Page 25 of Rainshadow

When she saw Ethan walking, coatless, his white shirt fluttering and his fine, silvery blond hair blowing around his neck and face, she was relieved. Sylvia looked asleep in the barn when she put away the last of the feed and supplies from the car, and then she went out to meet Ethan where he stood at the cliffside, his hands in his pockets. Flora walked to meet him andonly then looked over the cliffside. Bane was not there. He had drifted away, or been removed.

“Oh, hello,” he shouted over the sound of the wind and the sea crashing on the rocks below. “Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I guess I need to go home.”

“Beautiful night,” he said, looking out at the stormy black clouds that bled into the total darkness of the sea.

“If you say so,” Flora said, pulling her coat tight around her.

“Let me drive you home,” Ethan said, looking at her. “You can’t walk in this weather.”

“Where did you work before?” Ethan asked her, driving slowly as the rain picked up.

He wasn’t being careful, Flora thought. He was prolonging his time with her.

“I worked downtown,” she said, “at that grocery store.”

“Right. King’s Market.”

“I liked it there well enough,” she said. “But the owner’s son…” She didn’t go on, just looked out of the window and took a deep breath.

“You… dated him?”

Flora snorted. “No, god no,” she said. “He wanted to date me, but he tried to… sleep with me, I guess, then got me fired when I didn’t reciprocate.”

“He tried to… force you?” There was something in Ethan’s voice, a coiled serpent of anger.

She was going to correct him. Matt had been a jerk, but he had not tried to rape her or anything. Ethan’s voice though, the protectiveness in it, warmed something inside of her. She wanted more of it, the feeling that he cared about her, was upset on her behalf.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking out of the car window so she didn’t have to meet his eye when he glanced over. “I’m ok, though,” she insisted, forcing herself to sound brave. “I’m fine.”

They drove for a while in silence.

“What was his name again?”

“Matt King,” Flora said, as though it were painful for her to repeat the name.

Ethan stared straight ahead and drove onward, toward her home.

When she slipped inside of the bus, her mother was up, waiting for her.

“Well,” Maureen said, looking up at her, her eyes bright and cold. “Look who it is.”

“Hi, Mom,” Flora said, glancing around, like there may be some clue as to why her mother was waiting for her.

“I got a call today.”

“Oh?”

“From the Seattle Police Department.”

Flora stared at her mother. Her heart thumped. What had she been thinking, giving them her home phone number?

“They asked for you, said they were wondering if you could come in for an interview.”

“Really?” Flora’s face brightened.

“Oh, Flora,” Maureen said, shaking her head. “Mounted police? Really? You?”

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