The Village of Gerard's Cliff Page 10

  Chapter XI

  Allie stood glumly beside the door of the grocery store, a bag in each hand. She peered out through the store's fogged-up window into the drizzly November afternoon, searching for Connor's car. Why, oh why had she decided to let Connor drive her to the store. Idiot, she berated herself. She'd told him too much, exposed herself to him....a stranger. She had never talked in such a personal way with any of her guests - ever, she fumed. Even Tilda and Sarah, as long as she'd known them, were never privy to her most private thoughts. She sighed and chewed the inside of her lower lip, wishing he would hurry, so she could get this drive back to the inn over with. Well, she would just have to endure the ride home with him. She could do that. And when they got back to the inn, she would treat him with aloofness, until his vacation, or whatever it was, was over. What was he doing while she was getting groceries, she wondered. He had failed to mention that, she huffed. She was aggravated that he knew more about her than she did about him. He was rather vague about his life, now that she thought about it, while she, like an idiot, poured her heart out to him.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Allie saw Connor's black car appear out of the mist from a side road, then turn onto Main Street. It pulled up to the curb and stopped. She adjusted her jacket collar and juggled the bags in her hands, preparing to make a run for it, as the drizzle had turned into a downpour. To her surprise, the door opened, and Connor ran in, soaking wet. He stood dripping on the store's doormat for a moment, wiping his eyes with a wet hand.

  "I'll take those." Connor briskly grabbed the bags out of her hands. "You ready? Let's go." He pushed the door open with his shoulder, allowing her to run ahead of him. Allie ducked her head, and, squealing, ran to the passenger door, which she quickly opened. She hopped in, slammed the heavy door, then looked around to see Connor jumping in on his side with the two bags in one hand, his other hand reaching over to shut his door. They looked at each other, and then down at the soggy bags bunched between them. The bags were already splitting open, with a large celery stalk, and red and yellow peppers spilling out of one. Connor awkwardly tried to stuff them back into what was left of the bag, only to see it totally fall apart in his hands, the entire contents now spilling down onto the console, and floorboard. They were both shivering, drenched to the bone, their hair plastered to their heads, with icy cold rainwater dripping down their faces.

  Allie looked at Connor, and burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. She noticed that Connor was staring at her as if she were crazy, but she didn't care anymore. Then he joined in. Still laughing they wrapped the fruits and vegetables, as best they could, in what remained of the wet grocery bags, and deposited them in the back seat.

  She didn't mind the silence, as they drove back to the inn. She was thinking about how good it would feel to get her wet clothes off, and change into something dry and warm. The next order of business would be to make a roaring fire, snuggle in a big, fluffy blanket in the overstuffed chair, and drink a mug of steaming hot coffee. She could smell the aromas now. She glanced sideways at Connor, who, once they had left the village, never took his eyes off the road. These roads, with their many narrow twists and turns, were not easy to drive on in daylight, Allie knew, much less in a torrential downpour. The gray, cloudy sky made it seem like night time. Connor was not that familiar with the roads either, so she didn't want to interrupt his concentration. She watched the windshield wipers swish back and forth fruitlessly, as they barely made a dent in the solid wall of water that seemed never-ending. Allie much preferred snow to rain. At least, everything came to a standstill until a snowstorm was over. Everyone just stayed snug in their homes until it stopped, then emerged and dug themselves out. Rain in the winter just made everything muddy and messy.

  Thankfully, after what seemed like a very long, slow, and nerve-wracking drive home, Allie spied her home, and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Connor pulled up as close to the house as he could, parked, and shut off the engine. The rain had let up somewhat. Connor grabbed the wrapped groceries from the back seat, and they ran to the front porch, stomping their boots on the mat in front of the door. Allie unlocked the door, and entered her sanctuary.

  "Mmm..m.m." Allie leaned her head back as she felt the warmth of the room envelop her. "Home..." She noticed that Connor closed and locked the door, trying not to drop the soggy bag.

  "I'll put these in the kitchen for you." Connor started toward the dining area.

  "That's okay, I'm heading back that way anyway." Allie put her hand on his sleeve to stop him. "I'll take them." He turned, and fumbled with the awkward bundle, making sure nothing fell out, as he deposited it in her arms. "I'm going to change and make some coffee," she told him over her shoulder, as she headed toward the back of the house. "Wait..." She turned around to face him. "Have you had anything to eat since breakfast?" She wrapped her arms more tightly around the slippery bundle, and then, not waiting for a reply, she added, "I haven't, and I'm starved. How about a sandwich with the coffee?" Allie watched him, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, one hand on his hip. His head was tilted to one side, and he was staring at her seriously, his lips pursed.

  "Sure, that sounds good," he smiled, but Allie noticed a slightly puzzled look on his face.

