Читать книгу Down from the Mountain - Barbara Gale - Страница 11

The storm broke about thirty minutes after they left. Ellen could hear the rain pounding on the car’s roof, falling harder and growing louder as the miles flew by, while an ominous rumble of thunder trailed them. She wished David would pull over and let the storm ride itself out, but he did not, and after the embarrassing scene of their departure, she didn’t dare ask him anything.

She hadn’t been ready. She’d had just enough time to shower and dress before he’d returned. But he did give her the extra time she needed, even helped her to gather her belongings. Then he had scooped her up and bounded down the stairs, stationing her on the bottom step and ordering her not to move. A sudden cold draft had told her that he had gone outside, the distant slam of a car door said that he was loading up their gear. Then he was back, bringing the cool night air with him.

“It’s chilly outside. I’d forgotten how cool the nights were here in Montana, even in the summer.” Draping a heavy sweater over her shoulders, David thrust her cane in her hand. “I’ve put your purse in the car,” he said, his voice fading as he strode to the door.

Glowering, Ellen shrugged and let the sweater fall to the floor. “I told you I didn’t want to go.”

David came back and stood silently, looking down at the little woman trying to face off with him. A part of him admired her bravura, but only a part of him. Hands in his pockets, a frown across his face, he tried to decide what to do.

The mountain air on his clothing was sweet and moist, and Ellen thought she could almost smell the night. She could feel him towering over her, his breath ruffling her hair. Was he trying to intimidate her with his size? “Didn’t you hear me?” she snapped, with a stomp of her foot. “For the millionth time, I don’t want to go!”

“Yes, I heard you! Every time!” David told her crisply. Retrieving her sweater, he tied it tightly in place.

“But I didn’t pack enough,” she wailed. “I haven’t even got a pair of socks in my bag!”

“This country’s full of malls, and you have enough plastic in your wallet to buy out most of them!”

“You’ve been spying on me!”

“Just wanted to be sure you had your driver’s license,” he mocked.

“I don’t want to go with you!”

“Pretend.”

Ellen’s eyes filled. “I’m afraid.”

David reached out to her in a gesture meant to comfort, that surprised him no less than she. Their foreheads touching, his black waves tangled with her red curls, his voice was soothing, but insistent. “I know, Ellen. I know that you’re afraid. That’s why you must leave. But I’m the gun hired to protect you, remember?”

“You won’t. You don’t really care what happens to me. You’re just doing it for the money!”

His wide thumbs scraping away her tears, David cupped her ashen face with his large, calloused hands. His mouth didn’t quite brush hers as he searched her stricken, blind eyes and tried to promise with words what she could not read in his eyes. “Ellen Candler, nothing, but nothing, is going to happen to you! This is going to be the most boring trip of your life. I’ll be with you every moment of the day. Every move you make. You think you’re sick of me now?” he teased. “See how you feel in a week. Maybe you’re right. In a way, I’m being paid to do a job, but I’ll be good at it, don’t you worry.”

She didn’t believe him. He could tell by the way she was breathing, by the way her hands fluttered, that she was starting to panic. Cursing beneath his breath, David hurried her out into the night. Sweet Jesus, she felt so good in his arms, her delicate frame quivering while he fumbled with the handle. He practically threw her into the car and gunned the engine, to hell with the potholes that had thrown him on his way up.

He felt possessed. The minute he’d laid eyes on Ellen, he’d known she spelled trouble. Only two days and she was taking over his mind, seeping under his skin—her silly tears, her flashing temper, her shy smile. Even her damned perfume was starting to cling to his clothes. He rubbed his pitted cheek to remind himself why he couldn’t have her. Rage was the only safe thing to feel and if he tried, it wouldn’t be so hard to accomplish. All he had to do was look in the mirror.

Ellen wasn’t sure if that was a snarl she heard, but whatever it was made her burrow deeper into her seat. She knew David was deeply upset, but so much of what she said and did angered him. If only he knew how desperate she was. Desperate not to be buried by walls she herself had built and was terrified to tear down.

They drove in silence until Ellen fell asleep and David was finally able to relax. He never realized a body could curl so comfortably across a bench seat—in her sleep, she had made a pillow of his thigh—but she was such a tiny thing, come to think of it. Heading south, he drove another hour, a protective hand on her shoulder. Toward five or so, Ellen stirred and stretched.

