Page 22 of Colorado Christmas Carol
She sighed and shook her head. “Her dad is now going to introduce me to horse riding 101 on Sunday afternoon,” she said with a flash of angry eyes. “It’s going to be a very interesting day. I guarantee, Mellie is going to love it!”
He laughed softly when he saw the mischief in his new friend’s eyes. “Well!” He chuckled. “I wish I was going to be here to see it.”
“Oh, are you leaving?” she asked, and felt and sounded sad.
He was surprised and pleased. People didn’t usually miss him. He felt a deep sadness, an aching sorrow, for what might have been under different circumstances.
“You’re such a nice person, Essa,” he said after a minute. “I’ d have loved having you for a friend when I was younger.”
“What a nice thing to say!” she exclaimed, beaming. “Thank you. I . . . don’t really fit in well with most people. I’m always the outsider, the person sitting in a corner at parties.”
“That’s me, too.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t know each other years ago. We could have ganged up against the sarcastic people,” she said with dancing eyes.
He chuckled. “Yes, we could have.”
“If I give you my cell phone number, we could keep in touch.”
He looked shocked. “I would have loved that. But it’s unwise. On the other hand, your email might be possible. Could you write it down for me?”
“Sure!” She searched in her bag for the pad and pen she always kept for making notes on dishes when she changed the recipe. She wrote her email on a small sheet of paper and handed it to him. “How about yours?” she asked.
He studied her very carefully and saw nothing underhanded in the query. He laughed at his own suspicion. “I’ll write to you first, how about that?”
She grinned. “That would be nice. I don’t meet many people that I don’t want to lose track of, if you get my meaning,” she added ruefully.
“That’s me, too,” he confessed.
He checked his watch. “Well, I have things to do, and I have to pack. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow. If I don’t see you again, it’s been really nice, knowing you.”
“It’s the same with me.” She studied him long and hard, sensing the anguish in him, the sense of failure, of incompleteness. “I hope life is kinder to you on the road ahead,” she said softly. “Much kinder.”
He drew in a long breath. “That’s not likely. But thank you for the sentiment. Always be aware of your surroundings,” he added suddenly. “Safety is an illusion. You’re never safe.”
She laughed. “You sound like that old pioneer saying, ‘If you do not see any enemies, then they are the thickest. ’ ”
He smiled, but he didn’t laugh. “They’re right, you know. There are enemies all around, and they aren’t always obvious. Never take safety for granted.”
“I don’t,” she said.
He cocked his head and studied her. She wasn’t really pretty, but inside, she was beautiful. “I’m sorry and glad to go,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”
“You do the same,” she said gently.
He gave her one long, last look and went on down the stairs.
* * *
When she got to the top of the staircase, Duke was watching.
She drew even with him, curious.
“Is he leaving?” he asked.
She nodded. “On Sunday.” She looked up at him. “He asked if Mellie might want to go out with him Sunday. I told him we were going riding with you.”
He drew in a short breath. “If you see her when I’m not around, will you watch her for me, so that she doesn’t sneak out?”
