The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (54 page)

Rayford shut and deadbolted the door. He turned the television off and went upstairs.

As he passed Chloe’s room he heard, “Daddy, you didn’t have to turn it off. Just down.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m going to take a shower and get to bed.”

“’Night, Dad.”

“’Night, Chlo’.”

Rayford stood in the shower with the water off and the master bath door open. As soon as he heard the doorbell, he turned on the water. He heard Chloe call, “Dad! Someone’s at the door!”

“I’m in the shower!”

“Oh, Dad!”

This was a great idea!
Buck thought, impressed that Rayford Steele trusted him enough to let him talk to his daughter when she obviously had something against him.

He waited a moment and rang the bell again. From inside he heard, “Just a minute, I’m coming!”

Chloe’s face appeared in the tiny window in the middle of the ornate door. She rolled her eyes. “Buck!” she called through the closed door. “Call me tomorrow, will you? I was already in bed!”

“I need to talk to you!” Buck said.

“Not tonight.”

“Yes, tonight,” he said. “I’m not leaving till you talk to me.”

“You’re not?” she said.

“No, I’m not.”

Chloe called his bluff. The porch light went out, and he heard her trotting up the stairs. He couldn’t believe it. She was tougher than he thought. But he had said he wasn’t leaving, and so he could not. If nothing else, Buck was a man of his word. Stubborn was more like it. But that had made him the journalist he was.

He still hadn’t shaken the longing for Chloe that had come over him that afternoon in New York. He’d wait her out, he decided. He’d be on her stoop in the morning when she got up, if that’s what it took.

Buck moved to the step at the edge of the porch and sat with his back to the front door, leaning on one of the stately pillars. He knew she would be able to see him if she came back to check. She’d probably be listening for his car, and she wouldn’t hear a thing.

“Daddy!” Chloe called from Rayford’s bedroom door. “Are you about done?”

“Not really! What’s up?”

“Buck Williams is at the door, and he won’t leave!”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Get rid of him!”

“You get rid of him! He’s your problem!”

“You’re my dad! It’s your duty!”

“Did he harm you? Has he threatened you?”

“No! Now, Dad!”

“
I
don’t want him to leave, Chloe! If
you
do,
you
send him away.”

“I’m going to bed!” she said.

“So am I!”

Rayford turned off the shower and heard Chloe slam his bedroom door. Then hers. Would she really go to bed and leave Buck on the porch? Would Buck stay? Rayford tiptoed to his door and opened it far enough to be able to keep tabs on Chloe. Her door was still shut. Rayford slipped into bed and didn’t move, listening. It was all he could do to keep from chuckling aloud. He had been put on the short list of candidates to be the new pilot for the president of the United States, and here he was, eavesdropping on his own daughter. It was the most fun he’d had in weeks.

Buck hadn’t realized how chilly the night was until he had sat next to that cold pillar for a few minutes. His jacket squeaked when he moved, and he raised the fur-lined collar around his neck. The smell reminded him of the many places in the world he had dragged this old bomber jacket. More than once he had thought he’d die in the thing.

Buck stretched his legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles, suddenly realizing how tired he was. If he had to sleep on this porch, he would.

Then, in the stillness, he heard the faint creaking of the steps inside. Chloe was creeping down to see if he was still there. If it had been Rayford, the steps would have been louder and more sure. Rayford would probably have told him to give it up and go home, that they would try to deal with the problem later. Buck heard the floor near the door creak. Just for effect, he tilted his head toward the pillar and rearranged his posture as if settling in for a snooze.

The footsteps back up the stairs were not so muffled. What now?

Rayford had heard Chloe open her door and make her way down the stairs in the darkness. Now she was on her way back up. She whipped her door open and slapped at the light switch. Rayford leaned so he could see her emerge, which she did a moment later just before she turned out the light. Her hair was pinned atop her head, and she wore her floor-length terry cloth robe. She turned on the light at the top of the stairs and descended with a purpose. If Rayford had to guess, he didn’t think she was running the man off.

