Hard Habit to Break (15 page)

“But I thought you’d like it,” he said in a confused voice. He started to walk around the divider.

“Stay right where you are!” she ordered him. He stopped, gazing at her with growing frustration. “Oh, I like it all right, Callahan. I like never receiving a phone call to tell me where you are, let alone what you’re doing. And I love the humiliation of crying on your shoulder about Millie, and you never opening your mouth to say: ‘I’ve got a great idea, and what do you think, Liz?’ ”

“I wanted—”

“Let me speak! You’ve yelled at me, and when you weren’t yelling, you were kissing me. You turned my emotions upside down until I was a dish of Jell-O. You made me risk my job and my promotion by making me act as crazy as you do.” She shook a finger at him, not caring what she said just as long as she said it. “Well, let me tell you something, Matthew Callahan! You’d better find some other village idiot to fall in love with you, because I have had enough! Now, please leave!”

“Liz!”

“Just get out!”

Angry and hurt, she unthinkingly stalked past the open gate in the divider and out the front door.

“He made a fool of me,” Liz muttered without a glance at where she was going. She clenched her hands into tight fists. “He’s been making a fool of me ever since he moved next door! Of all the humiliating things to do to a person! That was the final straw.”

Still muttering out loud, she was across the town’s common and halfway down Lincoln Street before she began to calm down, and she remembered
Matt
was supposed to have made the grand exit from the bank.

“Great,
just
great!
damn, daaammmnnn
!” she wailed, jerking to a halt in front of Hopewell’s only church.

She covered her face with shaking hands. Of all the dumb, idiotic things to do, she thought frantically. How could she have been so stupid? Matt was probably back at the bank, laughing his fool head off.

“Oh, Lord!” she gasped in horror. “The bank!”

She whipped around and started running back up Lincoln Street, shame momentarily giving way to panic at the thought of having left the bank unattended. At the corner of Lincoln and the common, she skidded to a second, even more abrupt halt, one of her heels catching in a crack in the sidewalk. She tripped once before catching herself and straightening.

If she were
very, very
lucky, he wouldn’t have left, she thought. But then she would have the humiliation of facing him after doing something so stupid.

She looked across the common for Matt’s car. She instantly stopped herself.

“I don’t want to know,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

Realizing that Matt was a responsible citizen, and knowing in her heart that he’d never leave her in such a predicament, she snapped her eyes open and looked across to the bank.

The Corvette was still in front of the bank’s red brick facade, but evidently not for long. Panic and relief washed through her when she saw Matt striding around the front of the car.

Surprised that he’d leave the bank empty and unlocked before her return, she ran as fast as she could across the street and onto the common. Absently hitching her straight skirt of beige linen up her thighs with one hand, she ran impossibly fast until she almost flew over the grass. She didn’t even bother wasting time or breath by shouting to get his attention.

But before she could reach him he was inside
the car. It immediately roared to life, and with a squeal of tires, zoomed away from the curb to disappear around the corner.

While crossing the street on the other side of the common, she wondered in disbelief how he could leave the bank like that.

She’d never seen signs of his irresponsibility before, she realized. Had he been irresponsible all along, but she’d been too intrigued by his crazy charm to see it? When she’d needed him to cover for her, he’d let her down. He knew that she was responsible for whatever happened at the bank, and he’d just up and left.

Reaching the bank’s double doors, she yanked the right one open and half-ran inside … and skidded to a stop at the sight of Mr. Seaver, the postmaster, smiling kindly at her from one of the lobby chairs.

“Everything okay now?” he asked, rising to his feet.

Huffing, she stared at him and nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Matt told me you thought you’d left your car radio on. I did that one night—funny, how you forget about those things, isn’t it? Didn’t hurt the battery though. You shouldn’t have any problem, Liz. I was a little surprised that you came back in through the front instead of the back.”

“The back?” she repeated while trying to calm herself enough to think properly. Matt must have seen her car wasn’t in front and used it as an excuse to explain her absence. Grateful that Mr. Seaver evidently hadn’t noticed she’d walked to work that morning, she took a deep breath and
replied. “Oh. The back. The door locks automatically, and I never thought to take the keys.” She swallowed and asked, “Where’s Matt?”

“Millie wasn’t feeling well, and he wanted to get her home. I just happened to be passing by on my way home from the post office, and he asked me to wait for you. Been nice and peaceful, you’ll be glad to know.”

“I see.” She tried to smile. “Thanks, Mr. Seaver. I really appreciate it.”

He chuckled. “Can’t have anyone robbing the bank while you’re not here. I better be going, so you can get home yourself.”

After the elderly man had left, Liz firmly locked the doors and patted them in relief. She checked to make sure everything was in order in the bank, that the time vault had been locked and set. Then she gathered up her things from her desk and made her way to the back door. Stepping into the warm afternoon sunlight, she closed the door behind her, smiling to herself as it gave a satisfying click.

Her smile faded when she caught sight of the empty employee parking spaces behind the bank. Matt had left her a shred of dignity when he’d had Mr. Seaver watch the bank, she thought, slowly walking down the asphalt-covered alley. But he hadn’t left her much else. No pride, no common sense. No love.

She moaned, hoping the sudden, vague memory she had of her telling him to find somebody else to fall in love with him was a figment of her imagination. “Oh, Lord, I didn’t! I couldn’t have!”