“Hey, watch it, princess, that’s my driving arm you’re poking. Unless you want to take over the wheel,” he joked.

Blushing, Ellen rose and tried to finger-comb her hair.

“So, exactly what are the politics of teasing a blind person? Is it a no-no, or what?”

“Jokes would be a novelty.” She smiled in a sleepy haze.

“I just wanted to be sure. Wouldn’t want you to report me to the American Institute of the Blind, or worse, the Civil Liberties Union. And stop playing with your hair. You look fine, and besides—no pun intended—there’s no one here to see, except me. And I don’t count, right?”

“I suppose not,” she agreed vaguely, not wishing to quarrel. Unable to see the pain in David’s eyes. “Where are we?”

“A mile or so out of Floweree, your old hometown, didn’t you say? I’m looking for a gas station. We need to fill up and I’d guess you could use the stretch.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Great Falls, to the airport. We’re not that far.”

Waiting for Ellen to protest, David was surprised when she didn’t. He couldn’t know that Ellen had never flown before and was trying to quell a sudden rise of hysteria. But she wasn’t about to say so. She didn’t want to give him any more ammunition for the faultfinding campaign he seemed to be waging. They finished the drive to the airport in silence, but she couldn’t know how many times he glanced her way.

“Two one-way tickets to Albany, New York,” she heard him say when, having returned the rental car, they had made their way to the airport lobby. Then, with an hour to kill before boarding, David guided Ellen to a nearby restaurant that had just opened its doors. In the rosy morning light of dawn, the strain of traveling was having a pronounced effect on Ellen, and he suspected that the bombardment of strange noises on her ears was also taking its toll. Her lips were white and a web of worry lines had appeared near her eyes. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into the safety net of his arms. When a noisy lunch trolley rattled by and she buried her face in his jacket, he knew she was near the end of her rope.

“Take it easy, kid. I’m right here,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said, raising her head even while her shoulders sagged beneath his hand.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, alarmed at her pallor. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“A cup of tea is definitely in order.” She smiled wanly.

David was glad Ellen couldn’t see the waitress stare as she led them to a booth. The woman didn’t know who to stare at first, the beautiful blind girl clutching a fancy wooden cane, or her heavily cloaked companion. If she’d seen his scars, she would have positively gawked, but David’s face, when he ordered breakfast, was carefully hidden by his public persona, sunglasses and a huge felt hat. Though he had lots of hats and tons of sunglasses, his biggest regret was his inability to grow a beard. It would have been such a help, but unfortunately his scars hindered an even growth of facial hair along the right side of his face.

The couple made small talk, desultory and polite, while they waited for their order. David figured Ellen needed time to calm down, catch her breath and get her bearings. He had a hunch she didn’t get out much. And then, they both recognized a mutual cease-fire when they saw one. Besides, he could hardly believe his good fortune, sharing a table with a woman and not having to worry about his appearance.

And Ellen wasn’t just any woman, she was a goddess. The sun rising across the tarmac painted a golden spray across her porcelain face and turned her hair to a Titian halo. David felt like a kid with a box of Cracker Jack, and he’d steeled himself against the revulsion of strangers too many times not to indulge himself now. And Ellen, having no idea what he looked like, was the bonus prize. No, she didn’t know. She would never have been able to hide her knowledge from him, she was such a transparent little thing. Thank God, his father had not revealed his disfigurement. Omitting to tell Ellen about David’s horrendous scars was a gift John would never know he gave his son.

David watched though, with no small amusement, as she shredded her paper napkin all over the table. “Nervous?” he asked, covered her fluttering hands with his own.

“How can you tell?” She smiled weakly. “I keep telling myself to trust you to not leave me stranded mid-journey, but—”

“A good idea, trusting me.”

“Yes, well…” She made no effort to move her hands, savoring instead the soothing warmth they shared. She hardly needed to move her fingers to detect his rough, swollen knuckles. “You know, David,” she said as she turned his hands in hers and lightly explored his palms, “most people let me see them, through touch. Will you let me touch you sometime? Your face, I mean.”

“Hell, no!”

