The Virgin Mistress (14 page)

“Don't answer it!”

It wasn't until she heard herself speak sharply in the dark that she realized she was cowering in her bed as if she expected him to reach through the phone and grab
her. And that infuriated her. What was he doing to her? What was she
letting
him do to her?

Furious with him and herself, she snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

“Rebecca? Are you all right?”

For a moment, nothing registered except that her caller was a man, just as she'd feared. Then she recognized Austin's voice. “Austin!” Wilting, she swallowed a shaky sob. “I'm sorry. Yes, I'm fine. The phone just startled me.”

“I know it's late, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was afraid you wouldn't be able to sleep, but I guess I woke you. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no,” she assured him, “don't apologize. Trust me, I was awake.”

“I was afraid of that. Would you like to talk about it?”

After avoiding the subject all evening, she would have sworn she didn't. But as she snuggled back down in bed with his soft, husky voice in her ear, she somehow felt safer than she had in a very long time and the words just came tumbling out. “When the phone rang, I thought it was him, and I was furious that I was scared. I'm just so tired of being scared.”

“It's been a long time, hasn't it?”

“As long as I can remember,” she replied simply. “When I was a little girl, my mother would go out drinking at night and leave me at home by myself.”

“My God, how old were you?”

She shrugged. “Six or seven.”

“You must have been terrified!”

“I was.”

“And your mother didn't care?”

“She didn't care about anything when she was thirsty,” she said flatly. Nothing had mattered except where the
next bottle of rum was coming from. Not even the men she'd brought home with her. Especially the men. She'd taken up with ex-cons and thugs when she'd had to, and on more than one occasion, the cost of a drink had been a beating or rough sex. She hadn't cared. The next night, she'd gone out and done it all over again.

Something in her tone must have given her away her thoughts because he said suddenly, “You're thinking about that monster that tried to hurt you, aren't you? Her boyfriend.”

“There were always boyfriends,” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “A lot of them. I would try to be in bed before she got home. When I was eleven, I started barricading myself in at night.”

“Did it help?”

“For a while. Then she took up with Frank.”

Dark, ugly memories bombarded her from every side, sickening her, but with Austin on the other end of the line, murmuring reassuringly to her, she was able to tell him things that she'd told only one other person—Meredith. “He was a horrible man,” she said, repulsed. “He'd served time for nearly killing his ex-wife, and I think he had a thing for children. He would watch me, and it used to make my skin crawl.”

“Did you tell your mother?”

In the dark, Rebecca smiled slightly at the question. He didn't understand what it was like to grow up with a mother who loved her addiction more than she loved her own child, and she couldn't blame him for that. Most people who'd had a loving, caring mother couldn't comprehend how anyone could put their child in danger, then turn a blind eye to it.

“She just told me to stay out of his way.”

“She didn't throw him out?”

“Frank brought her a bottle every day when he came home,” she said simply. “She wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize that.”

“So you ran away?”

“After he trapped me in the bathroom when I was taking a shower. I knew then I had to get out. I left that night after he and Mom passed out.”

“And lived on the street,” he said quietly. “You were fourteen, for God's sake! How did you survive?”

That was a question she'd asked herself countless times over the years. Most fourteen-year-olds didn't even do their own laundry, let alone know how to make it on their own in a cold, dark world. She'd just done what she had to do. “I didn't have any choice. Anything was better than going back to Mom…and Frank.”

She told him then how she'd panhandled to get money and slept under bushes in the park at night, where no one could see her. And how she'd taken up with a stray dog she'd named Butch, and he'd protected her during the long, lonely summer nights. But then the dogcatcher took Butch away, and once again, she was all alone. Fall, then winter came, and the weather turned bad. After spending a night in the rain and getting sick, she'd felt like she had no choice but to go to a homeless shelter.

“It was a mistake,” she confided. “I know that now, but at the time it seemed like the only logical thing to do. My mother had pneumonia once, and I was afraid I was getting it. So I went to the shelter…and nearly got raped again.”

“But you weren't raped,” he reminded her. “You fought him off and there were people there to help you. I know it had to be a horrible experience for you, but from there, you went to the Hopechest Ranch and met
Meredith. Instead of thinking about the attack, try to think of that.”

“But I'm such an emotional cripple.”

She expected him to sympathize with her—instead, he laughed. “Are you kidding? You're the bravest woman I know.”

“Yeah, right,” she retorted, chuckling. “In case you hadn't noticed, I don't even date!”

“Because you don't like starting a relationship you can't continue,” he tossed back. “It takes guts to do that.”

“But I'm afraid of men.”

“No, you're afraid of intimacy,” he corrected her quietly. “There's a difference. If you were afraid of men, there wouldn't be any in your life. But you're friends with Richard—or at least you were until he gave you a reason not to be. And I like to think we're friends. Granted, it's not like I'm a stranger on the street—we have a family connection—but if you were afraid of me, you would have kicked me out of your life the first time I kissed you.”

Stunned, Rebecca realized he was exactly right. All this time she'd thought that she had an aversion to men because of Frank and everything else that had happened to her after she ran away from home, but that wasn't the case at all. She
did
like men! She'd enjoyed their company, their sense of humor, everything about them…except intimacy. Why had it taken her so long to see that?

Not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, she couldn't seem to stop smiling. “Do you know that you're the first person who's ever pointed that out to me? I can't believe I didn't see it myself. Thank you! God, I feel so much better! Maybe there's hope for me, after all.”

Wishing she could hug him, she lay in the dark and
talked to him for hours. The next time she looked at the luminous dial of her clock on the nightstand, it was four o'clock in the morning.

