Earth Colors Read Online Free Page B

shook his head absently and made a small clicking noise in the corner of his mouth, an odd gesture, but one as familiar to me as the unguarded moments after sex. Perhaps it was because I had just seen Frank, and had been pried open by the ghosts of my love life, but in that instant Gray Eyes evoked my boyfriend, Jack Sampler, and in spite of what had transpired between us five minutes earlier, I felt a shock of attraction for him.
    Dismay whizzed through me; it seemed it was my afternoon to be upset by men. I studied this man’s face, trying to reassert my earlier wariness. I concentrated, trying to analyze how I could simultaneously dislike this man’s behavior and find him attractive. I assured myself that it was only that he reminded me of Jack, no more. I told myself firmly that Jack was a far better man than this, and berated myself for even noticing anyone else. But Jack was far, far away, and it had been a long, long time, and I could no longer quite remember exactly what he looked like. Was this how my brain let me know that far had become too far, and long had become too long?
    Then it came to me: Like Jack, this man’s both here with me and not.
    But Jack is in the Middle East doing brave things for this country , I reminded myself. Of course he’s not here. It’s his mission to defend—
    Face it, quick, before you stuff it out of sight again! whispered a voice deep within me.

    Face what?
    The room seemed to tip, as if I were wrapped in tissue in a box that someone was dumping out onto the floor. I grabbed for the wall to steady myself.
    I had managed these long months of separation from Jack by keeping my feelings where they couldn’t hurt me, but in jagged instants like this, I missed him so terribly that an almost physical pain shot through me. To say that I was worried about him was a gross understatement. He was not a young man anymore, and even young men got killed when they put on uniforms and carried guns, and he had gone right to the place where the newspapers told me that men were dying.
    I did not know when I’d see Jack next. But that was the way it had always been with him, because he flew even higher than this guy did. Jack was a creature of the heavens, a comet so fierce that the night sky had shone with his intensity, if only for a short while.
    As if reading my thoughts, the gray-eyed man turned and looked at me again.
    I decided that it was time to leave. I hurried through the gallery and the lobby, and out the front door.
    Outside, the cool, crisp air mercifully slapped me awake, and I sucked in great lungfuls, congratulating myself on slipping through the cracks of my loneliness one more time.

3
    I STARTED BACK DOWN THE STREET. IT WAS TIME TO WAKE FAYE anyway.
    I was within a half-block of the Pawnee Hotel when I saw her hurrying from its entrance. She closed on us quickly, her long legs cutting the distance with staccato strides. “Em, good,” she said. “The client just called on the cell phone. It seems he’s already at the gallery. Shit, I didn’t expect him until later. I guess you can come along … um, if you like.”
    The only thing I wanted less just then than to return to the gallery was to explain this to Faye. Trying to sound casual, I said, “No, I’ll just take the baby back to the hotel. I think she’s getting fussy. You know, hungry …”
    On cue, Sloane leaned toward Faye and made one of those insistent Feed me! noises that can simultaneously motivate a mother and piss her off.
    Faye’s forehead crumpled in frustration. She was trying to be diligent about the breast-feeding, but life was beginning to get in the way. She reached out a hand to touch her daughter, but then dropped it to her side, defeated. Pain danced across her face. “Give her some cereal,” she said. “Do you have your cell phone?”
    “Uh, no.”
    “Take mine, so you can reach me. He’s carrying one, and I’ve got his number punched into it already.” She leaned forward and whispered,