His vehemence surprised her. “Why not? I won’t hurt you. I just flick my fingers over your face, like I’m doing to your hands now. It helps me to form an impression of you, gives me something to work with.”

“Isn’t my lousy temper enough for you to work with?”

“You have something there,” Ellen chuckled. “But I’m serious. It’s what blind people do.”

“I’ll think about it,” David stalled, unable to come up with a reason for refusing.

“Will you? Do you promise? But you must be very handsome to be so vain,” she teased. She was on her second cup of sugary hot tea and feeling calmer.

He paused in the middle of stirring his coffee. “Handsome? Vain?”

“Are you?” she persisted.

“Am I what?”

“Handsome.”

“Lady,” he laughed harshly, “I’m as ugly as sin. Ask anyone.”

Thankfully the huge breakfast they had ordered finally arrived to distract them. The amused waitress looked askance at Ellen’s slight build, but said nothing as she placed plate after plate on their table. David didn’t say anything, either, as he watched Ellen devour two eggs, a small stack of pancakes and a glass of cold milk. He liked that her appetite was uninhibited and couldn’t help wondering if her other appetites were just as hearty.

“It must have cost my father a fortune to feed you,” he joked as he pushed his own plate aside. His clumsy attempt to make peace fell flat. Red-faced, Ellen quietly put down her fork and folded her hands. “Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I enjoyed watching you eat. Lots of women pick at their food as if it were a trial.”

“For lots of women, it may be. I didn’t think I had to worry about my weight. At least, John always used to say I didn’t. Do I?” she asked uneasily. “Was he humoring me?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

Ellen flushed. “You were the one who made that nasty remark.”

“It was a stupid thing to say. I really am sorry.”

“Okay, fine, you’re forgiven. But why is it that whenever the conversation turns the slightest bit personal, you get hostile? I only asked that question about my weight because it suddenly occurred to me that maybe your father was just being polite. I have some sense of my body, but now that we’re talking about it, I realize that the only person who ever gave me any feedback about my shape, or even my looks, was John Hartwell.” She touched her cheeks as if she were feeling them for the first time, but when she ran her fingers over her lips, David’s mouth went dry. “He told me I was beautiful, but then he would, wouldn’t he?”

“Except that he was right,” David managed to rasp.

“Beautiful is a powerful word,” Ellen retorted doubtfully.

“You forget that I have no stake in the matter.”

“Neither did John.”

“Well, you are beautiful!” he assured her, but she heard his annoyance and suddenly it was all too much.

“Never mind, David. I don’t really care what I look like, I just want to go home. Please take me home,” she begged as a tear fell.

David was beside her in a flash, sliding an arm around her waist. “Here, darling, let me guide you.” He spoke loudly for the benefit of the waitress bearing down on them with the check and shrugged sheepishly as she placed it on the table. “Newlyweds,” he explained lamely as he tossed some bills on the table.

With his firm hand plastered to Ellen’s back, he hustled them out to the gate, where their plane was beginning to board. “I have to stow our bags,” he told her.

“You mean your bags! I only had time to pack the one.”

“Whatever,” he sighed as he showed her to their seats. “Just give me your word you won’t try to escape while I try to find an empty overhead compartment.”

“Where would I go?” Ellen asked sadly.

Skeptical, David had no choice but to follow the stewardess up the aisle with his duffel bag.

Ellen slumped down in her seat in despair. This whole situation simply wasn’t going to work! David was far too mercurial, kindly one minute, autocratic the next. There must be other options. If she could just make her way home, Harry Gold would figure something out. She’d beg him, bribe him, threaten him somehow, before she spent another day like this. Her mind made up, she grabbed her cane and purse, giving silent thanks to the god of credit cards. Feeling her way along the aisle, she prayed David didn’t return too soon. People were so happy to guide her, that she was able to find her way to the exit in moments.

Where David stood, blocking her way. She recognized his distinct male smell seconds before his hands clasped her forearms.

“So much for your word,” he hissed, his lips against her ear.

Left no other choice, Ellen took a deep breath and screamed. Well, it’s what she would have done, if David hadn’t kissed her.

