example of good old Yankee ingenuity? Thea shivered. “What do you mean?”
“Perhaps we’re expected to start this thing ourselves.”
“I think not.” She was nervous enough about riding in the gondola without adding reckless incompetence to the mix.
“We should wait,” Dr. Mona Nance counseled. “I’m sure we’ll receive instructions.”
“Don’t need a lesson book,” Travis said. “You just yank the lever. Like turning on a light bulb. You get it, Doctor Shrink?”
The wizened little psychologist stepped in front of him. Her small face turned up. Her head tilted back. “Because of my stature, I find that term particularly offensive.”
“Shrink?”
“Precisely.”
The tone of her voice held such authority that even an insensitive oaf like Travis was cowed. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Backing off, he and the reverend discussed the possibility of starting the gondola, and Thea’s gaze slipped toward Spence. Long legs stretched out in front of him, he sat on one of the stone benches beside his two friends, Emily and Jordan.
A nice couple, Thea thought, who seemed utterly loyal to Spence. Emily just glowed talking about him, expounding for Thea on what a wonderful doctor he was, brilliant, thoughtful, reverent, not to mention an expert in search-and-rescue who had saved countless lives. Thea thought the lives he had saved probably could be counted, but she wasn’t surprised. She’d never doubted Spence’s competence.
Still, she found it somewhat hard to believe that he’d reined in his world-conquering ambitions and settled for working in a small town. Was it possible that he had changed? That he’d become even a little less arrogant and self-involved?
She tried, on the sly, to assess the differences wrought in five years. His features had become more chiseled with strong jawline and high cheekbones. Fine lines crisscrossed his forehead and radiated from the corners of his breathtaking blue eyes. She wished she could see below the surface, to know if the changes in Spence ran more than skin deep.
Dr. Mona approached and perched on the bench beside Thea. The psychologist’s tiny little legs were so short that her feet didn’t touch the stone floor. “How do you know Jenny?” she asked pleasantly.
“We work together at the middle school. I teach English and American History.”
“Sixth, seventh and eighth graders,” Dr. Mona said. “A difficult age. I’m always curious. How do you handle classroom discipline with that age group?”
“Like a lion tamer. With a whip and a chair,” Thea joked. She felt Spence’s attention on her. “On good days, I enjoy the challenge.”
“And on bad days?”
“It’s a struggle,” she admitted. “What about you, Doctor? Are you a friend of Jenny’s family?”
“Actually, Jenny is my client,” Dr. Mona said. “I know her quite well.”
Though Thea hadn’t known her friend was in therapy, it wasn’t exactly a revelation. Teaching in an inner-city middle school made for a fairly high-stress occupation, especially after Columbine. It had been in the press recently that teachers in the Denver area suffered significantly more from stress than the already high levels documented nationwide.
Very likely, Thea thought, Jenny had discussed her fiancé with her therapist as well. Dr. Mona’s professional opinion would be very interesting. “What do you make of Gregory Rosemont?”
“Mysterious, isn’t he?” Doctor Mona commented noncommittally.
“Very. What concerns me, though,” Thea admitted, “is that Jenny thinks he’ll come out of his shell after they’re married. You know, become more sociable.” Thea paused. “Do you think that’s possible?”
“I believe people can change or modify their behavior.” Her cheeks rounded as she grinned. “Otherwise, my work is a sham.”
Thea glanced toward Spence. “What does it take to change?”
“Most of all,” Dr. Mona said, “a willingness.” She patted Thea’s knee, and resorted to every therapist’s escape hatch. “What do you think, dear?”
Straying from Jenny’s issues with Gregory Rosemont, Thea thought that even if Spence had changed, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him. Five years ago, he had shredded her self-esteem and handed it back to her like so much confetti on a silver platter.
“Somebody’s coming,” Travis announced as he flung open the door of the gondola house and charged into the snow.
The others straggled outside behind him. During the few minutes they’d been in the gondola house, the storm clouds had thickened. A bitter chill shimmered in the air.
A stocky, middle-aged man huffed and puffed his way up the path toward the gondola house.
“Hey, dude,” Travis bellowed, “you’re late if you’re here to take us up to the castle.”
The man paused, red-faced from his exertions. Before he spoke, he planted both feet and corrected his posture. His shoulders squared beneath his black parka. He assumed an attitude of dignity. “Please accept my apologies for the delay.”
The ruddy man carefully removed his knit cap and smoothed the thinning strands of his black hair. “I am the Rosemont butler. My name is Lawrence. May I suggest that before we proceed with further introductions, we step inside?”
Back inside the gondola house, Thea found herself standing beside Spence. If she made a point of moving away, he might think she feared contact. Did she? Was she afraid of him? Quickly, she polled her emotions. First and foremost, she felt antsy. Nervous to be around him. Angry that he looked so fine. More angry that the simmering rage over what he’d done to her five years ago, rage she’d been certain would not cool no matter what, seemed to have cooled in spite of her.
No matter, she assured herself, distracted by Travis’s whining, she would never forgive Spence, even if…or when the old rage turned stone-cold.
“May I have your attention,” Lawrence said. He pulled out a cell phone. “Anyone else got one of these?”
Everyone nodded, even wizened little Doctor Mona.
“How about computers? Any palm-tops? Laptops?”
The Reverend Joshua Handy bleated. “Is there a point to all this? I need my computer—”
“Sorry,” Lawrence interrupted, “but before we make the ascent to Castle in the Clouds, Mr. Rosemont has requested that all computers, pagers, cell phones and other electronic devices be left behind.”
“Why?” Spence demanded.
“The heating and electrical systems in the castle are run by highly sophisticated electronics which might be severely disrupted by interference.” He shrugged as if to make light of the need to divest. “You’ll find there is no cellular service available in any case.”
“No