“Oh, my God! I can't believe I've kept you talking most of the night. We both have to work tomorrow.”

Far from concerned, he only laughed. “You mean today. If we hang up now, you can still catch a couple of hours sleep. Load up on coffee on your way to work, and you'll be fine.”

Still smiling, Rebecca wished him good night and hung up, sure she'd never be able to sleep simply because she was feeling so wonderful. But the second she punched her pillow into the right shape and closed her eyes, she realized just how tired she really was. She sighed, and within minutes she was asleep and dreaming of Austin.

 

Two hours later, Rebecca stood in front of the mirror on her bedroom door and surveyed herself critically. Dressed in a pale yellow summer suit with a white blouse, she looked cool and professional, and that was no accident. She'd deliberately chosen the most sedate outfit she had so Richard couldn't accuse her of wearing something flirty to encourage him.

Her stomach knotting just at the thought of facing him, she would have given anything to call in sick. But she wouldn't stay home and cower in her apartment like she had something to be ashamed of. She hadn't done anything except trust the wrong man.

That wasn't a mistake she would make again.

Still, walking into the school fifteen minutes later was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Invariably, Richard usually stood right outside his office in the hall, greeting students and teachers alike as they walked into the building. Braced for a cold, unpleasant scene, she
dragged in a calming breath and stepped inside…only to discover that he was nowhere in sight.

Relieved, she let out her breath in a rush, but she didn't fool herself into thinking that the reprieve she'd been granted was anything but temporary. Richard was there somewhere—as long as she'd known him, he'd never missed a day of work—and she would have to deal with him sometime before the day was over. Grimacing at the thought, she headed for the teachers' lounge for a cup of coffee that she would take with her to her first class.

Normally at that time of the morning, everyone was getting ready for their first class, and few people lingered in the lounge. The minute Rebecca stepped inside, however, she stopped in surprise. Half the staff was there.

“Hey,” Penny Taylor greeted her when she saw her at the door. “Have you heard the news?”

“What news? What's going on?”

“Tricky Dick is retiring.”

The news caught Rebecca completely by surprise, and she almost laughed aloud in triumph. Yes! She wouldn't have to deal with him after all, she thought happily. Then she realized that Penny had to be talking about next May, since the new term had just started at the beginning of July.

Frowning, she said, “So that's the big deal? I knew that months ago. I thought everyone did.”

“But you couldn't have,” Penny replied, confused. “He just found out yesterday when he went to the doctor.”

“The doctor? For what? What are you talking about?”

“His heart,” the other woman retorted, as confused as she. “Can we start this conversation over? I feel like I just stepped into the middle of an Abbott and Costello
routine. How did you know Richard was retiring today when his doctor only recommended it yesterday?”

Stunned, Rebecca felt like she'd been hit between the eyes with a brick. Grabbing Penny's arm, she pulled her over to a corner where they could speak in relative privacy. “What do you mean
today?
The last I heard, he was thinking about quitting at the end of the term.”

“That's what we all thought,” Penny said. “But you know how stressed he's been over his divorce. Apparently, his blood pressure's been up for some time now, but for some reason, it went through the roof last night and he had to be rushed to the hospital.”

“Is he okay?”

She shrugged. “He didn't have to be admitted to the hospital, so I guess so. But his doctor advised him to quit work or risk having a stroke. So he took the rest of the week off and put in for early retirement. He won't even be back for a farewell party.”

He'd quit, Rebecca thought, reeling. He'd actually quit, and she had to believe it was because of what had happened between them yesterday afternoon in his office. Knowing him, he'd probably gone home and convinced himself she was going to turn him in to the school board for his attack on her, and he'd worked himself into a panic worrying about his image.

Maybe she should have felt guilty about that, but in spite of the fact that she considered herself a charitable person, she couldn't summon any sympathy for him. They would never be friends again, but the least he could have done was call to apologize for his outrageous behavior.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked Penny. “You know how rumors are around here. Nobody ever stops to ask the source.”

“This time it came straight from the horse's mouth,”
she said with a smug smile. “He called Christina from the hospital last night and told her everything. She'll take over his duties until the school board appoints another principal.”

Christina Lopez was the assistant principal and one of Penny's best friends. She also had a reputation for being as honest as the day was long. If the story came from her, it could be counted on to be the gospel.

Which meant Rebecca never had to worry about working with Richard again.

Thrilled, she was so relieved, she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. What she wanted to do more than anything, though, was call Austin. She couldn't, wouldn't, tell the other teachers about yesterday—what happened between her and Richard was none of their business—but Austin would understand. Especially after all they'd shared last night. But a quick glance at the clock told her that she'd have to wait until later to talk to him. School started in ten minutes, and she had to get to her classroom.

 

It was one of those days when nothing went right, which was to be expected after only two hours sleep the night before. And although Austin silently acknowledged that he wasn't operating on all cylinders mentally, that had nothing to do with his mood. He could have been fully rested, with a solid eight hours of sleep under his belt, and he still would have hated the day and everything that it held. Because on this day nine years ago, his wife and unborn daughter had died in childbirth.

Every year, long before the painful anniversary arrived, he told himself he wasn't going to mark the day on his calendar. He'd just go about his business and let it pass without acknowledgment. His head told him it really could be that simple. Ignore the pain, the loss, and the
year would finally come when the day would come and go and he'd never notice.

But even though he knew that was probably the only way he would ever get past their deaths, his heart wouldn't let him ignore the day. Because to do so was to deny their very existence and his love for them, and he couldn't do that. So he'd crawled out of bed that morning with a heavy heart, and from there, the day had only gone from bad to worse. Just as he'd known it would.