Buck saw his shadow on the lawn and knew a light was on behind him, but he didn’t want to appear either overconfident or too eager. He stayed right where he was, as if already asleep. The door was unlocked and opened, but he heard nothing else. He sneaked a peek. That, apparently, was her invitation to come in.
I’ve come this far,
Buck thought.
That’s not good enough.
He resumed his position, his back to the door.

Half a minute later he heard Chloe stomping to the door again. She swung open the storm door and said, “What do you want, an engraved invitation?”

“Wha—?” Buck said, pretending to be startled and turning around. “Is it morning already?”

“Very funny. Get in here. You’ve got ten minutes.”

He stood to go in, but Chloe let the storm door slap shut as she went to sit on one end of the couch in the living room. Buck let himself in. “That’s all right,” he said, “I’ll keep my coat.”

“This visit was your idea, not mine,” she said. “Forgive me if I don’t treat you as if you were invited.”

Chloe sat with her feet tucked under her, arms crossed, as if granting him an extremely reluctant audience. Buck draped his jacket across an easy chair and slid the footstool in front of Chloe. He sat there, staring at her, as if trying to think of where to begin.

“I’m hardly dressed for visitors,” she said.

“You look great no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Spare me,” she said. “What do you want?”

“Actually, I wanted to bring you flowers,” he said. “Seeing as how yours are in the trash.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” she said, pointing past him. He turned and looked. Sure enough, a huge bouquet of flowers was jammed in a wastebasket.

“I didn’t think you were kidding,” Buck said. “I just thought you were being figurative, and I hadn’t heard the expression.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you told me the flowers were in the trash, I thought it was some sort of phrase I’d never heard. It had the flavor of ‘the cat is out of the bag’ or ‘the water is under the bridge.’”

“I said the flowers were in the trash, and that’s what I meant. I mean what
I
say, Buck.”

Buck was at a loss. They seemed to be on different pages, and he wasn’t even sure it was the same script. “Um, could you tell me why the flowers are in the trash? Maybe that would help clarify things for me.”

“Because I didn’t want them.”

“Oh, silly me. Makes sense. And you didn’t want them because . . .” He stopped and shook his head, as if she should fill in the blank.

“They insult me because of where they came from.”

“And where did they come from?”

“OK, then because of
who
they came from.”

“And they came from whom?”

“Oh, Buck, really! I don’t have time for this and I’m not in the mood.”

Chloe moved to stand and suddenly Buck was angry. “Chloe, wait just a minute.” She sat back down and folded up again, looking perturbed. “You owe me an explanation.”

“No, you owe
me
an explanation.”

Buck sighed. “I’ll explain anything you want, Chloe, but no more games. It was clear we were attracted to each other, and I know I gave off some less-than-interested signals Friday night, but today I realized—”

“This morning,” she interrupted, obviously fighting tears, “I discovered why you seemed to have lost interest all of a sudden. You were feeling guilty about not telling me everything, and if you think those flowers fixed anything—”

“Chloe! Let’s talk about real problems! I had nothing to do with those flowers.”

For once, Chloe was silent.

Chloe sat looking skeptically at Buck. “You didn’t?” she managed finally.

He shook his head. “Apparently you have another admirer.”

“Yeah, right,” she said. “Another? As if that makes two?”

Buck spread his hands before him. “Chloe, there’s obviously been a lack of communication here.”

“Obviously.”

“Call me presumptuous, but I was under the impression that we sort of hit it off from the moment we met.” He paused and waited for a response.

She nodded. “Nothing serious,” she said. “But yes, I thought we liked each other.”

“And I was with you on the plane when you prayed with your dad,” he said.

She nodded slightly.

“That was a special time,” he continued.

“OK,” she agreed.

“Then I went through my ordeal and couldn’t wait to get back here to tell all of you about it.”

Chloe’s lip quivered. “That was the most incredible story I had ever heard, Buck, and I didn’t doubt you for a second. I knew you were going through a lot, but I thought we had connected.”

“I didn’t know what to call it,” Buck said, “but as I told you in my note that Sunday, I was attracted to you.”

