"I suppose you're wondering why I hung up," she asked after they were seated in a quiet booth, beneath a ceiling of dollar bills stapled above them.
"No," he lied as he chip-dipped salsa.
"I didn't take time to think," she continued. "Once I did, I came home."
"I'm just happy you're here. Nothing else matters," he said as he leaned across the table and kissed her.
"I didn't want to lose you."
"I called dozens of times." She just nodded. He could picture her sitting there, listening to the ringing telephone, but not wanting to answer it.
She looked away. "I should have talked to you, asked you why she was there, but I didn't want to. Not on the phone, at least. So I just came home."
"She came down to our room when I was asleep," he said. "I turned her out. She was hurting. Hurting terribly. She had no one. But what the hell could I have done?"
"You could have slept with her," Cynthia answered, brushing back a hair and looking down. "Some men would have. Maybe most. Ryland did."
"Yeah."
"But you didn't. I don't think you would have, even if you weren't married." It was his turn to look up at her. "Once I stopped to think," she continued. "You're smart enough to know that having sex wouldn't have solved any problems for Edith Shipton, and probably not stopped her from taking her own life."
"I feel like a shit about the whole business."
"Why?"
"Because she's dead. Because I should have seen it coming. Because I should have dragged her to a shrink or someone who could have talked some sense into her, or at least watched her more closely-protected her from herself."
Cynthia seemed to understand his hurt. "Edith Shipton was a very troubled woman, from the first time she stepped into Bird Song. Long before she came to Ouray, I guess. I don't know what would have helped her. Like Annie Quincy. I guess that's why she identified so much with Annie." Then she added, "Did Edith wear her white dress when she came to...your bed?"
"Yes. No. Sort of."
Cynthia smiled for the first time. "That rather covers all the bases, doesn't it? But I'm not sure it answers the question."
"She had the white dress with her," he answered, embarrassed. "I suppose she wore it down stairs. When I saw her, she...didn't have it on."
"She was naked?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Cynthia didn't say anything. Dean couldn't stand the suspense. "Aren't you going to ask me all those stock questions like 'Weren't you tempted? Were you aroused? Didn't you at least consider doing it?' I mean, it was the quintessential traveling salesman's dream, a naked and willing woman hopping into his bed, wife in another town, a freebie, so to speak."