Kissed the breath from her body, erased every sensible thought she had, boldly kissed her smack in the doorway of a 747! And she, all she could think to do was…kiss him back! Lean into him, her body on its own wavelength, desire overwhelming, an active participant to her own seduction.

Everyone laughed and applauded, and Ellen could only imagine how charming David made them seem when finally he released her. His arm ranged around her neck, he nuzzled her hair for their audience as he led her back to their seats. But the grip in which he held her was inviolate.

“I hate you!” she swore as he fastened her seat belt.

“You hate me?” he scoffed. “Well, I can’t imagine what it would be like to kiss you, then, if you liked me even a little bit!”

“That’s something you’ll never know!”

“Won’t I?” David laughed as he tightened her belt. “Oh, my dear, never say never!” His long hands tunneling through her hair, David slowly dragged her face to his. Skimming her teeth as he ran his tongue around her lips, he knew he was taking advantage of the situation, but the taste of her was an aphrodisiac he couldn’t seem to steer clear of. When he raised his head and saw how dazed she was, he couldn’t help his satisfied smile. She wanted this, too.

Again he ducked his head, smothering her protest as he took possession of her mouth. But no sweet missive this. His hand locked around her neck, he made her a prisoner of his desire, his tongue thrusting past her teeth. When he felt her mouth soften, he knew he was not mistaken. When he lifted his head, the hot ache he felt was reflected in her wide, green eyes.

“Oh! You…you…”

“Give it a rest, Ellen!” David sternly ordered as he leaned back in his seat and gave a hard, angry tug to his own seat belt.

Crude to the end, Ellen thought in disgust. Her hands opened and closed, itching to strangle him, the edge of violence he brought her to, extraordinary. But she was still reeling from his savage kiss. She had succumbed, yes, but that was because he’d… Overwhelmed her, yes, that was it. She refused to admit to the heady sensation that his lips had aroused, although she thought about nothing else the next hour.

He didn’t seem to mind that she refused to speak to him the entire flight, not the way he buried himself in the movie after she declined his offer of headphones. He had been too angry during takeoff to notice her terror, and would have missed it now except that Ellen was chalk-white and her eyes were wide and glassy. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I’ve just never flown before.”

“Dammit, Ellen, why didn’t you tell me?”

“After the way you behaved?”

“Oh, hell! Well, how did you and Dad get to Baltimore to see Gleason?”

“We took a train. Look, don’t bother yourself now! I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

David could see by the way Ellen was trembling that she was going to be anything but fine, but he didn’t know what to do. They were already in the process of landing and would be down any minute. He supposed if she got very sick, a stewardess would have the wherewithal to help, with oxygen maybe, but he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.

“For chrissake, Ellen, do you think that in the future, when you have a problem, you could let me know?” he grumbled as he unbuckled her. Her shaking hands couldn’t even manage that.

“Why?” she hissed. “So you can practice a little kindness?” Shoving him away, she tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t support her. Luckily he caught her in time, and she made no protest until he slipped his arms beneath her knees and started to lift her.

“David, stop! I’m blind, not crippled!”

“You’re too weak to walk!”

“Please, David, put me down,” she pleaded quietly, “don’t embarrass me this way. Give me a minute and I’ll be okay.”

He hesitated, then gently set her down. “All right, then, how about if we just sit here and wait for the other passengers to disembark? Give you a little time to find your land legs.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, her relief almost palpable as his warm hand covered her cold fingers.

Thirty minutes later they were heading out of Albany in David’s dusty blue pickup truck, which he’d left in long-term parking. He could almost feel himself beginning to relax. He had hated to leave the forest preserve. He was always glad when the strange cities that cramped him were only a memory, when he drove back into the mountains, breathed in the pine-scented air and remembered why he chose to live there. But not quite yet. He had one more errand to run, an hour north of Albany, in a tiny hamlet called Queensbury, located at the foot of the Adirondack Park. He headed the truck in that direction.

“Be careful when you get out,” David advised Ellen as they pulled up to a small clapboard house. “Might be that Rafe Tellerman is my friend, but he’s also the damned laziest guy I know. He hasn’t cut the grass in years.” With a firm hold on her thin arm, David helped Ellen from the truck and guided her past a rickety screen door desperately in need of oil.

“Rafe, you home?” David bellowed.