“Not only to me, apparently.”

Buck was speechless. “Not only to you?” he repeated.

“Just go on with your speech.”

Speech? She thinks this is a speech? And she thinks there’s someone else? There hasn’t been anyone else in years!
Buck was deflated and thought of giving up, but he decided she was worth it. Misguided, jumping to strange conclusions for some reason, but worth it.

“Between Sunday and Friday night I did a lot of thinking about us.”

“Here it comes,” she said, tearing up again. What did she think? That he was prepared to sleep on her porch just to dump her for someone else when she finally let him in?

“I realize that Friday night I was giving you mixed signals,” he said. “Well, maybe not so mixed. I was pulling away.”

“There wasn’t much to pull away from.”

“But we were getting there, weren’t we?” Buck said. “Didn’t you think we were going to progress?”

“Sure. Until Friday night.”

“I’m a little embarrassed to admit this—” he said hesitantly.

“You should be,” she said.

“—but I realized I was being pretty premature, given how recently we had met, and your age, and—”

“So, there it is. It’s not your age that’s the problem, is it? It’s my age.”

“Chloe, I’m sorry. The issue was not your age or my age. The issue was the
difference
in our ages. Then I realized that with only about seven more years ahead of us, that becomes a nonissue. But I was all mixed up. I was thinking about our future, you know, what might come of our relationship, and we don’t even have a relationship yet.”

“And we’re not going to, Buck. I’m not going to share you. If there was a future for us, it would be an exclusive relationship, and—oh, never mind. Here I go talking about stuff neither of us even considered before.”

“Apparently we did,” Buck said. “I just said I did, and it sounds like you’ve been looking ahead a little, too.”

“Not any more, not since this morning.”

“Chloe, I’m going to have to ask you something, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. This may sound a little condescending, even parental, and I don’t mean it to be.” She sat stiffly, as if expecting a reprimand. “I’m going to ask you not to say anything for a minute, all right?”

“Pardon me?” she said. “I’m not allowed to speak?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s what you just said.”

Buck came just short of raising his voice. He knew his look and tone were stern, but he had to do something. “Chloe, you’re not listening to me. You’re not letting me finish a thought. There’s some subtext here I know nothing about, and I can’t defend myself against mysteries and fantasies. You keep talking about not sharing me—is there something you need to ask me or accuse me of before I can go on here?”

Rayford, who had been lying still and nearly holding his breath trying to listen, had heard very little of the conversation until Buck raised his voice. Rayford heard that and silently cheered. Chloe increased her volume, too. “I want to know about anybody else in your life before I even think—oh, Buck, what are we talking about? Aren’t there a lot more important things to be thinking about right now?”

Rayford couldn’t hear Buck’s whispered response, and he was tired of trying. He moved to the doorway and called down to them. “Could you two either speak up or just whisper? If I can’t hear, I’m going to sleep!”

“Go to sleep, Dad!” Chloe said.

Buck smiled. Chloe was also suppressing a grin.

“Chloe, all weekend I’ve been thinking about all the ‘more important things’ we have to think about. I almost had myself talked into giving you the let’s-be-friends routine . . . until I was sitting in that office this afternoon and you came over me.”

“
I
came over you? You saw me at the
Global Weekly
office?”

“The
Global Weekly
office? What are you talking about?”

Chloe hesitated. “Well, what office were you talking about?”

Buck grimaced. He hadn’t planned to talk about his meeting with Carpathia. “Can we save that until we’re back on even ground here? I was saying I was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see you, to talk to you, to get back to you.”

“Back from where? Or back from whom, I should ask.”

“Well, I’d rather not get into that until I think you’re ready to hear it.”

“I’m ready, Buck, because I already know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was there!”

“Chloe, if you were at the Chicago bureau office, then you know I wasn’t there today, I mean, except for early this morning.”

“So you
were
there.”

“I was just dropping off some keys to Alice.”

“Alice? That’s her name?”

Buck nodded, lost.

“What’s her last name, Buck?”

