He would never find out. The bathroom door slammed open, revealing a red-faced Emily. Steam practically shot out of her ears, though Michael followed behind with level-headed stoicism.
“You!” Emily’s voice ricocheted off the tiled bathroom walls. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m trying to help her.”
“Help her? I think you’ve done enough. Now, go.”
A protest shoved its way to the front of Clark’s brain. He abandoned all thoughts of confrontation. As much as he hated to admit it, Emily was right. He put Kate in a terrible position and let her fall. If he stayed, the chances of him screwing it up even further only grew.
“Of course. Thank you for coming to help.”
Awkwardly, he changed places with Emily. He walked his soaking wet body straight out of the bathroom and past Michael, without another word. The only thing he could do now was get himself cleaned up and wait.
About twenty minutes, a shower and a fresh set of clothes later, Clark found himself pacing outside of her bathroom door. He heard no sound, but it didn’t deter him. He’d wait as long as he needed to see her, to make sure she was all right.
He didn’t know how long he paced before a door down the hallway opened, revealing Emily. She hugged an oversized sweater to her chest.
“Is Kate all right?”
“She’s fine. I borrowed some old pajamas from a drawer and put her to bed. Is that okay?” When Clark nodded, Emily glanced over her shoulder to make sure the bedroom door from which she emerged remained closed before leveling her uncertain expression at him. “Listen. I gotta talk to you.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t like you. I mean…” She rolled her eyes. A sigh blew rough between her lips. “I didn’t like you. But Kate said you saved her from the river, is that true?”
Save. Clark knew how to destroy things. Subsidiaries and businesses. He knew how to dismantle them and sell off the parts. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable being described as a man who saved anything, much less a woman’s life. Much less Kate’s life. He wasn’t worthy of the distinction.
“She fell and I went in to get her,” he said, diplomatically.
“And carried her all the way here and did everything you could to make sure she was all right?”
Clark merely nodded. Slumping back against the nearest wall, and disturbing an ancient painting of Clark’s third great uncle Horace in the process, Emily released a long, low sigh of contradiction, not that Clark blamed her. He’d ridden into town, insulted everyone she knew, and gotten her friend almost killed. Him saving her life didn’t change or negate the other facts of their interactions. But he did save her life.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you. Kate sees something in you I just don’t. But I’m glad she was right.”
“What does she see in me?”
“…She sees a good man somewhere inside of you. I thought she was crazy, but maybe she’s onto something. She’s got a good eye for that sort of thing.”
It went entirely without saying that Emily thought Kate’s idea of Clark as a good man didn’t hold up to much scrutiny. He could accept that. He hadn’t exactly been a good friend to anyone in this town; he deserved their ire, at least where Kate was concerned. Everyone here held her in such high regard. If he failed her, he failed the town. If he saved her, they didn’t mind him quite so much. Before he could respond, Michael emerged from the door, backpack haphazardly slung over his shoulder.
“How is she? Can I see her?” Clark asked.
It was one thing to know someone was all right and quite another to see them with his own two eyes. Kate’s cold, unresponsive body haunted him; her smile could cure the sickening fear humming beneath his skin.
“I think we should let her sleep. She isn’t hypothermic, thanks to your help, but she needs to stay warm and rest. She needs a little bit of peace and quiet after everything she’s been through today.”
“Okay. Thank you.” An idea, a tentative, hesitant idea but an idea nonetheless. “Do you want to stay for Christmas?”
The pair shared a wary look.
“I’ll drop by tomorrow. We have some things to take care of in town.” They started to depart, but she stopped and turned before she went. “But thank you.”
Since arriving in Miller’s Point, Clark couldn’t think of anyone thanking him. They hated him. Made snarky comments behind his back. Criticized Kate for spending time with him. No one ever thanked him until that moment.
As it turned out, he enjoyed being liked more than he enjoyed being hated.
Chapter Ten
Kate didn’t know what Michael put in that hot chocolate, but it must have been stronger than morphine and tasteless as water. One minute, she shivered under the covers and warmed her hands against the walls of the steaming mug; the next, she woke from a dream (where she starred as an animated Who in one of those Grinch movies) with a slight start. As she blinked against the darkness, it took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened. The bedroom, with its crackling fireplace and slightly dusty fixtures—no one had been in here but the caretaker for almost a year now—engulfed her with its largeness. Kate cocooned herself in the warm covers, feeling more than a bit like Alice in Wonderland after downing the shrinking potion. Her entire apartment could fit in this one bedroom.
Against her better judgment, she had to wonder: how could a guy with a house like this be worried about money? Clark was, to put it mildly, a complete and total miser. A penny-pincher. The festival was just the visible tip of the iceberg. She’d even caught a glimpse into his car’s trunk during their trip to bring food to the families on the outskirts of town. He