“That you, Hartwell?” a male voice called from another room.

Ellen heard a chair scrape, but it was the sudden barking of a dog that captured her attention. Then suddenly there it was, barking ecstatically, and David was laughing—laughing!—apparently the focus of the dog’s affection. The man’s, too, judging from the way he laughed as he followed the dog into the room.

“Davey, me lad! When did you get back?”

She could almost see the smile on the man’s face, he seemed so happy to greet his friend.

“Just this morning,” she heard David answer above the dissonance of paws scraping the floor. “Down, Pansy, sit! There’s a good girl. Stay!”

“Well, it’s good to see you, ranger. And just so you know the worst right away, my mother’s madder at you than a hornet!” But the way the stranger was laughing, she guessed it wasn’t much of a threat.

“What exactly did I do to make Miss Callie angry? I haven’t been around the last few weeks.”

“That’s just it, friend. You were supposed to show up for dinner, the Friday before you left. Not only didn’t you show—oh, don’t go slapping your head for my sake!—you also neglected to let her know that your father had passed away. Glen Makker told her when she was searching for your whereabouts.”

“You’re right, I forgot. Will you tell her that I’m real sorry, that events conspired, etcetera, etcetera?”

“No thanks! That’s one you’ll have to do yourself.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“But seriously, David, we’re real sorry about your dad.”

“Thank you, Rafe.”

“How was the funeral?”

As she stood quietly in the doorway, Ellen listened to their small talk, amazed that anyone held sway over David Hartwell. She hadn’t thought about the fact that he had a life beyond the Hartwell manor, that he might have friends who loved him. Lovable was not a word she would have applied to him, not even close. Apparently he kept his rancor reserved just for her.

Lulled by the undertone of their deep male voices, Ellen was startled when Rafe discovered her. Or Pansy, rather, because the dog had ambled over to where she stood and thrust her cold nose on Ellen’s knees, causing her to lose her balance and fall.

“Pansy, no!” David shouted. Pushing Pansy aside, David kneeled down beside Ellen, awkwardly sprawled on the floor. “Are you okay?” His voice was rough with anxiety while his hands explored her, checking for bruises.

“Holy cow, David! What’s this?” Rafe’s voice was tinged with wonder as he took in Ellen’s long legs and luscious curves.

“Don’t you recognize a girl when you see one?” David asked irritably, his eyes fastened on Ellen. “I’m really, really sorry about this, Ellen. Pansy is as gentle as they come, but I should have warned you—and her. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

A blush pinked up Ellen’s cheeks as she lightly dismissed the accident. “It’s all right, David. She just startled me. I haven’t been near many dogs.”

“Seriously? I would have thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong. Not all blind people have seeing-eye dogs, silly. Or else I’ve misplaced mine, hmm?”

“Very funny. I’m laughing all over the place,” he muttered, rising to his feet with Ellen in tow.

“So am I,” chuckled Rafe, nursing his surprise. “You didn’t mention you’d brought company.”

“Ellen’s not company, she was my father’s ward. And now she’s mine, for a couple of months. I’m taking her up to my place to stay awhile. And she’s blind,” David added bluntly, “so be careful what you say and do.”

“Ah, David Hartwell, tactful as ever,” Rafe rebuked him as he pushed his friend aside. “Don’t mind him, miss. He has the manners of a goat! My name is Rafael Tellerman and I’m David’s best friend. At your service, ma’am.”

Ellen held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Tellerman,” she said softly. “I’m Ellen Candler.”

“Ah, but you must call me Rafe. Only my students call me Mr. Tellerman—and God knows what else!”

Ellen laughed and her glow caught the men unawares. Rafe looked as though he’d gone straight to heaven, and David knew he had never seen Ellen smile quite that way before. But then, he’d never given her any reason to smile, had he?

“I take it this is your home, Rafe?”

Clasping Ellen’s hand, Rafe pressed it to his chest. “Mi casa es su casa!”

Disgusted by the nauseating display in front of him, David was quick to intervene. “We’re in Queensbury,” he explained to Ellen in a clipped voice. “Rafe’s been watching Pansy for me. Pansy is my dog. My home is in the park.”

“In the park?” Ellen asked, a little puzzled.

