Bring on the Rain (30 page)

“
Thank you. Where’s
Nick?”

“
He’ll be right back, he
went to get stock and bring it up. We got a bunch of tourists
coming in from the hotel.”

Madeline nodded. “How’s Lauren doing?
Good with the day crowd?”

“
Perfect, cool as a
cucumber.” He smiled and shook back a lock of hair from his eye. “I
made a pass at her, and she said, oh-so-calmly, “I’ll let you know
if my first impression of you improves.”

Madeline gasped, “What was
it?”

“
Oh, she thinks I’m a
gigolo.” He grinned wickedly.

She was still laughing when Nick
returned and they headed to the back.

Mid-way through the shift, Madeline
relaxed and sat down. Ashley had everyone covered, the band was
good, the crowd happy, and the dance floor full. She fixed a lime
and water, took a stronger headache capsule, and was drinking the
thing down when Mitch came in. He spoke to Rafe who opened the
door, and then obviously caught sight of her.

He looked good-silky black shirt and
jeans and boots, and a fresh haircut that flattered his dark face
and feathered the silvery stuff.

The band was loud as he sat down next
to her.

She lowered the glass to the bar. “What
can I get you?”

“
Nothing, I wanted to check
on you, I knew you were upset at the festival.”

“
I’m fine.”

“
You look beat.” He leaned
over so they could talk under the twang of a steel
guitar.

“
It’s been a rough week,
water heater busted, lawn mower died, typical stuff.”

“
You should have called me.”
His eyes went over her face warm and slow.

“
No. I thank you for taking
over the chore of car shopping for me, but I have lived on my own,
Brook and me, I’ve dealt with these things often. Though, not all
at once like this.”

She smiled lamely, but added, “I don't
need a man coming in and taking charge of things.”

His brow went up. “Taking care, or
taking over? I would have done whatever you asked, not what I
thought.”

“
Would you?” There was an
edge to her tone from her own stress.

“
Yes, Madeline.” He
considered her as the music stopped, he was still looking when
Ashley came over and filled her order and left.

Madeline sighed closed her eyes a
second and offered, “Sorry, I’m not myself lately.”

He slid his hand so it touched her
elbow on the bar. Lightly his fingers rubbed at her skin. A slow
waltz was playing from the band.

“
How long you working
tonight?”

“
I’m not, I’m supervising
Ashley there, she’s new, and I’ve been training her.”

She saw Mitch look at Ashley. She was
surprised to find herself a little jealous, examining if his look
had been a bit too long…or maybe too up and down.

He turned his eyes to her again. “She
seems to be handling things.”

“
She’s separated, available,
obviously young, and beautiful. Would you like me to introduce
you?”

Mitch looked bewildered and then
pissed. His whole face changed; jaw fixed, and teeth set. He got up
and stood in front of her, his eyes speaking more than his words
“I’ll stop by when you get off. Maybe by then you’ll be too tired
to be such a bitch.”

As he left, Madeline closed her eyes
and sighed, opened them and finished her water. She got up and
helped Ashley serve customers, feeling as if she had no
self-control anymore. Knowing—she absolutely had been a bitch for
saying that.

Chapter 16

Mitch was parked by the jeep, leaning
against his truck door, when Madeline came out after she and Rafael
locked up.

“
Have you eaten?” His tone
was neutral.

“
A salad, this evening
sometime.” She was beat.

“
Follow me home. I’m cooking
you supper.”

“
No, Mitch.” She had opened
the jeep door. “Someone might drop by and get the w—”

“
It’s two A-M.”

“
Brook is probably
home.”

“
I checked with Coy, the
club shut down at one, and they’re at the all night Mini mart
messing around. He said Brook left a message for you on the porch.
Saying they wanted to hang out awhile,”

“
She shouldn’t be out
late.”

“
They’ve got Karla with
them. Hey, they’re young, and they’re excited about the Prom and
Graduation.”

Madeline got in her car, started it,
and sat there a moment. “I can eat a bologna sandwich. I’m
dog-tired, Mitch.”

He came over, reached in to smooth her
hair back. He murmured, “Nothing but dinner, a shower if you want,
but that's all I’m asking.”

“
You need to sleep.” She
yawned hugely.

“
I don't do that much
anymore,” he admitted. “I've always got up in the middle of the
night and rambled round. Comes from—” He stopped.

She looked at him,
questioning.

“
From not being able to lie
beside Ronda all night.”

Madeline looked away and
swallowed.

“
We’re probably going to
have to talk about them sooner or later... Ronda and
Bud.”

She rested her head on the top of the
steering wheel where her hand grasped it.

“
Come on, I’ll follow you, I
don't want you falling asleep at the wheel.”

She sat back, nodded, and started her
car, waiting until he was in his truck and lights on, Madeline
pulled out. In a numb fog, she drove to Copper Creek. She didn’t
have the wits to tell him about Max tonight. She had to talk about
the past with him, find out more about his character now, to be
able to read him better when she did come clean, so she’d know what
was coming.

It was semi light when Madeline pulled
in his drive. A late night/ early morning hush, where all the
houses were dark, a few yard, and landscape lights on. She was
walking up the steps ahead of him when she stopped and gazed at the
dog running toward him.

“
Nipper?” Madeline whispered
to Mitch as she rubbed the thick black coat.

“
Nipper junior.” He patted
the dog, sent him back to the porch with a hand motion. She
thought, even the animals testify to the stretch of years it has
been since we—were-an us.

On the porch, Mitch unlocked the door,
and she stepped into the dimly lit great room.

