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He’d never felt so conflicted about anyone, which was why he typically stayed away from her. It was easier to ignore her, or so he’d thought until he couldn’t ignore her any longer. “That’s a good idea. I know drillers who’ve lost an eye or a finger—even a hand. Have you ever been hurt?”
She pushed up the sleeve of her brown off-the-shoulder sweater to reveal a long scar on her forearm. “Got this when a cable broke. Required twenty stitches.”
Without her pointing it out, he wouldn’t have noticed it even if she’d been sleeveless. It was covered that well by her tattoos.
Turning, she lifted her sweater so he could see a round, puncture-like scar on her back, which she’d made into the sun and the center of her solar system tattoo. So now he knew right where it was—and for no good reason he could think of, he sort of liked having that knowledge. “Got this when a water hose blew with so much pressure it threw me against the drill.” She rolled up her faded jeans. “And a piece of slag cut right through my pants and embedded itself in my leg. A surgeon had to remove it.” She put her pant leg back down. “Those are just the injuries that’ve left scars. You?”
“The worst injury I ever received didn’t leave a scar. I was hooking a cable to a drilling tool when the heating device backfired and blasted me in the face with gasoline. Spent five days in the hospital for that one.”
“Sounds bad.”
“It was. In our line of work, almost anything can go wrong.” He showed her a small scar where he’d put his teeth through his upper lip. “This wasn’t exactly on the job, but I fell asleep while moving a rig to Wyoming. It was like...three in the morning. I simply couldn’t keep my eyes open—and crashed into the back of our own water truck as we were all coming to a stop.”
She laughed. “Really?”
“Really. I was barely seventeen. Probably shouldn’t have been helping. I was missing a few days of school to do it. Fortunately, my lip only required three stitches, no one else was hurt and there was minimal damage to the equipment. But, man, did Stuart get mad. It’s not like I could just go to school and get involved in sports like other boys my age. He wanted me with him every extra moment—” He’d been about to tell her how Stuart demanded so much of his time and involvement in the business. But he let his words fade away because the smile had slid from her face, making him realize he’d inadvertently brought up a very touchy subject. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“To what?” she broke in, her voice slightly defensive if not outright belligerent.
She was pretending that what he’d said didn’t bother her, but it obviously did. He hadn’t meant to rub her nose in something so painful, but he couldn’t explain that to her because she had too much pride to even admit Stuart’s neglect still hurt.
“Nothing,” he said.
“I’m really tired and would like to get to bed,” she said. “But I’ve got a T-shirt that should fit you. You could wear it home. You could even keep it. I have no use for it. I’ll bring your shirt over tomorrow, once I’ve had a chance to finish washing it, if that’s okay.”
He’d told her he wanted to talk, to call a truce, and she’d seemed somewhat open to having that conversation. At least, she’d been curious about what he had to say. Now that was off the table. She’d shut down completely.
He wished he could take back his blunder, but it was too late. And thanks to Jordan the Dentist, it’d already been an emotional night. Maybe it would be smarter to back off, for now. “Okay,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”
Turning away, she went out and started digging through her drawers while he leaned against the doorjamb of her bathroom and watched her.
When she found what she was looking for, she brought it over and he pulled it on. It was a little too snug across the shoulders and in the sleeves, but it was fine for the trip home.
Being polite again—overlypolite, in his opinion—she thanked him for helping her as if he was a kind stranger and walked him to the front door. Those few seconds of feeling as though he was connecting with her—for the first time—were gone. He was trying to figure out what he could say to make everything right again but couldn’t decide how to go about that. He was afraid she wouldn’t give him the chance even if he could come up with a way to take back that thoughtless mention of Stuart.
“I’ll drop your shirt by tomorrow,” she reiterated as he stepped outside.
He turned to face her. “I hope you didn’t think Iintentionallybrought up a sore subject.” He’d merely been trying to share his experience. Couldn’t she tell? Or did it not matter? Was it because he was who he was and she wouldn’t forgive him for that, no matter how well he behaved?
“Of course not,” she said.
Discouraged by her brittle smile and stubborn courtesy, he drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’m leaving,” he said and walked away.
When he didn’t hear the door shut behind him, he knew she was watching him. He hoped she’d call him back so they could talk, after all. But she was probably waiting to see where he’d parked. No doubt she wanted to know why she hadn’t realized he was there before Jordan grabbed her.
Once he reached his truck, which he’d left down the road well beyond her place so that if she brought Jordan home he could get away without her ever knowing he was there, he looked back. She’d had to come all the way out onto the porch steps to see where he was going. But as soon as she realized he was looking at her, she hurried inside and the porch light went off.
Ellen climbed into bed and pulled the duvet up under her chin. The weight of the down feathers inside it felt reassuring at a time when her childhood seemed far too close. She hated the emotions any thought of the past evoked and tried to avoid the more difficult memories, but they snuck up on her every now and then.
In a last-ditch effort to distract herself tonight, she wondered if Jordan had gone back to the motel or left town. In his place, she would’ve been so humiliated she would’ve driven home immediately, despite the late hour. But as long as he left her alone, she didn’t really care one way or the other.
Which brought her back to Hendrix.Hewas the real issue. Having him in her house. Seeing him without his shirt while they were both in such a confined space. Feeling that strange sensation in the pit of her stomach when he smiled at her. What the heck was going on?
The answer to that question was obvious, but there was no way she could allow herself to be attracted to him. That would give him the upper hand, which was something she couldneverdo. She’d been so terribly hurt by her father. And Hendrix had always been party to that. She’d be a fool to trust him, even as a friend.
She had to admit she’d been lucky he was around when she got home, though. What had happened with Jordan wasn’t good. She had no idea where it would’ve ended without some sort of intervention. While it was possible the dentist would’ve stopped on his own, the opposite was also true.
But...what was Hendrix doing at her house in the first place? He must’ve walked closer after he’d parked down the street, where she’d seen him go when he was leaving, or he wouldn’t have heard her scream. And he’d done that because he wanted a few minutes with her to possibly call a truce?
