“What’s up? Are you ready to return to civilization yet?”
“The lodge up here doesn’t have a phone. I’m in a town called Thelma.”
“Listening to lousy country music, if I’m hearing the background noise right.” He laughed easily.
“I was planning to come back sooner, but something came up. A couple of things.” She had no idea where to begin, what to tell him, what was fair. An injured eagle? An unresolved past? A sudden need to look into a part of herself she had kept in the dark for years?
“Having second thoughts, babe?” Anthony asked.
She could discern no inflection in his voice. She tried to picture him—he was probably wearing khakis or jeans, in his pristine Santa Fe–style condo on Western Avenue, drinking a beer from a microbrewery and being paged every sixty seconds while channel surfing on his forty-eight-inch TV.
She tried to remember the last time they had shared a bottle of wine and just listened to music for a few uninterrupted hours. She tried to remember the last time they had gone dancing.
“Isabel?” he prompted.
“Anthony, I just don’t know. Saturday, I saw our whole lives rolling out ahead of us like a giant red carpet. But now—”
“Now what?” Still she heard no sharpness in his voice, just curiosity.
“Maybe the red carpet took a left turn somewhere. I’m having to take a good look at myself, Anthony, and—”
“Just a sec. I have another call coming in.” He clicked off.
She stood staring at the telephone keypad, wondering whether or not she had a right to be irritated.
“Okay.” Anthony was back. “I’ve got someone on hold. Long-distance.”
She was leaning heavily toward being irritated now.
“So what do you want to do?” he asked. “Postpone the wedding? Call it off?”
She felt the burn of tears in her eyes. “Your family has everything all planned—”
“My family,” he said. “That’s really what all this is about, isn’t it? That’s what it’s always been about.”
“I adore your family, Anthony. I’d hate myself if I disappointed them.”
“Yeah, well, look. You do whatever it is you have to do to get your head straight, and call me tomorrow, okay, babe?”
“Yes, but—”
“I better take this other call. Talk to you soon.” He was gone with a gentle click.
Isabel stood with the receiver still held to her ear andleaned her forehead against the cold, shiny metal of the pay phone. She’d believed she belonged with Anthony. She had thrived on the fast pace of his lifestyle, and he had seemed eager to move to Bainbridge Island in order to be with her.
But his abruptness and bland reaction had seemed exaggerated in their phone conversation. Perhaps it was the odd juxtaposition of hearing Anthony’s voice in a fire hall in Thelma. Or perhaps it was the things Clyde had said about Dan still echoing in her ears.
According to Clyde, Dan had saved the tribal council—the whole town, for that matter—from financial collapse. The lodge enterprise had employed people who hadn’t had jobs in years.
Of course, Clyde had said cautiously, Dan had run through a lot of his own money getting started. A lot of money.
The rapid-fire beep of the off-the-hook-phone signal startled her. She quickly replaced the receiver in the cradle and turned.
Dan stood a few feet back, watching her.
The sight of him made the breath catch in her throat. He had always been easy in his tall, broad-shouldered frame, and he seemed so now, with his weight shifted to one leg and a thumb stuck into his belt. He was backlit by the muted lamps in the hall so that she could not see his face, only the inky waves of his long hair.
He was too far away to have heard her conversation, yet she felt a heated blush rise in her cheeks as if she had been caught doing something wrong.
Ridiculous. He was the whole reason she was in this dilemma. If it had not been for him, she would still bein the bosom of the Cossa family, getting ready for her
“The lodge up here doesn’t have a phone. I’m in a town called Thelma.”
“Listening to lousy country music, if I’m hearing the background noise right.” He laughed easily.
“I was planning to come back sooner, but something came up. A couple of things.” She had no idea where to begin, what to tell him, what was fair. An injured eagle? An unresolved past? A sudden need to look into a part of herself she had kept in the dark for years?
“Having second thoughts, babe?” Anthony asked.
She could discern no inflection in his voice. She tried to picture him—he was probably wearing khakis or jeans, in his pristine Santa Fe–style condo on Western Avenue, drinking a beer from a microbrewery and being paged every sixty seconds while channel surfing on his forty-eight-inch TV.
She tried to remember the last time they had shared a bottle of wine and just listened to music for a few uninterrupted hours. She tried to remember the last time they had gone dancing.
“Isabel?” he prompted.
“Anthony, I just don’t know. Saturday, I saw our whole lives rolling out ahead of us like a giant red carpet. But now—”
“Now what?” Still she heard no sharpness in his voice, just curiosity.
“Maybe the red carpet took a left turn somewhere. I’m having to take a good look at myself, Anthony, and—”
“Just a sec. I have another call coming in.” He clicked off.
She stood staring at the telephone keypad, wondering whether or not she had a right to be irritated.
“Okay.” Anthony was back. “I’ve got someone on hold. Long-distance.”
She was leaning heavily toward being irritated now.
“So what do you want to do?” he asked. “Postpone the wedding? Call it off?”
She felt the burn of tears in her eyes. “Your family has everything all planned—”
“My family,” he said. “That’s really what all this is about, isn’t it? That’s what it’s always been about.”
“I adore your family, Anthony. I’d hate myself if I disappointed them.”
“Yeah, well, look. You do whatever it is you have to do to get your head straight, and call me tomorrow, okay, babe?”
“Yes, but—”
“I better take this other call. Talk to you soon.” He was gone with a gentle click.
Isabel stood with the receiver still held to her ear andleaned her forehead against the cold, shiny metal of the pay phone. She’d believed she belonged with Anthony. She had thrived on the fast pace of his lifestyle, and he had seemed eager to move to Bainbridge Island in order to be with her.
But his abruptness and bland reaction had seemed exaggerated in their phone conversation. Perhaps it was the odd juxtaposition of hearing Anthony’s voice in a fire hall in Thelma. Or perhaps it was the things Clyde had said about Dan still echoing in her ears.
According to Clyde, Dan had saved the tribal council—the whole town, for that matter—from financial collapse. The lodge enterprise had employed people who hadn’t had jobs in years.
Of course, Clyde had said cautiously, Dan had run through a lot of his own money getting started. A lot of money.
The rapid-fire beep of the off-the-hook-phone signal startled her. She quickly replaced the receiver in the cradle and turned.
Dan stood a few feet back, watching her.
The sight of him made the breath catch in her throat. He had always been easy in his tall, broad-shouldered frame, and he seemed so now, with his weight shifted to one leg and a thumb stuck into his belt. He was backlit by the muted lamps in the hall so that she could not see his face, only the inky waves of his long hair.
He was too far away to have heard her conversation, yet she felt a heated blush rise in her cheeks as if she had been caught doing something wrong.
Ridiculous. He was the whole reason she was in this dilemma. If it had not been for him, she would still bein the bosom of the Cossa family, getting ready for her
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