Chapter Three #2
But to her dismay both Terry and Robert burst out laughing at Cole’s comment that he would pray for her. Their amusement did
little to ease her indignation. Lesley found nothing in her situation worthy of laughter. Pinching her mouth tightly shut,
she moved into the crowd and joined the others in a song fest.
Later, the awards for the best costume were given, and Lesley won for the most original. Her smile was tremulous as she accepted
the handcrafted bow and submitted to a series of picture taking. But the pleasure of the award didn’t show in her eyes, and
she felt drained and tired by the time the party broke up shortly before ten.
Robert and Terry walked out to the parking lot with her. Robert ran a hand along her car bumper. “It hardly shows. Of course,
it’s hard to tell without daylight. But by the look of things, you got off lightly.”
“I suppose.” Lesley knew she didn’t sound grateful, but Cole Daniels had ruined her evening.
Terry gave her a funny look that Lesley chose to ignore.
“It’s been a long week.” Robert exchanged glances with his wife, but not before Lesley caught a glimpse of censure in their
eyes.
“Yes, it has,” Lesley agreed. “Tomorrow I’m going to look through the want ads and see about finding someplace to move. I
can’t take much more of that ill-mannered oaf from next door.”
Lesley saw Terry open her mouth, then just as quickly close it.
“You might sleep on it,” Robert advised.
“I might,” she said more sharply than she intended. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The comment was directed to Terry. The sisters
did their errands and grocery shopping together on Saturdays.
“Night.” Lesley scooted inside her car and started the engine.
“Night.” Robert answered for them both.
Lesley noticed that her sister and brother-in-law were engaged in a lively conversation on the way back into the church. After
a minute, Terry’s head bobbed in agreement. Unconcerned, Lesley drove home. She would move. It was the perfect solution. There
was no need to live this far out of town. But then she did enjoy the country life and having a large garden.
Lesley recalled how she and Terry had found the duplex shortly after Terry was married. She remembered the pride they had
in painting the house and tilling the backyard for the garden. The closeness they’d shared as sisters had been enhanced because
they lived so near to each other.
Now everything was different, thanks to Cole Daniels.
His car was in the driveway when she pulled up. Although she felt like slamming the car door, she exercised rigid restraint
and allowed it to shut normally. She was reaching across her seat for the empty cookie plate and her purse when he spoke.
“I see you made it home safely.”
Cole was leaning indolently against his door-jamb, his arms and legs crossed as he regarded her with lazy indulgence.
Lesley stiffened and swallowed back an angry outburst. “Yes, I did,” she said tautly, her voice tight, “no thanks to you.”
“I sent the tow truck.” His mouth deepened into grooves as he fought to suppress a smile.
“Am I supposed to thank you for that?”
“A little appreciation wouldn’t be amiss.”
Hands on hips, she glared at him across the short distance that separated them. “Well, thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You . . . You left me standing out there in the dark and alone. I was worried sick. Because of you I missed half the party
and the whole thing was your fault in the first place and—”
“My, my,” he interrupted, the lazy smile evident in his voice. “You’ve worked yourself into a regular snit.”
“Don’t you dare say that word to me!” She pointed her index finger at him accusingly. “You left me there. Anything could have
happened after you drove off.” She could see that her anger was affecting him.
Cole straightened, dropping his hands to his side. “And just what was I supposed to do?” he challenged, an impatient edge
to his voice.
“Help me!” she shouted.
“You needed a tow truck. I’m not Superman—I can’t lift cars out of ditches.”
“But . . . But you told the driver you thought I was dressed funny and he should be careful.”
“From what I’ve witnessed tonight, who could argue?”
“You’re the most despicable, selfish and hurtful man I’ve ever known. If I never saw you again I’d—”
“And you’ve got to be the most unreasonable, childish—”
“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this garbage,” Lesley shouted and whirled around. She stormed up the steps to her
front door and turned the knob. Nothing. She tried again, pushing it in with her shoulder, forgetting she had locked it.
“Don’t tell me I have to come over and hold your hand while you open the door?”
Lesley tossed him a look that left little doubt of what she was thinking.
Her hand shook as she inserted the key into the lock.
Cole Daniels had to be the most irritating man she had ever encountered.