  "Great." Allie turned, and carrying her tenuous bundle through the dining room, heard him climb the stairs. She laid the wet, paper-covered produce on the island, then headed back to her room. There, after removing her soggy clothes and boots, she changed into a pair of snug black sweatpants, a light gray sweatshirt, and thick, tan socks. She toweled her hair dry as best she could, then brushed it back, securing it with a rubber band. It felt so good to be warm, and dry, Allie could even see herself being civil to Connor. She had, in her mind, on the long drive home, reassessed their earlier conversation, and decided that she was not going to allow herself to feel vulnerable. Telling him personal things about herself did not make her a weak person, Allie reasoned. He actually might be good company on this miserable afternoon. She smiled as an image suddenly appeared in her head...Connor, in the car, soaking wet, laughing uproariously along with her, as they tried to gather up the fruits and vegetables that were tumbling about the front seat. Even his black eyebrows and eyelashes had drops of rain clinging to them, she recalled, and his mouth was.....Allie abruptly caught herself in mid-thought. Her hands, in the process of tying a filmy, rust colored scarf into a knot around her ponytail, paused. Allie looked at herself in the mirror, startled at herself for thinking such outrageous things about him. She vowed to herself that, from this moment on, she would only think of him as a guest at her inn. And, as Sarah had said, he was a mystery. Allie decided that, at some point, she would find out more about this mysterious Connor Garrison.

  Allie walked down the short hall outside her bedroom, and set her wet boots down on the black mat in front of the porch door. She padded through the kitchen into the dining room, with the intention of getting a fire started before she made lunch. As she approached the door to the front parlor, she was surprised to see Connor, down on his haunches in front of the fireplace, jabbing the metal poker into, from what she could see, a decent-looking fire. He seemed unaware of her presence, so she took the opportunity to lean on the white door frame, her arms folded across her chest, and observe him. He had changed into a rust and white plaid flannel shirt and she couldn't help but notice that his dark blue jeans hugged his upper legs as he leaned toward the fire, as he balanced on the white tennis shoes he now wore. His short hair was slicked back, and was still damp, making it appear a glossier black than usual. She watched him as he focused intently on the fire, his face lit by the growing flames. A smattering of sparks flew toward Connor, causing him to jerk his head back slightly. Without realizing it, Allie jumped and made a surprised "oh" sound. He turned his head and looked at her in surprise. She noticed, as she stood straight again and unfolded her arms, that his gaze moved very quickly from her eyes down to her feet and back again. He smiled,
his mouth slightly askew, as he returned his attention to stoking the fire.

  "It's taking a little longer to get this going than I anticipated." He eyed the fire ruefully.

  "It looks wonderful." Allie smiled back, "I'll be out in a minute with our sandwiches and coffee."

  She busied herself in the kitchen, first starting a pot of coffee in the smaller of the two coffeepots that sat side by side on the counter. She took two large brown rustic plates and matching mugs down from one of the white cupboards that lined the walls. After setting the mugs down by the coffeepot and the plates on the island, she gathered the makings for the sandwiches, and got to work at the island. Allie softly hummed one of her favorite opera arias, as she built the sandwiches and arranged them on the plates. She fetched the inn's large, white rectangular serving tray, upon which she placed two white linen napkins, the two plates, and the two cups, now filled with steaming black coffee. As an afterthought, she filled a carafe with the rest of the coffee. She grabbed the handles of the heavy tray, and headed out through the door.

  Allie noticed, as she entered the parlor, that Connor was now sitting in the over-stuffed chair to the left of the fireplace, his back to her. He sat with an elbow propped on one of the padded armrests, his jaw resting on his fist, apparently lost in thought as he stared at the fire. She walked slowly over to the fireplace, and set the tray down on a wide, brown leather ottoman, which sat between the two plump chairs.

  "I didn't realize I was so hungry." Connor leaned forward and appreciatively eyed the sandwiches. "This looks great. Thank you."

  "Thank you for the ride into town," she smiled. "It was quite an adventure!"

  They each took a napkin, plate, and mug of coffee, and settled into their chairs. Allie, her legs curled beneath her, balanced her plate on her lap, as she set the coffee down on the side table. She noticed that Connor was already starting in on the second half of his sandwich. She chewed a bite of her sandwich, and stared at the dancing flames.

  She took a sip of the hot coffee. "Connor, what do you do for a living?" She was genuinely interested. She watched him swallow the last bit of his sandwich.

  Connor blinked thoughtfully a couple of times as he swallowed, then wiped his mouth slowly with the napkin. He carefully placed it and the plate back on the tray, and retrieved his mug from the side table. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his legs, and took a long sip of his steaming coffee.

