“Um, could you have someone keep me updated?” she asked tentatively. She didn’t know if Sheikh al Harum would be bothered, but she had to ask. Surely there was some clerk there who could call her once something happened.
“I worry about him, too,” Rashid said gently. “I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything.”
“Thank you. I’m using his phone. I don’t have one. Jalilah can get me.” She hung up, a bit reassured. She didn’t want to question her need to make sure he was safe. She’d feel the same about anyone she knew who had such a dangerous job.
Ella sat in the desk chair for several moments. She studied the room, wondering what Khalid thought about when he sat here. She suspected he missed his grandmother more than he might have expected. The older woman had spoken so lovingly about her grandsons. Their family sounded close.
Except perhaps their mother. Or was her hesitancy welcoming women into the fold mere self-protection. It would be too bad to have someone pretend affection if they were only after money. How would she become convinced? Nothing had convinced her parents Alexander had not been after their money. They hadn’t seemed to care that their only daughter was very happy in her marriage. The constant attempts to end the union had only alienated them. Ella hoped Madame al Harum never resorted to such tactics, but accepted Rashid’s choice and wished him happiness.
She stood up and went back to her place. She didn’t want to think about her parents, or Alexander, or anything in the past. She didn’t want to worry about a man she hardly knew. And she didn’t want to worry about the future. For today she’d try to just make it through without turmoil and complications, fear and dread.
Shortly after lunch there was a knock at the door. When Ella opened it, she was surprised to see Bethanne.
“Hi, I thought you might wish for some company,” she said.
“Come in. I’m glad for company. I couldn’t work today.”
“I wouldn’t be able to, either, if Rashid was doing something foolishly dangerous.”
When they were on the terrace with ice-cold beverages, Ella smiled at her new friend. “What you said earlier, about Rashid being in a dangerous position—ever happen?”
“Not that I know about. And I would be sick with worry if he went off to put out an oil well fire.”
“You and he are close, as it should be since you will be marrying him. Khalid is my landlord.”
Bethanne laughed. “Right. And Madame al Harum and I are best friends.”
Ella wrinkled her nose slightly. “I don’t think she thinks in terms of friends.”
“Well, not with the women who might marry her sons.”
“I heard she helped arrange a marriage, but it didn’t take place.”
“Good thing for me. Rashid was going along with it for business reasons. Honestly, who wants to get married for business reasons? I’m glad he caught on.”
“And the other woman?”
“She ran off with a lover and I have no idea what happened after that. But she obviously had more sense than my future husband. Much as I adore him, I do wonder what he was thinking considering an arranged marriage. I can’t imagine all that passion—Oops, never mind.”
Ella looked away, hiding a smile. She remembered passion with Alexander when their marriage was new. The image of Khalid kissing her sprang to mind. Her heart raced. She experienced even more passion that night. She did not want to think about it, but couldn’t erase the image, nor the yearning for another kiss. Would that pass before he returned?
She had not helped her stance by kissing him goodbye. She should have wished him well and kept her distance.
“If they don’t get the well capped today, they’ll try tomorrow,” Bethanne said, sipping her drink. “And if that doesn’t work, Rashid wants to go there. If we do, want to fly with us? I took the crew down. They spent the entire flight going over schematics of the oil rig. It’s in the water, you know. You’d think with the entire Persian Gulf at their feet it would be easy enough to put out a fire.”
Ella laughed, but inside she stayed worried.
Bethanne was wonderful company and the two them spent the afternoon with laughter. Ella was glad she’d come to visit. Except for a very few friends from the university, she didn’t have many people she saw often. She had wanted it that way when Alexander first died. Now she could see the advantage of going out more with her friends. It took her mind off other things. Like if Khalid was safe or not.
The next morning she took an early walk along the beach. She never tired of the changing sea, some days incredibly blue other days steely-gray. She loved the solitude and beauty. During the day other people used the beach and she waved to a family she knew by sight. Watching the children as they played in the water gave her a pang. She and Alexander never had children. They thought they had years to start a family. They had wanted to spend time together as a couple before embarking on the next stage of family life.
His death cut everything short. She wished she’d had a baby with him. Would a child have brought her more comfort? Or more pain as every day she saw her husband in its face? She’d never know.
When she returned to the cottage, she saw a black car parked in front of the main house. Staying partially hidden behind the shrubs, she watched for a moment. It was not Khalid’s sleek sports car. Was Madame al Harum visiting? Surely she knew her son was gone. Unless—had something happened. She could scarcely breathe. If Khalid had been injured, would Rashid send someone to tell her?
A moment later a man came from the house and got into the car, swiftly driving away.
Ella caught her breath at the recognition. She pulled back and waited until the car was gone before moving. In only seconds she was home, the door firmly locked behind her. How had they found her? She paced the living room. Obviously the maid had not given out where she lived or he would have camped on her doorstep. But it was only a matter of time now before he returned. Maybe he wanted to speak to the sheikh. Good grief, Khalid didn’t know not to give out the information. His grandmother had been a staunch ally, but Khalid was looking for a way to get her to leave early. Had he any clue? Could she convince him not to divulge her whereabouts if her brother came calling again?
He had no reason to keep her home a secret. In fact, she could see it as his benefit to give out the information and stand aside while he tried to get her to return home.
Pacing did little but burn up energy, which seemed to pour through her as she fretted about this turn of events. She had grown comfortable here. She liked living here, liked her life as she’d made it since Alexander’s death. She was not going home, no matter what. But she did not want the pressure Antonio would assert. Should she leave before Khalid returned? If he didn’t know where she was, he couldn’t give the location away.
But she didn’t want to leave. Not until she knew if he was all right. What if the fire damaged more than equipment? Men could die trying to put out an oil fire. She so did not need any of this. She’d worked hard the last year to get her life under control.
Drawing a deep breath, she went to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. She’d make a list of her choices, calmly, rationally. She’d see what she could do to escape this situation—
Escape. That’s what she wanted. Could Bethanne help? She could fly her to a secret location and never tell anyone.
Only, would she? And how much would it cost to hire the plane? Maybe she should have sold some of her work to give herself more capital. She had enough for her needs if she was careful. But a huge chunk spent on a plane trip could wreak the financial stability she had. Did she have the luxury of time? She could find a bus to take her somewhere in the interior. But not her equipment. Not her studio.
She couldn’t leave that behind. It was her only way to make the glass art that she hoped was her future.
Jumping up, she began to walk around, gazing out the window, touching a piece of glass here and there that she’d made. What was she going to do?
There was a knock on the door. Ella froze. Had he found her already? Slowly she crossed the room and peeked out of the small glass in the door. It was Jalilah.
Ella opened the door.
“Hello,” the maid said. “I came to tell you someone was at the house earlier, asking after you. He said the sheikh had sent inquiries to Italy. I remember Madame’s comments when you first came here to live. She wanted you to have all the privacy you wanted. I told the man the sheikh was away from home and did not know when he would return.”
“Thank you!” Ella breathed a sigh of relief. She had a respite. No fear of discovery today.
But—Khalid had sent inquiries to Italy? Why?
Jalilah bowed slightly and left.
Had Khalid sought to find other ways to get her to leave? Anger rose. How dare he put out inquiries? Who did he think he was? And more importantly, who did he think she was? He couldn’t take her word?
After a hasty lunch Ella could barely eat, she went to the studio, trying to assess how much it would take to move her ovens, bench and all the accoutrements she had for glassblowing. More than a quick plane ride west.
Maybe she could leave for a short while, let her brother grow tired of looking for her again and when he left, she’d return. Only, what if Khalid then told him when she returned. She’d never be safe.