The Road To Love: Love by Degree / The Rain Sparrow. Debbie Macomber

wasn’t in any danger.”

      He shook his head, clearly upset. “There are people who specialize in that sort of thing. I don’t want you up there again. Understand?”

      “Yes, but—”

      “No buts. You do anything that stupid again and you’re out of here. Have you got that?”

      “Yes,” she said with forced calm. “I understand.”

      “Good.”

      Before she could think of anything else to say, Reed was gone.

      “You all right?” Derek asked a minute later. Shocked by Reed’s outburst, Ellen hadn’t moved. Rarely had anyone been that angry with her. Heavens, she’d cleaned out drainpipes lots of times. Her father had died when Ellen was fourteen, and over the years she’d assumed most of the maintenance duties around the house. She’d learned that, with the help of a good book and a well-stocked hardware store, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t fix. She’d repaired the plumbing, built bookshelves and done a multitude of household projects. It was just part of her life. Reed had acted as though she’d done something hazardous, as though she’d taken some extraordinary risk, and that seemed totally ridiculous to her. She knew what she was doing. Besides, heights didn’t frighten her; they never had.

      “Ellen?” Derek prompted.

      “I’m fine.”

      “I’ve never seen Reed act like that. He didn’t mean anything.”

      “I know,” she whispered, brushing the dirt from her knees. Derek drifted off, leaving her to return the ladder to the garage single-handed.

      Reed found her an hour later folding laundry in her bedroom. He knocked on the open door.

      “Yes?” She looked up expectantly.

      “I owe you an apology.”

      She continued folding towels at the foot of her bed. “Oh?”

      “I didn’t mean to come at you like Attila the Hun.”

      Hugging a University of Washington T-shirt to her stomach, she lowered her gaze to the bedspread and nodded. “Apology accepted and I’ll offer one of my own. I didn’t mean to come back at you like a spoiled brat.”

      “Accepted.” They smiled at each other and she caught her breath as those incredible green eyes gazed into hers. It was a repeat of the scene in the kitchen the night before. For a long, silent moment they did nothing but stare, and she realized that a welter of conflicting emotions must have registered on her face. A similar turmoil raged on his.

      “If it’ll make you feel any better, I won’t go up on the roof again,” she said at last.

      “I’d appreciate it.” His lips barely moved. The words were more of a sigh than a sentence.

      She managed a slight nod in response.

      At the sound of footsteps, they guiltily looked away.

      “Say, Ellen.” Pat stopped in the doorway, a basketball under his left arm. “Got time to shoot a few baskets with me?”

      “Sure,” she whispered, stepping around Reed. At that moment, she would’ve agreed to just about anything to escape his company. There was something happening between them and she felt frightened and confused and excited, all at the same time.

      The basketball hoop was positioned above the garage door at the end of the long driveway. Pat was attending the University of Washington with the express hope of making the Husky basketball team. His whole life revolved around the game. He was rarely seen without a ball tucked under his arm and sometimes Ellen wondered if he showered with it. She was well aware that the invitation to practice a few free throws with him was not meant to be taken literally. The only slam dunk Ellen had ever accomplished was with a doughnut in her hot chocolate. Her main job was to stand on the sidelines and be awed by Pat’s talent.

      They hadn’t been in the driveway fifteen minutes when the back door opened and Derek strolled out. “Say, Ellen, have you got a minute?” he asked, frowning.

      “What’s the problem?”

      “It’s Michelle.”

      Sitting on the concrete porch step, Derek looked at Ellen with those wide pleading eyes of his.

      Ellen sat beside him and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “What’s wrong with Michelle?”

      “Nothing. She’s beautiful and I think she might even fall in love with me, given the chance.” He paused to sigh expressively. “I asked her out to dinner tonight.”

      “She agreed. Right?” If Michelle was anywhere near as taken with Derek as he was with her, she wasn’t likely to refuse.

      The boyishly thin shoulders heaved in a gesture of despair. “She can’t.”

      “Why not?” Ellen watched as Pat bounced the basketball across the driveway, pivoted, jumped high in the air and sent the ball through the net.

      “Michelle promised her older sister that she’d baby-sit tonight.”

      “That’s too bad.” Ellen gave him a sympathetic look.

      “The thing is, she’d probably go out with me if there was someone who could watch her niece and nephew for her.”

      “Uh-huh.” Pat made another skillful play and Ellen applauded vigorously. He rewarded her with a triumphant smile.

      “Then you will?”

      Ellen switched her attention from Pat’s antics at the basketball hoop back to Derek. “Will I what?”

      “Babysit Michelle’s niece and nephew?”

      “What?” she exploded. “Not me. I’ve got to do research for a term paper.”

      “Ellen, please, please, please.”

      “No. No. No.” She sliced the air forcefully with her hand and got to her feet.

      Derek rose with her. “I sense some resistance to this idea.”

      “The boy’s a genius,” she mumbled under her breath as she hurried into the kitchen. “I’ve got to write my term paper. You know that.”

      Derek followed her inside. “Ellen, please? I promise I’ll never ask anything of you again.”

      “I’ve heard that before.” She tried to ignore him as he trailed her to the refrigerator and watched her take out sandwich makings for lunch.

      “It’s a matter of the utmost importance,” Derek pleaded anew.

      “What is?” Reed spoke from behind the paper he was reading at the kitchen table.

      “My date with Michelle. Listen, Ellen, I bet Reed would help you. You’re not doing anything tonight, are you?”

      Reed lowered the newspaper. “Help Ellen with what?”

      “Babysitting.”

      Reed glanced from the intent expression on his younger brother’s face to the stubborn look on Ellen’s. “You two leave me out of this.”

      “Ellen. Dear, sweet Ellen, you’ve got to understand that it could be weeks—weeks,” he repeated dramatically, “before Michelle will be able to go out with me again.”

      Ellen put down an armload of cheese, ham and assorted jars of mustard and pickles. “No! Can I make it any plainer than that? I’m sorry, Derek, honest. But I can’t.”

      “Reed,” Derek pleaded with his brother. “Say something that’ll convince her.”

      “Like I said, I’m out of this one.”

      He raised the paper again, but Ellen could sense a smile hidden behind it. Still, she doubted that Reed would be