But she heard herself shouting at him to “find
some other village idiot to fall in love with you” as clearly as she could hear the DeNato children playing in their backyard on the other side of the alley. Of all the things she could have said, she had said that! Her face flamed scarlet as her mind instantly replayed the whole scene, even to the details of the baby blue T-shirt Matt had worn under his raw silk blazer. And the terrible hurt returned as she remembered her days of worry while he’d been gallivanting around like a white knight on his faithful charger to save Millie’s farm.

She should have been on that charger herself! At least she should have been on it with him, she corrected herself reluctantly. But the man had used her. She had shared her concerns with him, and he had tossed them away as if they had been a late notice from the phone company. Could she forgive that?

Liz walked the rest of the way home. And as she did, her pride never allowed her to spare a glance at the profusion of blooming roses in almost every garden.

Less than twenty-four hours later Liz blessed that little shred of dignity Matt had given her yesterday. It had played on her conscience all evening while she sat barricaded in her house. It had niggled at her all morning during the monthly meeting at the bank’s central office in Swanton.

Now, as she drove along the lonely country road on her way back to Hopewell, she had nothing to do but think. To her left, behind a low stone wall, cows grazed under the late July sun. On the right,
in straight, furrowed rows, the future harvest sprouted. An occasional copse of trees in full green foliage broke into the endless vista of rolling hills. In the distance the razor-sharp peaks of the Green Mountains rose up in a natural barrier, separating one side of Vermont from the other.

Liz usually found the scene soothing, but she realized that it wasn’t helping her now. Her mind was too full of Matt.

With a grimace she decided Matt
should
have been the one waiting for her at the bank. She had deserved the full and total humiliation of slinking back to face his laughter. Then she wouldn’t be feeling this tremendous guilt.

“The clown who said, ‘Pride goeth before a fall,’ at least could have mentioned how high the cliff was,” she muttered, then sighed in despair.

Matt had unselfishly given help where she couldn’t, but she’d been too proud to acknowledge that fact. It had taken all night and most of the morning before she’d finally realized how juvenile she’d been the day before.

How selfish and ungrateful she must have sounded yesterday. From the beginning Matt had always considered her feelings, had understood the things that were important to her. He’d made every effort to give her time to accept what had been happening between them. He’d asked only that she not shut him out.

Such a small request, Liz thought. And one she’d disregarded from the beginning. A modern woman had every right to demand a man treat her as his equal, in business and in love. But she had no right to trample on the poor guy when he
was doing his best in the equality department. And a modern woman ought to apologize when she recognized how unfairly she’d treated her man.

Liz swallowed. That was the problem. It wasn’t easy to apologize to Matt after she’d told him she loved him in one breath—and to take a flying leap in the next.

But she’d do it. She owed him a big apology, and if banking had taught her one thing, it was to pay her debts. It just took a little courage, she told herself, while her insides shrank at the thought. She’d do it tonight, right after work. On the other hand, maybe she ought to wait until tomorrow. Then she’d have all night to find the perfect words, so he’d have no other choice but to forgive her.

She made a face. Okay, so she was a first-class coward.

Her reflections were diverted by the sight of a white car parked on the side of the road by the stone wall. She leaned forward and peered through the windshield, trying to make out if someone was stranded and needed help, or if it was a tourist who had just stopped to admire the view. Keeping in mind the many news stories of faked stranded motorists, she had no intention of stopping herself—she acted like an idiot only where Matt was concerned—but she would send back help if it were needed.

As she swiftly drew closer, Liz tensed. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were pale. The white car was beginning to look familiar. Too familiar.

“It couldn’t be!” she exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

To her dismay, she recognized Matt’s Corvette. And Matt, leaning against the wall. Panic flashed through her, and she wondered wildly if she could get away with passing by as if she hadn’t seen him. She knew it would be the dumbest, most childish stunt yet with him, but why break her record now?

Sternly telling herself to act like an adult for once, Liz immediately slowed her car. When she reached his car, she turned the wheel slightly and rode the grass shoulder, stopping behind the Corvette. Her courage shriveling, she reminded herself that she was a grown woman who could make a simple apology for her poor behavior. That she had confessed her love didn’t matter. She’d probably lost him anyway with her infantile antics.

With monumental will she opened the car door and slid out. Matt never turned from his perusal of the empty pasture. She shut the door behind her and drew in a deep breath. It didn’t help.

Trying to find a thread of bravery within her, Liz stared at his tanned, leanly handsome profile. His hair was brushed off his forehead as usual, and the brown curls glinted in the sunlight. His beard seemed redder than ever, and she knew how sensual it felt against her skin whenever and wherever he kissed her. From the side his expression was brooding, but it only enhanced his perfect features. The white T-shirt he wore outlined his spine before disappearing into a pair of faded jeans that were molded to his lean buttocks and thighs. His shoulders were hunched slightly as
his sinewy forearms rested on the top of the stone wall, and she could see the bold definition of his muscles under his sun-darkened skin. The hands that had drowned every inch of her body in indescribable sensations were clasped loosely in front of him.

He was absolutely beautiful, she thought in awe. The perfect man in face and form.

She suddenly realized that lately she had been repressing her awareness of his physical appearance. Instead, she must have been unconsciously concentrating on Matt the man in the hopes of discovering inner flaws. And she’d found a few. He was arrogant, but it was a tender arrogance. He was demanding, but that was tempered by gentleness. He was stubborn to the point of exasperation, and yet he was always willing to make concessions.

Well, maybe only one, Liz admitted in a brief moment of amusement. She, unfortunately, had been stubborn enough for the both of them. Matt wasn’t perfect, no human being ever was, but he was a far better person than she. A little crazy, too, but that was what she loved most about him.