“Her last name? I don’t know. I’ve always just called her Alice. She’s new. She replaced Lucinda’s secretary, who disappeared.”

“You want me to believe you really don’t know her last name?”

“Why should I lie about that? Do you know her?”

Chloe’s eyes bored into him. Buck knew they were finally getting somewhere. He just didn’t know where. “I can’t say I know her, exactly,” Chloe said. “I just talked to her, that’s all.”

“You talked to Alice,” he repeated, trying to make it compute.

“She told me you and she were engaged.”

“Oh, she did not!” Buck shouted, then quieted, peeking up the stairs. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re talking about the same Alice, aren’t we?” Chloe said. “Skinny, spiky dark hair, short skirt, works at
Global Weekly
?”

“That’s her.” Buck nodded. “But don’t you think I’d know her last name if we were engaged? Plus, that would be mighty big news to her fiancé.”

“So she’s engaged, but not to you?” Chloe said, sounding doubtful.

“She told me something about picking up her fiancé today,” he said. Chloe looked stricken. “Do you mind if I ask how you happened to be at the
Weekly
and talking to her? Were you looking for me?”

“As a matter of fact, I was,” Chloe said. “I had seen her earlier, and I was surprised to see her there.”

“Like I said, Chloe, I wasn’t there today.”

“Where were you?”

“I asked you first. Where had you seen Alice?”

Chloe spoke so softly Buck had to lean forward to hear. “At your condo.”

Buck sat back, everything coming into focus. He wanted to laugh, but poor Chloe! He fought to stay serious. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I invited you, my plans changed, and I never told you.”

“She had your keys,” Chloe whispered.

Buck shook his head sympathetically. “I gave them to her so she could deliver some equipment I was expecting at the office. I had to be in New York today.”

Buck’s frustration with Chloe melted into sympathy. She couldn’t maintain eye contact, and she was clearly on the verge of tears. “So you really didn’t send the flowers,” she whispered.

“If I’d known I needed to, I would have.”

Chloe uncrossed her arms and buried her face in her hands. “Buck, I’m so embarrassed,” she moaned, and the tears came. “I have no excuse. I was worried after Friday night, and then I just made a big thing out of nothing.”

“I didn’t know you cared that much,” Buck said.

“Of course I cared. But I can’t expect you to understand or to forgive me after I’ve been such a, such a—oh, if you don’t even want to see me again, I’d understand.” She was still hiding her face. “You’d better go,” she added. “I wasn’t presentable when you got here, and I’m certainly not now.”

“Is it all right if I sleep on your porch? ’Cause I’d like to be here when you are presentable.”

She peeked at him through her hands and smiled through her tears. “You don’t have to do this, Buck.”

“Chloe, I’m just sorry I contributed to this by not telling you about my trip.”

“No, Buck. It was all my fault, and I’m so sorry.”

“OK,” he said. “You’re sorry, and I forgive you. Can that be the end of it?”

“That’s just going to make me cry more.”

“What’d I do now?”

“You’re just being too sweet about this!”

“I can’t win!”

“Give me a minute, will you?” Chloe sprang from the couch and hurried up the stairs.

Ever since asking them to either speak up or quiet down, Rayford had been sitting just out of sight at the top of the stairs. He tried to get up and sneak back into the master bedroom, but he was just rising when Chloe nearly ran into him.

“Dad!” she whispered. “What are you doing?!”

“Eavesdropping. What does it look like?”

“You’re awful!”

“
I’m
awful? Look what you did to Buck! Way to hang a guy before he’s tried.”

“Dad, I was such a fool.”

“It was just a comedy of errors, hon, and like Buck said, it only shows how much you cared.”

“Did you know he was coming?”

Rayford nodded.

“Tonight? You knew he was coming tonight?”

“Guilty.”

“And you made me answer the door.”

“So shoot me.”

“I ought to.”

“No, you ought to thank me.”

“That’s for sure. You can go to bed now. I’m going to change and see if Buck wants to take a walk.”

“So you’re saying I can’t come along? Or even follow from a distance?”