This little incident was the crack that broke the dam.
She’d move. Tomorrow first thing she’d start looking for another apartment.
Still keyed up, Lesley jerked the cone from the top of her head and paced the living room floor like a wild, caged animal.
The impatient tap that sounded from his side of the wall only fueled her anger. With purpose-filled steps she strode over
and pounded right back. Take that, she fumed.
She changed out of her costume and climbed into a full-length purple velvet robe. Never had she reacted like this to any man,
any situation. Not only did her personality grate against Cole’s, he had the ability to make her say and do things that were
normally foreign to her gentle nature.
The muted tapping sounds of the typewriter came through the walls. Did Cole feel the same way about her?
Lesley brought her knees up, hugging them against her stomach as she rested her chin on top.
Did she resent him because he’d taken her sister’s place? The thought was too ridiculous to even consider.
The irritating blast of a car horn came from outside. Lesley stood and pulled back the center of the closed drapes to see
what was happening.
A sinking sensation attacked the pit of her stomach and shut her eyes as frustration burned its way through her. This evening
was going from bad to worse.
The car horn blared again impatiently as Dale and Frank drove onto the lawn, their tires digging deep into the damp grass.
Behind the small crack separating the drapes, Lesley watched as Dale climbed out of the passenger side of the car. He staggered
a little, paused and took a long swig from the beer bottle he was carrying.
The doorbell buzzed and Lesley stared at the wooden door with terrified eyes. She wouldn’t answer it.
“Come on, baby,” Dale cooed. “I know you’re inside. We’ve got a party to go to.”
Frozen in a standing position by the window, Lesley could hear her heart pounding in a wild beat. Nothing had ever sounded
so loud. Dale was sure to hear it. Should she phone the police? Would Frank and Dale hear her movements inside the apartment
and break down the door if she did? What did she have handy that she could defend herself with?
“Don’t let her get away with this,” Lesley heard Frank shout out the car window. “Put your foot down, man,” he added.
Dale jabbed the doorbell a second time, then started pounding furiously against the front door.
In desperation, Lesley hurried into the kitchen and phoned the police station. She couldn’t deal with two drunks, and there
was no telling what could happen.
The officer who answered kept Lesley on the line for several minutes, taking down the necessary information. He assured her
a patrol car was on the way.
When Lesley returned to the living room, she could hear angry shouts. Another glance out the window confirmed her suspicions.
Cole was on the front lawn demanding that Frank and Dale leave. Frank had climbed out of the car and appeared to be the more
sober of the two as he approached Cole, his look dark and angry.
The argument was fast becoming heated, the language more abusive. When Dale took a wild swing at Cole, Lesley gave a small
cry of alarm. Cole ducked but took a punch in the stomach from Frank. Dumbfounded, Lesley stared as Cole stumbled a few steps
before recovering enough to fight off Dale, who was attempting to hold him down so Frank could punch him.
More outraged than she could remember being in her life, Lesley grabbed the broom from the kitchen and stalked outside.
“Get out of here,” she shouted at Dale and brushing him across the chest with the straw part of the broom. She repeated the action again and again, her revulsion fueling the attack.
Dale brought up his hands to defend himself, then tried to grab the broom out of her hand. He caught the bristly part and
was pulling her to him when Cole laid him flat with one well-delivered blow. Frank was already on the grass, apparently knocked
out.
“Are you all right?” Cole asked her breathlessly, his shoulders heaving. An ugly bruise was forming along the side of his
face, and the knuckles on one hand were beginning to swell.
“I’m fine. What about you?”
He nodded and wiped the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.
A silence settled between them as they regarded each other.
Unsure, she lifted her hand, her fingertips lightly brushing the hair from his temple, and explored the darkening bruise.
Cole’s smoldering gaze ran over her face, and their eyes locked. His look was gentle yet intense, and Lesley felt weak, as
if her knees were about to give out on her.
A gentle smile touched his mouth. “Four karate lessons and you come at him with a broom?”
“I took the first thing that came to mind.” There was a breathlessness to her response. “I didn’t want you hurt because of
Dale.”
“Your friends?” His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Not likely.” She shook her head self-consciously and looked away. “I went out with Dale a couple of times, but that was it.”