Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
RHETT
I looked out the window for the hundredth time. No sign of Ella. She left so hastily after my grumpy, cold dismissal of her that she forgot her scarf. While I was sure she was done with me, I hoped she’d at least return for the scarf. I badly wanted to apologize. My scar was always a sore subject. Sometimes I could get through an entire day and not think about it or notice it, but seeing the way Ella looked at it made me hate it even more. I would never be whole again because the flesh on my arm had been disintegrated by fire, and while the physical pain was mostly gone, the mental anguish that came with it would follow me the rest of my life. The scars would always be there to remind me of the betrayal and hurt I felt that day.
My phone rang. I pulled it out angrily, certain it would be Christine. Her ill-timed text yesterday was the second, bigger catalyst that shifted my mood and sent Ella scurrying from the house. I was relieved to see it was only a contractor returning my call. As badly as I wanted to block Christine’s calls and texts, we were still tangled in a legal battle—our divorce. And Christine had been dragging her feet, working at reigniting what we had . But there was nothing there. In fact, the more I thought about our marriage, the more I realized there was never anything there. I supposed I had her to thank for so plainly pointing that out to me.
The phone kept ringing in my hand, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone about this wreck of a house. It almost suited my mood better in this state of disrepair. For a moment, I’d been bitten by the renovation bug. Fixing this place up, returning it to its former glory, sounded fun, exciting even. That was all because of Ella. Her bright presence in the house made me think I needed to fix the old place up. The dilapidation just didn’t look right around someone who was pure beauty.
I let the call go to voicemail. I’d called several contractors, mostly local and one who was part of a nationwide renovation company. One of the local contractors immediately balked at the idea of working at Grimstone. He told me he wasn’t sure he could get some of his usual sub-contractors up to the manor due to its reputation of being cursed. The guy laughed, acting as if the curse meant nothing to him but the others might say no.
The knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I hurried to the entry and opened it. Huge relief washed through me. Ella was wearing a thick winter coat and a tartan plaid beanie. “My scarf,” she said curtly. “I’ll just grab it and be on my way.”
“No,” I said too quickly.
She peered up at me with her doe eyes. “No? But it’s my scarf.”
“Yes, your scarf is here and of course you can have it, but—” The words were stumbling out of my mouth. “It’s cold. Come inside. I need to apologize.”
Ella hesitated, and I was stunned at how profoundly that small pause affected me. I’d really blown it. She was right. I was angry and grim and strange and not worthy of a friendship like hers.
After giving it some thought, she stepped inside.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“That depends. Does it come with a big spoonful of grump? Because I don’t need that. My sister Layla couldn’t find her keys this morning, and I’ve already had enough grump for the day.”
I nodded. “I’ll keep the grump under wraps.”
She hung up her coat.
“I guess I have that scarf to thank for getting a chance to apologize,” I said. “You weren’t planning to come back.” It wasn’t a question. “I don’t blame you.”
“I’m not sure if I would have come back.” She led the way to the kitchen and left a faint scent of perfume behind her. It was pretty and bright like her, a mood lightener—something that had been lacking in my life lately.
I walked over to the coffeepot. “I could make up the excuse that I was tired from bad sleep.” I poured two cups of coffee and carried them to the table. Ella was holding back her usual smile. That was my fault. I set the coffee down. As my sweater sleeve inched back, my scar reared its hideous head. Ella made a point of staring down into her cup. I hadn’t meant for the scar to become a part of my apology, but I didn’t like the new strained tension between us. I’d enjoyed the past few days, even smiled, something that I’d nearly forgotten how to do, and it was all because of Ella. I’d moved to a remote place, a place where I knew no one, far away from my past life, for a reason. Only Ella made me realize that I didn’t want isolation. I’d punished myself long enough.
“Good coffee,” Ella said with a weak smile.
“It was an accident,” I started. “A car accident. But I wasn’t in the car.” I shook my head once to get my thoughts straight. Aside from telling the police everything I remembered from that day, I’d never actually told the story out loud to someone who wasn’t a stern looking official in a uniform. Heck, Ella was far from that. She was so different than most people and so full of life, I could almost see a glow around her as she sat in my dimly lit kitchen.
“It’s all right. None of my business.” Ella lifted the cup to her mouth. She took my hesitation as not wanting to tell her the story, but I was just reshuffling it so it made more sense.
Without thinking, I reached over and took hold of her hand. Just for a second. But it was long enough to send a series of sparks up my arm. Ella blushed and I released her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said quickly.
“I want you to know,” I said, “you’re the first person I’ve felt—I don’t even know how to describe it.” Here I went again with the disjointed thoughts. Hell, Rhett, has it been so long since you cared about someone? And that’s when it hit me. Yes, it had been that long, only that wasn’t the significant part. I cared about Ella. I didn’t want her to walk out the door and never return. And that was all I needed to pull my thoughts together. “I came here to Whisper Cove to leave behind the life I was living, the people who surrounded me. I had everything a person could want, but I wasn’t happy. I was betrayed by my best friend slash business partner and my wife.” I let that statement hang in the air while she untangled it.
Her eyes rounded. “Your best friend and your wife?” She understood. “I’m sorry. That really is world class betrayal.”
“Felt like it at the time, until I realized how much happier I was with both of them out of my life. Only …” I sat back. “Mike, my best friend and partner”—I pushed some of my sleeve back to show more scar. This time it was done consciously, so it didn’t feel nearly as bad. “Mike and I grew up together. We were rarely apart. Even went to UCLA at the same time. Then we started a business, a software company that grew into a huge success. I was more hurt by his betrayal than my wife’s. Christine and I moved from dating to engaged and married in a short time, but Mike and I had been through a lot together.” I put my hand on the cup but didn’t lift it to my mouth. “Mike died in the accident. I burned my arm trying to free him from the wreckage.”
“But you weren’t in the car,” Ella said.
“I was driving the same road, right behind them.”
“Them?” she asked.
“Christine was in the car with Mike. I got her out safely, then went back but the car was crushed on the driver’s side. I couldn’t get him out.”
This time it was Ella who reached for my hand. It was so small and soft as it covered mine. She’d sensed my distress telling the story. “I get the picture now, Rhett. I don’t need to hear more unless you want to tell it. If it helps, I mean.”
I took a deep breath. “I think that’s enough therapy for one day.”
She smiled. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“You’re that and more, Ella. Your sisters, your friends, they’re really lucky to have you in their lives.”
Ella looked shyly down at her cup again. “Not sure if that’s true.” She lifted her brown gaze. “But if you need an ear in the future—” She pointed to her ear. “It sounds like you went through some hard times, but as you know—as we all know, because it’s what keeps us putting one foot in front of the other after we’ve had a rough time—things always get better. I think this house is your new life, and I think if there really is a curse, then you’ve just broken it by moving in and letting the house know that you’re not worried about a stupid ole curse and that you know this house is a masterpiece that just needs a little clean up and paint.”
I laughed. “And a few other things, too, but I think you’re right. This house deserves it. Sometimes as I’m walking down the hallways or entering a new room that I haven’t really been in before, I see the details, the craftsmanship, something that is lacking in new houses. Then I think I was really lucky to find this place. And now, speaking of this house and your article—” I paused for dramatic effect, and she reacted adorably with brown eyes rounding expectantly and a small “O” forming on her lush, pink lips. “I think there may be something to that curse rumor. I found something. Interested in seeing it?”
She nearly launched from her seat. “What do you think?”