Down from the Mountain

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“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.

Chapter Four

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.