Читать книгу Down from the Mountain - Barbara Gale, Barbara Gale - Страница 12

The final hour they drove in deadly silence gave David plenty of time to simmer. Ellen kept quiet, refusing to be goaded into the fight she could feel David itching to start.

“Am I getting the silent treatment?” he demanded into the hush that filled the car as they headed toward the outskirts of Longacre. “If I am, I hate to disappoint you, lady, but the silence suits me fine. It’s what I’m used to.”

The bitterness in David’s voice came as a surprise to Ellen. It was disturbing, and she found herself wanting to make peace, but David quickly sensed the change of atmosphere. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want your pity!”

“My pity?” Ellen repeated, astonished at the accusation. “What on earth are you talking about? Why should I pity you? Honestly, David, I just don’t understand you!”

David cursed himself for a fool but refused to explain. “You don’t have to,” he snapped. “It’s not part of the deal.”

What a jerk she must think him, he sighed as he took the last stretch of road. Well, he certainly did his best to behave like one. It wasn’t too difficult, though. The minute he’d laid eyes on her, he knew his life was going to become complicated. Her blindness notwithstanding, even Rafe had fallen under her spell. Well, not him! He’d been around the block, knew a whole lot about handicaps, even if she didn’t think he did. All those years spent in hospitals, trying to have his face reconstructed, hadn’t left him an easy touch! It took a lot to get his sympathy. Not that she tried, he had to admit as he glanced at the figure huddled against the door, chewing on her lip, probably trying not to cry.

And kissing her on the plane! Damn, but that was the worst. Giving in—oh, come on, let’s be honest—losing control, was more like it! He simply couldn’t stop himself! Falling all over her the moment he got the chance, as if he was drugged or something, now that was the truth, if he really wanted to be honest.

An hour later, after being jarred at every turn along a dirt road that should have been illegal, Ellen was still wondering what it was with these Hartwell men, hiding away on mountains that were better left to bears. David hadn’t spoken nearly the entire ride, and even Pansy had been quiet, padding back and forth on the truck’s tiny back seat. Her nose out the window to growl at the wind was the only sign of life in the truck. Now she thought about it, not much had changed since Montana. They could have stayed there, for all the difference it made. Even though David had argued otherwise, he made it clear at every opportunity that she was a job he didn’t want—and she on her best behavior, for goodness’ sake! Every chance he’d got, he cut her down, made her feel small and unwanted, succeeding hugely. If she thought she was lonely in Montana, she had a feeling she was about to ascend new heights! Or was it descend new depths? Things wouldn’t be half so bad if…

Things were pretty bad, she sighed as she brushed away an unruly tear. Was this how it was going to be, the next few months—a vacuum of sight and sound? She would have liked to explain to her companion that noise was an essential component of her world, that she needed to hear voices, for instance, to feel grounded, that it made her jittery to not hear anything for long lengths of time. Very often she played the radio just to make sure there were four walls surrounding her. She watched television, which she despised, for the same reason—the need to hear the human voice.