Forbidden Falls

“The rule is, if I open the subject, you can ask questions,” he told her. “My father is a lot like Arnold Gunterson. Arbitrary. Low tolerance. Rigid and unemotional. He used to ground me all the time for little stuff. The punishment never fit the crime. I’d have to give up football because I was a half hour late on my curfew—and I had the earliest curfew in town. I lost summer camp when I was about ten because I didn’t curl the garden hose right.”

“Holy moly,” she said. She ate a forkful of mashed potatoes. “That’s a little over the top.”

“Well…He did trip on the hose,” Noah said. “But still, that’s kind of a no-TV punishment, not four weeks of summer camp. I mean, it didn’t kill him or even break any bones.”

She grinned at him. “Like you wished.”

“He’s a bastard, Ellie. My mother was a plain, sweet woman on her way to being an old maid when a poor young minister married her for her money. And made her life miserable from that moment on.”

“She told you that?”

“She didn’t have to tell me. I have no evidence, but I’m pretty sure he screwed around on her their whole marriage. He was frequently in the company of pretty, young women and it tore her heart out.”

“That’s awful, Noah,” she said. She reclined on the floor, her long legs out to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder while she ate. “Anyone who doesn’t go to his daughter-in-law’s funeral would be a bastard in my book.”

Noah looked down uncomfortably. “Dammit, I can’t lie. That was my fault. He wasn’t invited to my wedding, which was small and private, and I made sure he found out about Merry’s death, but he didn’t hear it from me. I had a secret agenda—if he came and was kind, I’d give him another chance. He didn’t. And I didn’t.”

Ellie’s fork was hovering in midair, her mouth slightly open. “Wow,” she finally said. “Are there a lot of people you have these kind of secret deals with?”

“Only him. And only once.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” she said. “So, were you in trouble as a kid?”

“When I was young, I tried my hardest to be the best kid in the universe and could still never do anything right. So when I hit about sixteen, I gave up trying to be good and started being as bad as possible. I really regret that. I hurt my mother.”

“What kind of bad things did you do?”

“Oh, you don’t really want to know…”

She smiled. “Oh, I really do!”

“I lied. I hustled girls, and not with pure thoughts. I drank too much. Had a couple of fender benders because I was driving too fast. Skipped school to go out to the lake with friends. That kind of thing.”

“Steal any cars? Get anyone pregnant? Do hard drugs?”

“Nah.”

“Then you weren’t really trying,” she said with a laugh. “So, if you got punished for little stuff, what did the old man do to you for getting drunk and wrecking cars?”

He smiled as if this was one of his few happy memories. “He almost lost his mind. He threatened to send me to boarding school, but I think we both knew no one would keep me for long while I was on that particular course. I was pretty incorrigible. Plus, I remember it was one of the few times my mother really stood up to him—she said, ‘Over my dead body, Jasper!’ It was fantastic. But eventually he packed me off to seminary. It didn’t work. I quit and went to Seattle where I tried to stay away from Bible studies.” He took a drink of beer. “So—were you in trouble a lot?”

She shook her head. “Never. Well, I missed some classes from oversleeping, but I worked late. My one big screwup was getting pregnant. I felt just terrible about that. My gramma was so sweet, but I really felt like I’d let her down. And then when Jason was killed, even though my life was a disaster, I was glad for the baby. Jason was sweet. A good boy. We’d dated since I was about fourteen. I guess in the end, there were just too many hormones between us.”

“You must have thought you were in love,” Noah said.

“You’re damn skippy,” she said. “I sure haven’t felt that way since. We had it bad. We had big plans, too. Well, probably they wouldn’t seem big to you…”

When her voice trailed off, Noah prodded. “What kind of plans?”

“Hmm,” she said, thinking. “Jason had this really good job in construction. He poured cement—he made a good living for a nineteen-year-old. He lived at home with his folks, so he had money to burn. But he saved and saved. For us. We were going to get married after I graduated, live in something small and work hard, and then after a few years, we were going to buy a house. Two stories, big yard, nice neighborhood. Not fancy, you know, but real nice. To me it would’ve been like a castle. Then the first baby a couple of years later…That would have brought me to about today.”

“Those sound like nice plans,” Noah said.

“He drove the motorcycle most of the time because it was cheap. The only reason I wasn’t on the back when that car hit him was because he wouldn’t let me ride anymore. Because I was pregnant.” She looked down. “You would’ve liked him.”

“He looked out for you the best he could,” Noah said. “You must’ve been real proud of him.”

The give-and-take went on through dinner. It didn’t surprise Noah at all that Ellie told him anything he wanted to know—she had been that way since the minute they met. She was unflinchingly honest. What surprised him was that he was so open. He rarely spoke about his father, and he only talked about Merry with their close mutual friends. “She was the sexiest, funniest girl in Seattle. I was twenty-seven, she was twenty-five, and she was not interested in some Goody Two-shoes who studied religion.”

