In the Midnight Rain (4 page)

"For what?"

"I have no idea."

"I still say it's crazy, taking a man you don't know up on an offer like that. Only heaven knows what kind of person he is." The screen door to the kitchen slammed, and in her mind's eye, Ellie saw the red vinyl and chrome chairs that matched the red Formica table. Right now, her grandmother would be opening the drawer to the left of the sink, her junk drawer that really was very junky, and digging through it to find a pencil. "I'm ready for the number," she said. "Go ahead."

Ellie read it off the phone. "It should only take me a few weeks to get this research done, and then I'll come home and finish the book there."

"Child, I keep telling you I'm doing just fine. You don't have to change your life around to take care of me.''

"I'm not coming to take care of you. I just want to spend some time with you. Unless," she added with a grin, "you don't want me there."

"Don't be silly."

"All right then. I'll keep you posted, but I'm guessing I'll be done by the end of the month." She looked at the calendar on the wall and quelled the faint sense of panic the date gave her.

"Well, you do what's right for you, child. I still think you're chasing a pipe dream."

Ellie knew that Geraldine did not mean Mabel Beauvais. "Aren't you even curious?"

"Heck, no! Why would I care all these years later who your mama was sleeping around with?"

Ellie rolled her eyes. Though in truth it probably had happened just that way, it was faintly painful to hear it said aloud. "Anyway, that's a side trip. I have to get this biography done."

"Mmmm. So, is he good-looking?"

"Who?"

"You know very well."

She did, but lying made her feel bad. With a sigh, she admitted, "Handsome is really too mild a word."

A
tsk
." Don't lose your head this time."

"No, I've learned my lesson. Pretty is as pretty does."

Satisfied that she'd warded off immediate danger, Geraldine said, "I'll be praying for you like always. I love you."

"I love you, too, Grandma. I'll call you in a day or two."

Keeping the warning in mind, Ellie did nothing to particularly improve her appearance before Blue came to fetch her. She wore serviceable cotton shorts, crisp and neat but a long way from sexy, with an equally clean, pressed blouse. She wet her hair and combed it away from her face, fastening it with a thick scrunchie, and was going to skip the makeup, but in the end compromised with just a little blush to counter her sallowness, telling herself it was simply self-respect.

A white lie that was revealed the instant she opened the door to his knock. "Morning," he drawled.

Ellie sucked in a breath. Along with the rose scent of the air came the smell of clean man. She'd been trying to tell herself she'd exaggerated his appeal overnight. She hadn't.

"Morning," she said. She closed the door behind her, and let him open the truck door for her. He climbed in the other side.

"How about some breakfast?" he asked.

"That would be great."

"Good." He started the truck and reached for the radio. "You mind?"

She shook her head. He clicked the knob and Ellie expected to hear rock and roll or maybe soul or blues. Instead, a cheerful swirl of swing filled the cab. She grinned, forgetting her self-consciousness, and raised her eyebrows at him.

He was backing out of the spot in front of the cabin, and caught her gaze only as he turned back to shift. "What? You don't like it?"

Damn, she thought. Not just blue eyes. Course not. Everything about him was more, and his eyes made her think of that moment between night and daylight, light and dark, hope and despair, all caught in that single moment. "No, actually, I do like it." She inclined her head in a gesture of dismissal. "I just wouldn't have expected you to. It's awfully New York."

He winked. "Stick around, kid. I'm full of surprises."

Ellie chuckled, and the tension in her eased. So he was gorgeous. She could get around that. "Tell me about the town," she said.

He entertained her with wry tales of fortunes won and lost as they drove the short distance into town. "And here," he said with a wry tone, "we have the main event. Gideon, all three thousand people."

They drove down a sleepy main street, lined with buildings mostly erected a century before, interspersed with the odd McDonald's and up-to-the-minute gas station. One side street was blocked off, and Ellie saw earth movers and other heavy construction equipment. "What's going in there? Wal-Mart?"

"We're not big enough for Wal-Mart yet," he said with a grin. "That's a Vietnam war memorial going in." He slowed behind a truck hauling a horse trailer and glanced in the mirror. "Marcus—the one you met last night?—is in charge. It was supposed to be dedicated Memorial Day, but they're aiming now for Fourth of July. We'll see."