“
If you want a shower or
anything—”

“
I’ve got no change of
clothing.”

He led her across the room, flipping on
low lamps where the floor needed lit. Past the entry to the den and
into a back bedroom. It was empty with only a big bed, wardrobe,
and dresser. A wall of closets down one side, paneled in rustic
wood. The bed had a quilt on it in dark blue and red. Madeline saw
through a connecting door a bathroom with blue tile.

Mitch pulled out a drawer and handed
her a white T-shirt and pair of boxers still with the tag on.
“Jason accidentally bought the wrong size and never took them back.
They were for someone for Christmas. I get stuck with all this
stuff.”

They left the room and went across to
another empty guestroom, to a shower with twinjets, as big as her
living room. A stained mellow board held enough products to stock
the personal aisle of the drug store, and an old antique wardrobe
held fluffy towels.

“
Take your time.” He left
her to go to the kitchen.

Madeline did. She stood there with
water spraying her from both sides and emptied her mind. It was a
chore to wash her hair and scrub her body. She would like to just
tune out for a year or two and rest. Nevertheless, Madeline stepped
out eventually and used his generic lotion and antiperspirant then
combed her hair.

She could smell something mouthwatering
cooking as she drew on the boxers; they were about the same size
she usually bought, in a purple flannel check. She pulled on the
lose T-shirt. Okay, she was conscious of being without her undies.
She balled her dirty clothing up, hoping Brook would not be home
when she got there, took a scented trash bag from a roll on the
shelf, and put her clothing in it. Madeline carried her boots and
it, to the kitchen, and set them on a straight chair by the
exit.

She was not surprised when he pointed
out a pair of new socks for her, they were some he bought for his
cousin’s boy, he said, and forgot to put them in the Santa
sack.

There was music floating softly from
the den. Madeline eyed the kitchen shelves, not cabinets, wooden
and hand carved, and lots of copper pots, expensive skillets and
spices. Tile counters in mellow colors, black appliances, and a big
long table he had probably made.

The chairs were miss-matched. It was a
high-beamed comfortable room, rustic enough to be relaxed; a place
where cooking and eating would be a pleasant experience. She moved
to the stove and looked around him.

“
Spaghetti okay?”

“
Fantastic.”

Mitch nodded. “Got the garlic bread
ready, too. Get yourself a drink and go to the den if you
want.”

Madeline noticed his boots were off,
and socks, his shirt too. He looked as natural standing there
cooking as he had that day at Jason’s. He must have taken a quick
shower, his hair was wet, and he wore softer Levi’s.

“
I’d fall asleep in
there.”

“
Want faster music?” He
glanced at her,

“
No.” She laughed quietly.
“Not after the lively band we had tonight.”

He looked around and eyed her slicked
back hair and shiny face. “I bought an acoustic C.D. the other day,
it’s pretty mellow.”

“
Yeah.” Their eyes met,
held, and Madeline felt for the first time the late hour, empty
house, how alone they were.

Mitch seemed to catch it, sighed, and
went back to his cooking. “Help yourself to a drink,” he said
again.

She chose soda from the fridge and
asked what she could do to help.

He asked her for the strainer, Madeline
got it, and then she fetched the olive oil and butter for him.
Before long, they were both busy, getting the meal on the
table.

Mitch set the plates, and filled them
heaping full. Madeline placed napkins and silverware. He put the
basket of garlic bread out. Then they were seated, across from each
other.

She breathed in the steamy smell,
feeling famished.

Mitch reached across and took her
hands, bowed his head and said grace. Her throat constricted. She
swallowed as he thanked God for her being here, and asked him to
watch her safely home.

He released her hands and winked at
her, then began to eat.

Madeline did too, sighing a bit at the
taste of real food after so many burgers, and microwave dinners.
“God, this is so good.” Madeline rolled her eyes with
pleasure.

Mitch half grinned, twirling his fork
in the pasta. “I like to cook, get tired of doing it for one
though.”

“
I’d cook, if I could do it
sitting down.” Madeline joked telling him about her horrible week.
Before long they were conversing, exchanging work talk, flowing
into a comfortable exchange, which led to subjects like teenagers,
Proms, and Graduation, kids in general.

“
It’s no wonder you have no
energy, the hours you work and the kind of food you been eating.”
He grunted finishing off his milk and fetching another
glass.

When he was seated, she told him, “I’m
going to be crazy when Brook leaves though, when that room is empty
and the phone line is open. And there are no wet towels on the
bathroom floor, uniforms in the laundry room to iron, snack foods
lasting a week.”

She sat back and shook her head looking
down at her empty plate. “I gripe about hearing that bass all the
time, she plays everything too loud, and God, the mess she leaves
in the kitchen makes me nuts. But what will I do?” Her eyes burned,
she waved her hand. “Change the subject, quickly.” Madeline
laughed. “I do not want to ruin this good meal.”

He was watching, listening, and smiling
at her. Now he said, “I don't mind. I’d like to get to know what
your life is like.”

She was finished eating, as was he.
They cleaned up, loaded the dishwasher and he invited her into the
den, turning more lights on in case Madeline said no…, which she
looked about to, because the room had barely been lit.

The lighting he chose was dim enough
for night, but not hinting at seduction. They settled on the
sectional and he used a remote to lower the music.

“
Want coffee?”

“
No. I still have my soda.”
Madeline was lying back with her head on the cushions, and her feet
reclined. “This is too comfortable, and I ate too much.”

He rolled his head, gazing at her while
the beautiful acoustic melody floated through the room. “I can’t
believe you’re here,” he murmured, reaching out to run the backside
of his finger down her cheek.