“I’m a forest ranger for the DEC—that’s the Department of Environmental Conservation. I thought you said my father told you.”

“He did. He told me you were a forest ranger, but he didn’t go into details.”

“So I noticed. Almost like I didn’t exist,” David muttered.

“But that’s the way you wanted it, wasn’t it?” Ellen countered cooly but David refused to be baited.

“Well, that’s what I am, lady, a forest ranger, and the territory I patrol is the Adirondack Forest Preserve just west of Indian Lake. It’s not quite as far as it sounds, and we could conceivably make it home by nightfall, if lover-boy ever lets go of your hand.”

Rafe dropped Ellen’s hand abruptly. “Sorry.” He grinned, but the tone of his voice told Ellen he wasn’t, not in the least. “Ellen, I’m a single, thirty-six-year-old college professor, and tenured, too, so I make a decent living.” He laughed, and she could hear the imp in his voice. “I didn’t want to leave the transmitting of such important information to my buddy, here. You are unattached, aren’t you?” he demanded with a sidelong glance at David.

“Of course I am.” Ellen smiled.

“Why do you say ‘of course?’”

Ellen floundered, unused to such blunt questions. “Well, for one thing I haven’t dated much.”

Rafe looked shocked. “Well, that’s one thing that’s going to change real soon, you have my word!”

“Mr. Tellerman, are you flirting with me?” Ellen asked curiously.

Gently, Rafe flicked the tip of Ellen’s nose. “Why, Miss Candler, yes, I do believe I am. Does it bother you? Do you want me to stop?”

Ellen shrugged. “I don’t know. No one ever has before.”

“I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, no. I just don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to flirt back? I haven’t a clue how to do so, if I should.”

Rafe laughed. A deep, throaty laugh that was jovial and kind and made Ellen smile when she thought she was bankrupt of laughter. “Miss Candler, you just keep doing what you do naturally and you’ll manage just fine!”

Busy adjusting Pansy’s collar, David observed all and said nothing, and when he rose to his feet, his anger was carefully masked. So that when Rafe offered to make them sandwiches for the ride home, he was able to decline with civility. If Rafe didn’t mind, they had eaten on the plane and he was in a hurry to get on the road.

“But you will be around for my mother’s Labor Day barbecue, won’t you?” Rafe insisted as he watched David leash his dog.

David shot him a layered look as he guided Ellen to the door. “I suppose if I don’t, you’ll send Miss Callie out hunting for me?”

“You can be sure of it.”

“Well, just so you don’t say I didn’t warn you, I don’t even know that I’ll be getting Labor Day off. It’s prime vacation time, you know that. The mountains are crawling with tourists already, and I don’t think Glen Makker would appreciate giving me any more time off, all things considered.”

“Yes, yes, but surely you can fit in a few hours off that day. If not, then allow me to escort Ellen. You’ll love my mother,” Rafe promised. “Everybody does, even David. He just pretends not to love anything except snakes and dogs. Miss Callie—that’s what everyone calls her, including me!—in the way of explaining things, is one of the oldest and most respected matriarchal souls in these parts, and she just also happens to put together the best barbecue in the park. Her sauce is a state secret and she shows it off at her annual Labor Day shindig. Everyone goes! Come on, David, get your act together, old buddy, and show. You’ll make him listen, Ellen, won’t you?”

“Me?” Ellen laughed incredulously. “I couldn’t make David Hartwell do a thing he didn’t want. I have absolutely no influence over him whatsoever, I assure you!”

“Oh, come on,” Rafe coaxed as he reclaimed her hand and brought it to his lips. “You could make anyone do anything. Try me!”

Ellen smiled, and before she knew it, her palm was lightly kissed. Arm-in-arm, they strolled to David’s truck, while David loaded Pansy’s supplies onto the pickup bed, right next to their luggage. Rafe laughed even more heartily at the dark look David sent him when he bundled Ellen into the passenger seat.

“Another conquest? You keeping score, I hope?” David growled as he climbed behind the wheel, having settled Pansy in the rear of the cab.

“Oh, and who was the first?” Ellen asked impudently as she fastened her seat belt.

Feeling his temperature rise, David wisely said nothing. But as he drove away he heard Rafe laugh loudly.