Ellie looked at him. "Really?"

His face shifted the slightest bit, and she suddenly saw again the darkness that had lain below his cheekbones last night. "Yeah. Believe it or not, this little bitty town lost forty-two people to that war."

"Why so many?"

A shrug. "Patriotic, I guess."

He turned the corner by the courthouse, a huge, elaborate affair built of red stone, and waited for a car to pull out in front of an obviously popular cafe. The driver waved, giving Ellie an openly curious look, as he pulled out. Blue waved back and took the open spot. "Here we are."

It looked like home, Ellie thought as she stepped out. The courthouse with its wide lawns and thick stands of pecan trees, the trucks and farm vehicles in the streets, the mix of white and black on foot on the sidewalks, busy on errands before it got too hot.

"What do you think?" Blue asked.

She smiled. "Homey."

The cafe had the same feeling. It had obviously been standing in the same location for decades, but the walls had been redone in a green-and-white ivy print, and the green vinyl covering on the booths and chairs looked new. The waitresses wore slacks and polo shirts, green and white, with tennis shoes. One was on her way to deliver an order when she caught sight of Blue. She immediately changed direction. "Hey, handsome," she said.

"How you doing, Julie?" Blue drew Ellie forward by her elbow. "This is my houseguest, Ellie Connor."

"Hi," she said without enthusiasm. Ellie quelled a smile. "Right this way. Table for two by the window." She let them move by her and settle in, then added, "I know how you like to watch the girls go by."

"Thanks." Blue shot Ellie a glance wickedly dancing with amusement.

"Old girlfriend?" Ellie guessed when the woman walked away.

"Yeah—seventeen years ago." He didn't laugh aloud, but she saw the twitch of his lips. "Somebody's got to be irresistible, right?"

"Noble of you to take it on."

A studied shrug, charming and self-deprecating at once. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Her husband left her a few months ago. She's just feeling lonely."

"I'll try not to be too threatening," Ellie whispered back, then looked at the waitress. Auburn-haired, trim, and tall, she had the kind of well-tended prettiness Ellie always associated with Texas women. She chuckled. "I'm sure she's just terrified."

Ellie didn't look away fast enough, so that outrageous blue of his eyes slammed into her hard, again, and once caught, it was hard to make herself look away. "Any woman who knows anything would kill to have your mouth," he said.

Which made it nearly impossible to keep from doing something like pursing her lips or wiggling them or biting them or something. "I wasn't fishing for compliments," she said, and opened the menu.

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were."

Ellie glanced up, and caught him grinning. "Touché."

He lifted his chin toward the menu. "The biscuits and gravy are terrific. You should try them."

* * *

As they came out of the restaurant into the glorious sunlight, Ellie lifted her face and breathed deeply the moss and magnolia smell of the air. She patted her belly. "That was so good. Thank you."

"My pleasure, ma'am. Good to see a woman who eats like that." He gestured down the block. "Let's go see Rosemary. She ought to be there by now."

"Terrific." Ellie had been corresponding with Rosemary Grace, a niece to Mabel Beauvais, and although Rosemary didn't remember her, she had promised Ellie access to family letters and photographs.

"It's just down the block," he said, lifting an open hand to someone passing down the street. "We can walk."

Ellie fell in beside him, taking pleasure in the morning and the easy camaraderie she felt with Blue. It had been there from the beginning in their E-mails, but last night she'd been made uncomfortable by his good looks. This morning, the other feeling was back, and she could relax.

It was also pleasant to realize she was really in a small town for a change. She loved them, loved the easy flow of relations, things like the simple wave he'd returned, the nods he gave to people they passed. The air was moist on her skin, the late spring sunlight not yet the weight it would be later in the day.

Across the street stood the rosy-colored courthouse with a proper dome and pillars across the front. Thick bluegrass and pecan trees spread away from it to the sidewalks, providing an oasis of shade and comfort and a sense of stability. A white frame church with a steeple stood on the corner. On this side of the street was an assortment of shops—a bakery sending a scent of fried dough into the morning; a shoe shop, with a sign that boasted the prices of heel repair; a beauty parlor; and at the end, Rosemary's Book Stop.