“She told you that?” Ellie asked, laughing.

“She did. She said it was her opinion religion got in the way of faith and she thought most religions did more harm than good. So I promised her that I’d teach and counsel. Maybe just get a Ph.D. That way she’d never have to be stuck with a good-goody minister. And she said I would still be a man, and that would be burden enough.”

“I like her.”

“I couldn’t resist her. She was maddening. Exciting. Beautiful. So funny she almost made me forget I was nurturing a private rage against my father.”

“When do you suppose you’ll get tired of that?”

“I was hoping to be done with it by now. I think I was moving away from that when I found Merry. And when I lost her, I got mad all over again.”

“Well, duh,” Ellie said. “Noah, losing someone you love is supposed to make you mad. First you don’t believe it, then you get pissed. Aren’t you the one with the big education?”

After more talking, they picked up the dishes and washed and dried them companionably. And as Ellie dried the last pie plate, the towel slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.

“Got it,” he said, bending to pick it up. Just as she bent to pick it up.

Both of them were bent at the waist, reaching for the towel. Their faces came so close together, his cheek was nearly touching her cheek, his chin hooked over her shoulder. And when she could have moved away, he grabbed her upper arms in a firm but gentle grasp and said, very softly, “Don’t. Don’t move for a second.” And then slowly, carefully, he straightened with her until they stood, facing each other, his cheek against her cheek. “Be still. For just one minute,” he whispered. “Please.”

He let his cheek press gently against hers. Noah held her arms, but not tightly. If she wanted to pull back, pull away, she wouldn’t have a problem. But she didn’t, so he let his eyes gently close and inhaled deeply. She wasn’t wearing perfume; she smelled of soap and shampoo and dust and woman, the first woman he’d been this close to in quite a while. Her body was soft against his, though he resisted the temptation to pull her hard against him.

Yet he stood there, unable to break away. He breathed her in. Her arms remained at her sides, passive, and he just inhaled her. He enjoyed the velvety softness against his cheek; he thought maybe she was far softer and silkier than the average woman. He enjoyed the feeling of the smooth skin of a woman against his rougher skin. Why didn’t she pull away? He lifted a hand from her upper arm to her face and placed his palm against her other cheek, just absorbing the sweet, delicate warmth, the texture, the scent that was only her.

At least a minute had passed. Maybe two minutes.

It’s just an affectionate hug, he told himself. Not a big deal.

But when he stepped back, he looked into her large brown eyes and said, “I apologize. That was probably inappropriate.”

“Probably,” she said. “You being my boss and all.”

“I won’t do that again,” he promised. “It’s just that—” Words seemed to fail him.

“Just that you wanted to be close to someone?” she supplied.

To you. “I did,” he said, relieved that she had an explanation.

“But I let you, Noah. Don’t you go thinking you can get away with things.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t start thinking I’m easy.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her. She looked about one inch away from biker chick and she’d been through the school of hard knocks, but there was something just plain pure about her. “You haven’t been the least bit easy since the minute I met you.”

“I think it was all that talk about your wife, Merry,” she said. “I know you miss her. And miss being close to a woman in general.”

“I doubt that’s it,” he said. “Merry’s been gone five years. I’ve been close to a woman or two since then.”

“Just the same, you should think about it,” Ellie said. “You don’t want to get your feelings all mixed up. You don’t want to start thinking you like me in a certain way when all you’re really feeling is lonesome. Which is natural. Easy to understand.”

“Maybe you should be the counselor.”

“I mean, if we’re going to work together—”

Noah’s good sense took a hike. He put his hands on her narrow waist, pulled her close and covered her mouth with his. A little squeak of surprise escaped her, but it only took her a second to settle against his lips. Her hands slid up onto his shoulders and his tightened around her waist. He tilted his head to a new angle and rocked against her mouth, gently parting her lips. And he groaned in pure pleasure.

Ellie was lost in his kiss; his lips were so strong and soft, his mouth so deep and wet, his arms firm and confident. And, oh, she hadn’t been kissed like this in her life. He left her lips for just a split second, long enough to look down into her startled eyes, and then he was on her mouth again, pulling her tight against him, bending her back with his hunger. She welcomed his tongue, joined him with hers, and her arms rose to circle his neck. And they rocked together, body to body, mouths together, tongues entwined, breathing coming harder and deeper. She liked this kiss, she thought. But this is not a good thing.

At long last he broke from their kiss, gazing into her eyes, and she asked, “Can you fire me for letting you kiss me? Because you know I need this job.”

“No,” he said softly. “You can probably sue me. But you’ll end up with an old RV and a dog. An expensive dog.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I should never have let you…”

“How can you taste like strawberries when you had brisket, beer and apple pie?” he asked her.

“It’s not me, Noah. You’ve just been lonely…”

He lifted one expressive brow. “Is that so? And what’s your excuse?”