quickly and so well? By
the time he had finished speaking, Mary had tilted back her face to stare up at him, wide-eyed.
Looking at him while he spoke was almost like looking into a puddle of water. She could see the
image he created, but she was afraid to reach out and touch it? for fear that it would break into
ripples and disappear.
"'You paint a pretty seductive picture," she said unsteadily.
"You painted it, Mary." He traced the delicate skin under her eyes. ' I'm only telling you what I
see. And there was no place in that picture for Victor, was there?"
"No;"
His eyes crinkled at her. Soul-stealer's eyes; she could see herself, tiny and unblinking, overlaid
on the rich hazel. "No. Although I don't approve of his methods, I can't blame the guy for trying
to fit into it. Just don't cry over him anymore, all right?"
She smiled, and it was a gentle, more serene beginning.
"All right."
He kissed her on the forehead. It was such a simple, chaste caress she felt vaguely disappointed,
but also grateful that she wouldn't have to cope with more right now. "Cassie's taken a great
many liberties, I'm afraid. She not only called me, but she also called your home and told your
grandfather you were over here. And she's cooking dinner. So it's all arranged. You've got to stay
now or you'll disappoint her, and she'll ruin my evening."
She chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of doing that. I better go down and see if I can help."
"It stopped raining while you were asleep, so I'm to grill the hamburgers. Do you like beer?" Still
talking, he slipped an arm 'around her shoulders and walked with her down the stairs.
Cassie was chopping eggs, and the kitchen was filled with the homey smell of baking bread.
There was an apple pie ready for the oven on the counter. She looked up as Chance and Mary
appeared and blew a strand of curling red hair out of her eyes.
"There you are," she said comfortably as Chance went out back to light the charcoal. "Want to
tear up some spinach for the salad? What do you think-baked potatoes or French fries?"
"French fries, please," Mary said happily: and got ~w~. '
CHAPTER SIX
Mary’s grandfather was livid the next morning when she told him about Victor. Very much
gratified, she paused to collect her thoughts so that she could approach telling Tim in a much
more careful fashion, After all, Victor had been a part of Mary's life for a long time, and so, in a
smaller way, a part of Tim's.
She omitted the details about Cassie and told Tim that she and Victor had reached a point where
they had to decide whether they would continue to see each other or not, and they had decided
not to.
Tim, who had been fixing the gears of his bike in the garage, straightened slowly and asked, "Are
you all right, Mary?"
Her insides melted. He sounded so adult, so concerned. She hugged him tightly and said, "I'm
fine, really. It's all over, and that's kind of sad, but in a way it's good, too. Are you all right?"
He looked surprised. "Sure, why wouldn't I be? I never liked him all that much anyway. He
wasn't right for you, you know."
Mary closed her eyes, feeling a deep chagrin. Did everybody see that but me? She left her
brother to his tinkering and went inside to get ready for work. Her initial reluctance about going
to work had turned into an outright dread. But no matter how she felt about it, the E.R. was as
much her territory as it was Victor's, and she hadn't done anything wrong.
She didn't have to speak to him except professionally, and after she'd calmed down enough to
think about it, she suspected that he wouldn't try to speak to her. Victor wouldn't want to face the
possibility of a nasty private scene at the hospital. It wouldn't look good. People would talk.
She marched into the hospital that afternoon, reassured the nurses that she was feeling much
better now, and plunged into work. As she had thought, Victor avoided her, and while she didn't
enjoy the long hours any more than she
the time he had finished speaking, Mary had tilted back her face to stare up at him, wide-eyed.
Looking at him while he spoke was almost like looking into a puddle of water. She could see the
image he created, but she was afraid to reach out and touch it? for fear that it would break into
ripples and disappear.
"'You paint a pretty seductive picture," she said unsteadily.
"You painted it, Mary." He traced the delicate skin under her eyes. ' I'm only telling you what I
see. And there was no place in that picture for Victor, was there?"
"No;"
His eyes crinkled at her. Soul-stealer's eyes; she could see herself, tiny and unblinking, overlaid
on the rich hazel. "No. Although I don't approve of his methods, I can't blame the guy for trying
to fit into it. Just don't cry over him anymore, all right?"
She smiled, and it was a gentle, more serene beginning.
"All right."
He kissed her on the forehead. It was such a simple, chaste caress she felt vaguely disappointed,
but also grateful that she wouldn't have to cope with more right now. "Cassie's taken a great
many liberties, I'm afraid. She not only called me, but she also called your home and told your
grandfather you were over here. And she's cooking dinner. So it's all arranged. You've got to stay
now or you'll disappoint her, and she'll ruin my evening."
She chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of doing that. I better go down and see if I can help."
"It stopped raining while you were asleep, so I'm to grill the hamburgers. Do you like beer?" Still
talking, he slipped an arm 'around her shoulders and walked with her down the stairs.
Cassie was chopping eggs, and the kitchen was filled with the homey smell of baking bread.
There was an apple pie ready for the oven on the counter. She looked up as Chance and Mary
appeared and blew a strand of curling red hair out of her eyes.
"There you are," she said comfortably as Chance went out back to light the charcoal. "Want to
tear up some spinach for the salad? What do you think-baked potatoes or French fries?"
"French fries, please," Mary said happily: and got ~w~. '
CHAPTER SIX
Mary’s grandfather was livid the next morning when she told him about Victor. Very much
gratified, she paused to collect her thoughts so that she could approach telling Tim in a much
more careful fashion, After all, Victor had been a part of Mary's life for a long time, and so, in a
smaller way, a part of Tim's.
She omitted the details about Cassie and told Tim that she and Victor had reached a point where
they had to decide whether they would continue to see each other or not, and they had decided
not to.
Tim, who had been fixing the gears of his bike in the garage, straightened slowly and asked, "Are
you all right, Mary?"
Her insides melted. He sounded so adult, so concerned. She hugged him tightly and said, "I'm
fine, really. It's all over, and that's kind of sad, but in a way it's good, too. Are you all right?"
He looked surprised. "Sure, why wouldn't I be? I never liked him all that much anyway. He
wasn't right for you, you know."
Mary closed her eyes, feeling a deep chagrin. Did everybody see that but me? She left her
brother to his tinkering and went inside to get ready for work. Her initial reluctance about going
to work had turned into an outright dread. But no matter how she felt about it, the E.R. was as
much her territory as it was Victor's, and she hadn't done anything wrong.
She didn't have to speak to him except professionally, and after she'd calmed down enough to
think about it, she suspected that he wouldn't try to speak to her. Victor wouldn't want to face the
possibility of a nasty private scene at the hospital. It wouldn't look good. People would talk.
She marched into the hospital that afternoon, reassured the nurses that she was feeling much
better now, and plunged into work. As she had thought, Victor avoided her, and while she didn't
enjoy the long hours any more than she
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