Yes, she knew this world. It surprised her how much she'd missed it.

A plump, neat black woman in her mid-forties struggled with a key in the front door of the bookstore. Obviously the Rosemary of the shop's name. She kicked the door impatiently as they approached.

Blue chuckled. "Morning. You need some help?"

"Oh, fiddlesticks," the woman said, and stepped back. "It jams all the time lately. I don't know what's wrong with it."

Blue had it open in a moment, and gave her the keys with a flourish. "Needs some WD-40, that's all. I have some in my truck. I'll be right back." He headed down the block, then turned back, grinning at them. "Where are my manners? Rosemary Grace, this is Ellie Connor."

Rosemary raised her brows. "We'd have managed, Blue."

"Now I'll get the WD-40."

"You do that. Come on in, Ellie," Rosemary said. "I'm fifteen minutes behind, and it makes me mad to be late. They have these streets so torn up over that damned memorial you can't get through."

Ellie followed her into the store, watching as she flipped on the fluorescent lights and dropped her purse on the counter. It was a wide room, and every inch of it was packed with books that perfumed the air with notes of faint dust and paper and glue. Old books, she saw as the light spluttered on; old paperbacks and hardcovers of every imaginable genre, neatly alphabetized. Boldly lettered signs high on the wall guided the browser to particular sections: science fiction and fantasy, history and biography, mystery.

"I have to do just a couple of things," Rosemary said, heading for the back. "If you can hang on just one minute, I'll be right with you."

"Take your time," Ellie said. "I'm in no hurry at all."

The room was split in half, with new books on the other side of the cash register. With writerly approval, Ellie noticed the books were displayed face-out as much as possible, and there were tags quoting reviews or recommendations from obviously local readers beneath them: "Delbert Reese says this is a good military history." She smiled. Everything was clean and organized, shelved with a logic that often seemed to defeat small booksellers. Rosemary knew her business and took it seriously.

Bless her heart.

Toward the back, an open archway had a computer generated banner over it:
Romance for everyone!
Ellie peeked in and saw a large, charming room, pleasingly bright thanks to a big window to the back showing a park-like view of trees and a small stream. Easy chairs, worn but inviting, nestled in corners, with small lamps nearby for easy exploration. Ellie went down the two steps into the room and wandered through.

The new books were displayed with the same care and attention as the books in the other room, the covers displayed face out, with small, typed tags beneath some of them.

"There you are!" Rosemary said. "You read romances?

"I read everything," she said with a wry smile. "Or I used to. My job now requires so much reading, I don't ever seem to pick up books for pleasure." She gestured. "This room makes me want to start."

Rosemary gestured to one of the chairs. "Have a seat."

"Oh, I don't want to keep you from your business. I was just hoping we might be able to set up an appointment."

"Don't be silly. If someone comes in, they'll look around." As if to illustrate she had all the time in the world, she settled in one of the chairs next to the window and smoothed the burgundy challis skirt over her knees. "Please, join me."

"Thank you."

An electronic
ding
sounded. Both Rosemary and Ellie looked toward the front of the store. Blue called out, "It's me!"

Rosemary answered him, and turned back to Ellie. Her eyes were large and very dark, almost black, and there were golden freckles over her nose, giving the middle-aged face an air of eternal youthfulness. "Now, why don't you tell me how you decided to write a biography of my aunt." She gave the word aunt the elongated
ahh.
"She was quite a character, but I can't imagine how you came across her. There hasn't been much written."

"No," Ellie agreed. "That's one reason it makes such a great story. I stumbled over her by accident. I was finishing up some research on another blues musician, and found a picture of her." Ellie remembered the afternoon clearly—sitting in the stacks at the University of Michigan's Ann Arbor library, a group of Chinese students murmuring behind her, and the oddly compelling picture of a beautiful woman laughing, as if to defy the world. "She was with Smokin' Joe Reese, and there was this look on his face"—Ellie paused and shook her head with a smile—"like he would eat her up if he could. But she was laughing, like she didn't even notice. I loved how free and beautiful she looked but the tag line on the photo said she disappeared three days later." Ellie spread her hands. "It just pierced me. I wanted to find out who she was."