Local Hero

scared.”
    “Don’t do it again.” Her voice softened as she kissed his cheek. “Next time it’s solitary confinement. You’re all I’ve got, Rad.” She hugged him again. Her eyes were closed so that she didn’t see the change in Mitch’s expression. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”
    “I won’t do it again.”
    All she had
, Mitch thought as he set the boy down. Was she still so stubborn that she couldn’t admit, even to herself, that she had someone else now too? He jammed his hands into his pockets and tried to force back both anger and hurt. She was going to have to make room in her life soon, very soon, or he’d damn well make it for her.

Chapter 11
    He wasn’t sure if he was doing more harm than good by staying out of Hester’s way for a few days, but Mitch needed time himself. It wasn’t his style to dissect and analyze, but to feel and act. However, he’d never felt quite this strongly before or acted quite so rashly.
    When possible, he buried himself in work and in the fantasies he could control. When it wasn’t, he stayed alone in his rooms, with old movies flickering on the television or music blaring through the stereo. He continued to work on the screenplay he didn’t know if he could write, in the hope that the challenge of it would stop him from marching two floors up and demanding that Hester Wallace come to her senses.
    She wanted him, yet she didn’t want him. She opened to him, yet kept the most precious part of her closed. She trusted him, yet didn’t believe in him enough to share her life with him.
    You’re all I’ve got, Rad.
And all she wanted? Mitch was forced to ask himself the question. How could such a bright, giving woman base the rest of her life on a mistake she’d made over ten years before?
    The helplessness of it infuriated him. Even when he’d hit bottom in New Orleans, he hadn’t been helpless. He’d faced his limitations, accepted them, and had channeled his talents differently. Had the time come for him to face and accept his limitations with Hester?
    He spent hours thinking about it, considering compromises and then rejecting them. Could he do as she asked and leave things as they were? They would be lovers, with no promises between them and no talk of a future. They could have a relationship as long as there was no hint of permanency or bonds. No, he couldn’t do as she asked. Now that he had found the only woman he wanted in his life, he couldn’t accept her either part-time or partway.
    It was something of a shock to discover he was such an advocate of marriage. He couldn’t say that he’d seen very many that had been made in heaven. His parents had been well suited—the same tastes, the same class, the same outlook—but he couldn’t remember ever witnessing any passion between them. Affection and loyalty, yes, and a united front against their son’s ambitions, but they lacked the spark and simmer that added excitement.
    He asked himself if it was only passion he felt for Hester, but knew the answer already. Even as he sat alone, he could imagine them twenty years in the future, sitting on the porch swing she’d described. He could see them growing older together, filing away memories and traditions.
    He wasn’t going to lose that. However long it took, however many walls he had to scale, he wasn’t going to lose that.
    Mitch dragged a hand through his hair, then gathered up the boxes he needed to lug upstairs.
    ***
    She was afraid he wasn’t coming. There had been some subtle change in Mitch since the night they’d gone to Times Square. He’d been strangely distant on the phone, and though she’d invited him up more than once, he’d always made an excuse.
    She was losing him. Hester poured punch into paper cups and reminded herself that she’d known it was only temporary. He had the right to live his own life, to go his own way. She could hardly expect him to tolerate the distance she felt she had to put between them or to understand the lack of time and attention she could give him because of Radley and her job. All she could hope was that he would remain a friend.
    Oh, God, she missed him. She missed having him to talk to, to laugh with, even to lean on—though she could only allow herself to lean a little. Hester set the pitcher on the counter and took a deep breath. It couldn’t matter; she couldn’t
let
it matter now. There were ten excited and noisy boys in the other room. Her responsibility, she reminded