  "I work for the government in D.C." His expression was matter of fact. "But, I live outside the district...in Maryland."

  "That sounds interesting," she offered.

  "No, not really." Connor laughed, and leaned his cheek against his thumb and forefinger, his elbow on the armrest. He watched her and seemed to choose his words carefully. "Most of the time it's a boring desk job. You know...meetings, case studies, paperwork....more meetings. That sort of thing."

  "And the rest of the time?" She tilted her head as she held the steaming mug up to her lips.

  "And the rest of the time, I travel and research information that comes into our office."

  "Is that what you're doing here in Gerard's Cliff...when you go into the village? You're researching something for the government?"

  "Yes. Well.....actually, I'm on a working vacation..." Connor's voice trailed off, and he re-adjusted himself in the chair, seeming uncomfortable with her line of questioning. He scratched his temple.

  "I didn't think you were really just on vacation." Allie smiled at him. "Sarah, our maid, called you "the mystery man' after you gave her instructions not to enter your room," she laughed.

  "Hmm..m. Well, I'm glad I could help out with Sarah's suspicions." He smiled again, and set down his mug on the side table. "It's only fair you know what I do, Allie, since it's obvious I know your line of work." They stared at each other for a moment, and Allie realized he hadn't really answered her question. She thought he looked upset with himself. They both turned and stared at the fire.

  Feeling slightly disappointed, Allie got up from her chair, and put her plate and cup on the tray. As she leaned over to pick up the tray, Connor reached forward and grasped her wrist lightly. Startled, she looked down at his warm, strong hand, his long fingers wrapped around her thin wrist, then looked over at him, her ponytail falling forward over her shoulder, their faces level. She searched his eyes, feeling her throat tighten. She blinked, trying to keep her breathing normal. She couldn't speak.

  "Allie..." Connor's voice seemed strained.

  Allie watched him, transfixed, as he slowly studied her face, his blue eyes lingering over her eyes and lips, and she felt her pulse begin to race. Feeling confused, she turned her eyes downward, and started to stand up, still holding the tray. Connor released his hand from her wrist and stood up as well, looking as if he were going to apologize. Allie felt herself unable to move as she looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. She set down the tray, and moved closer to him, slipping her hand into his, looking up at him. He put his other arm around her waist and drew her to him.

  Allie watched, as if in a daze, as Connor's handsome face descended to hers. Her lashes fluttered as he lightly touched her lips with his, and she closed her eyes. Her hands traveled up his muscled arms to grasp his strong shoulders, as he put both hands around her waist, and gripped her even more tightly. Wondering why he wasn't kissing her again, Allie slowly opened her eyes, and saw him staring at her, with a smile that made her heart race. This time, when he kissed her, she felt her knees weaken, and he held her to him, supporting her.

  "Allie..." Connor held her, and breathed her name into her hair. They stood, holding each other, and then, to Allie's surprise, Connor released her. Grasping both of her arms, he held her a little away from himself, so he could see her face. "I didn't mean for this to happen." He seemed stricken. Still weak, Allie felt confused. This is where she wanted to be. What was he saying.

  "What do you mean?" she demanded, blinking at him in disbelief. She didn't understand. A minute ago, he was looking at her as if she were the most desirable woman on the planet...now he was telling her he was sorry?

  "Allie...it's too soon."

  "I know what you're referring to." Allie stood back from him with her hands clinched at her sides, finding her voice. "I think that's for me to decide, not you." More from hurt than anger, she glared at him. "Connor, I'm a grown woman...."

  "I know that.."

  "Then why are you doing this?"

  "It's...complicated."

  Allie raised her eyebrows at this. "You're married?" she asked, incredulously. What else would "complicated" mean?

  "No...No," he almost laughed. "No, I've never been married....well, to my work maybe." He scanned her face with a pained look in his blue eyes, which to Allie now seemed distant. "Allie, you just...have to trust me." He was groping for the right words now. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

  "Well, you've already failed on that account." Allie's words dripped with sarcasm as she walked past him to get the tray. Picking it up, she straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and turning, looked him straight in the eye. "But I'm fine. Don't give it another thought. Excuse me, I have a lot to do," she said to him in the most dismissive voice she could muster, as she swept past him, her eyes fixed on the dining room.

  Despite herself, Allie glanced back at him as she went through the dining room door. He stood in the same spot, his head bent....one hand was on his hip, the other was rubbing his brow. She turned back, and walked quickly to the kitchen. As she began the task of cleaning up from their lunch, she decided, that, tomorrow, when she had regained her composure, she would suggest that he leave. She would find him another place to stay. She didn't need this aggravation, she thought, fuming, fighting back stinging tears. She re-played in her head their conversation in the parlor.

  Never again, Allie vowed, never again.