomplicated refuge from the realities of life. Every time she watched that video something disturbing happened to her. She’d see the image of flames burning orange-red on the screen, and her heart would pound uncomfortably. Then the camera would swing down, focusing on Colin’s face...grim, angry, soot-covered. Alex would stare into the clear, startling blue of his eyes, and her heart would pound all the more, an unfamiliar anxiety washing over her.

      It didn’t make any sense at all. Why would an image on a television screen affect her that way? Alex had learned that Colin belonged to an elite emergency services team in California, trained in mountain search-and-rescue, helicopter evac, earthquake relief—in short, just about any type of rescue required. She was convinced he’d give her study the spark of life it needed. Yet something warned her to stay away from him. Something dark and confusing, and almost frightening...

      “What is it?” she whispered. “What’s wrong with me?”

      She hated unanswered questions. Maybe that was why, at this very minute, she was on her way to find Colin McIntyre.

      After turning down another street, she parked in front of a quaint old house built of honey-colored stone, with a green-shingle roof that looked like thatch in need of mowing. Alex got out of her car and went up the walk. Learning that Colin’s grandfather lived here hadn’t been all that difficult after Alex discovered the citizens of Sobriety liked to chat about one another. That was why it had been so easy to find Colin at Maggie’s Diner earlier today. Now she climbed the steps of the porch and lifted the old-fashioned brass knocker. After a moment the door swung open, and a shaggy white terrier came shooting out.

      “Oh, hell,” said a gravelly voice from inside the house. “Grab him, will you? He knows I want to give him his medicine. Won’t let me near.”

      An elderly man appeared at the door, and Alex obligingly scooped up the little dog. It squirmed in her arms but then peered at her curiously.

      “Hey, you’re adorable, aren’t you?” she murmured.

      “He already knows that,” said the man. “Makes him think he can get away with murder.”

      Still cradling the dog, Alex examined the old man, who had shaggy white hair of his own. He was unmistakably Colin’s grandfather—the clear, intense blue eyes were exactly the same. So, too, was the straightforward, no-nonsense manner.

      “Bring him along, will you. He answers to Dusty,” said Herb McIntyre, obviously not concemed about other introductions.

      Alex followed him down a hall and into a spacious kitchen with porcelain sinks, checkerboard tile and an honest-to-goodness wood-burning stove.

      “Sit down,” said Herb.

      Alex sat the dog in her lap. Herb approached with a pill in hand. Dusty buried his head stubbornly.

      “Maybe you should disguise the pill,” Alex said. “You know, hide it in some food.”

      “Tried that,” said Herb. “Too smart—he knows. Just eats around it. Now, think you can hold his mouth open while I pop it in?”

      “Well...” Alex began doubtfully.

      And just then Colin McIntyre appeared. He was tall, as she’d thought, and seemed to fill the doorway. Right now he was gazing at her with something she could only call disfavor.

      “So,” he said. “You and Herb have met.”

      “Of course we have,” said the old man. “From the look of her, she’s that pretty psychologist Denise told me about, the one you had breakfast with this morning.”

      “In case you hadn’t noticed,” Colin told Alex, “news travels fast in Sobriety.”

      She nodded, unable to say anything at the moment.

      “Have to get this damn medicine down somehow,” Herb said. “Vet’s orders.”

      “Maybe he just needs a little distraction,” Colin suggested.

      He pulled up a chair next to Alex. Their knees brushed as he petted the little terrier. Odd that he had such powerfully built hands, yet they could be so gentle...

      Dusty was enjoying all the attention, and he relaxed enough for a pink tongue to loll out. Herb popped the pill in, and Colin held the dog’s jaw shut, forcing him to swallow. Now Dusty got an offended look and hopped down from Alex’s lap.

      “Done,” said Herb.

      A silence descended. Herb glanced from Colin to Alex. “Well,” he said. “Guess you want me out of here. From what Denise says, you two have things to talk about. Come on, boy.” He left the kitchen, the little dog trotting after him.

      Alex and Colin were still sitting knee to knee. She pushed her chair back awkwardly.

      “Mr. McIntyre—”

      “Colin, remember?”

      “Right. Colin.” She felt foolish, didn’t know why, and that just made her feel more out of sorts.

      He stood, took a mug from the cabinet and set it on the table. Then he opened a tin, pulled out a tea bag and filled a kettle with water. He placed it on a gas oven that looked too modern next to the lumbering wood-burning stove.

      “Funny, but you don’t strike me as the domestic type,” she said.

      “I can boil water. Don’t expect much else.” He turned his chair around and straddled it, resting his arms along the back.

      “You remembered that I drink tea,” she said, feeling more foolish than ever.

      “Sometimes СКАЧАТЬ