The Rescuer. Ellen James

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СКАЧАТЬ who belongs in these mountains,” she said. “They’re ominous and gorgeous all at once.”

      “Ominous...and gorgeous,” he said in a doubtful tone. “Is that what you think of me?”

      She regretted her choice of words. She did think he was gorgeous, but there’d been no reason to say so.

      “I wish you’d tell me where we’re going,” she said.

      “Don’t you like surprises, Alex? Me, I can’t stand previews. I prefer the unexpected.” He took the winding road expertly, driving a little on the fast side but always in control.

      “You really are the Type R male,” she told him.

      “Lord, not that again.”

      “That’s what I’m here for, remember? The Type R usually knows just how far he can go. He pushes a situation right to the edge but knows when to draw back. Of course,” she said reflectively, “according to your boss, you don’t always know.”

      “Alex, we’re on a date, remember?”

      “No date,” she said. “Just dinner.”

      He downshifted for a curve in the road, and then the Jeep surged forward again. The road took them to the very top of the mountain.

      Colin turned into a gravel parking lot and came to a stop in front of a large log building. He frowned. “What the heck...?”

      “Something unexpected?” Alex asked.

      “I’ll say. There used to be a fancy restaurant here. The kind of place you’d bring a date to when you wanted to impress her.”

      They got out of the Jeep and approached the rustic building. Rock music blasted from within, and a sign over the door read simply, The Pub.

      “Give me a break,” Colin said.

      Alex hooked her arm through his. “Lighten up. We’re welcoming surprises...remember?”

      “What has you in such a good mood?” he grumbled.

      “Finding out that the Type R man is like the rest of us. Now and then he likes things to be predictable, too.”

      Colin looked disgruntled, but they went inside. The air was murky; the decor consisted of roughhewn tables and chairs, a jukebox and a cramped bar. The place was crowded with people who appeared to have an average age of twenty-one.

      Alex led the way to one of the few empty tables by the window, and she and Colin sat across from each other. The music from the loudspeakers blared right above them.

      Colin got up and went to the jukebox. He dropped in a few coins, punched a few buttons. The loudspeaker cut out as the jukebox took over. Early 1960s rock replaced the 1990s variety.

      Colin sat down again and picked up the menu in front of him. “The roast beef sandwich doesn’t sound so bad.”

      “I’m starving,” Alex pronounced. “I’ll eat anything.”

      Surprisingly the food turned out to be delicious. The sandwiches were on thick, crusty bread and came with crisp onion rings and fresh alfalfa sprouts. The beer was imported and served in frosty glasses.

      Colin settled back in his seat. “Want to tell me about it?” he asked.

      “About what?” she murmured idly.

      “About what happened yesterday at my grandfather’s house. About what had you so scared.”

      “You really know how to ruin a good mood,” she complained. “I suppose you brought me up here just so you could grill me about—”

      “Hey, I’m not the shrink here. But I can tell when somebody’s bothered about something.” He frowned. “Take my son, for instance. I know he’s unhappy. Not that I know why—since he isn’t exactly forthcoming. Then again, neither are you, Alex.”

      She stared down at the table, running her fingers across the rough surface. She could pretend nothing was wrong or she could tell the truth. Unfortunately she didn’t really know what the truth was.

      “Colin,” she said reluctantly at last. “I wish I understood it myself. Ever since I first saw that video...I’ve had a reaction that I can’t explain. There’s something about that fire, and something about you. Something disturbing, maybe even frightening.” She waved a hand in frustration. “But when I try to figure out what it is...it’s like fighting my way through fog. I can’t see anything. All I have are feelings, and murky ones at that. You and I never even met until I came to Sobriety. So what is it about you and that video that makes me so uneasy?”

      Colin looked thoughtful. “If a patient came to you with this, what would you do?”

      She sighed. “I’d try to find out if the uneasiness was linked to something in the patient’s past. But, Colin—that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. I’ve been looking into my past and searching for some connection. I just don’t see any! I’ve had such an ordinary, uneventful life.”

      “Nobody’s life is really uneventful,” he remarked. “I don’t need a shrink to tell me that.”

      She gave him an exasperated glance. “Here are the facts. I grew up in Montana. My father died of heart disease when I was six years old. My mother had a difficult time afterward, but she managed to raise me single-handedly. When I was eighteen, I went off to Chicago for college. I got my degree, went to graduate school, got married...and now the divorce. That’s it. I know your next question, of course. Could I be repressing some memory that gets triggered by that damn video, by you. Well, anything’s possible, I suppose. But like I’ve said, my life has been ordinary. There’s absolutely nothing in my background to indicate hidden traumas or such.”

      Colin drank his beer. “What would you tell a patient who said something like that?”

      The man truly was aggravating. “Oh, all right. I’d say that even the most innocent-looking life can hold secrets...but, dammit, that doesn’t mean my life has secrets.”

      He didn’t answer, just gazed at her steadily. It was worse than if he’d tried to argue with her. Fortunately, her dessert arrived just then, giving her something else to focus on. Unfortunately by now she was too keyed up to enjoy the piece of peach pie as she ought.

      Now she felt a sadness inside that was becoming all too familiar. She stared out the window, hoping Colin wouldn’t notice.

      “You might as well talk about it,” he said.

      “Just that divorce is rotten.”

      “Even more rotten than a marriage gone bad?” he asked.

      She ate a bite of peach pie. “The waste of it is what I hate most,” she said. “You try so hard to build something, to make it work. All those years...and then it’s over. All for nothing.”

      “Sort of like an investment that didn’t pan out,” Colin suggested.

      Alex shook her head. “That sounds too cold and logical. Marriage and divorce aren’t СКАЧАТЬ