Authors: Margaret Daley
“Sorry to disappoint you. I didn’t make one this time.”
He swiveled around and backpedaled. “What? No dessert? Surely I didn’t hear right. You always have one.”
“I’m going on a diet and that’s one thing I’m cutting out, but you’re still invited to dinner.”
Nate chuckled and continued his mission to get Kit and Carrie for dinner. When he approached the barn, he slowed his pace and stopped at the entrance, peeking in to see what was happening before going inside.
While music from
Oklahoma
played, Kit was moving through the dance steps on the stage, half dancing as much as she could with her prosthetic leg. Carrie clapped over and over as Kit move through the piece. Red splotches tinted Kit’s cheeks, but she kept going. Then something happened. Her expression transformed from tension into contentment and a radiant glow shone through her eyes as though she’d become lost in the music playing and was back performing on the stage in New York. When she finished and came to a stop in the middle, she blinked, looked around and smiled.
Carrie ran to Kit and threw her arms around her. “You were great. I love watching you dance.”
Kit blushed but squeezed her niece and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have to be great to dance and enjoy it. Lose yourself in the music and let your body go with the flow of it. What does it say to you? What emotions take over? Let them pour from you. You can’t go wrong if you do. People will know it is coming from your heart.”
Nate didn’t want to eavesdrop anymore without Kit knowing he was there. He moved forward.
She glimpsed him and said, “Carrie, I suspect Nate has come to tell us dinner is ready. Why don’t you go tell your mother I’m going to fix myself a sandwich then go to bed early.”
“Okay, Aunt Kit, but she’ll probably not be too happy.”
“Tell her Nate is going to share a sandwich with me. That’ll make your parents happy.”
Carrie giggled and raced from the barn, giving Nate a grin as she went by.
“There goes my super fan.” Kit made her way to her bag and removed a hand towel, then ran it over her face and neck. “You don’t have to come to dinner at the cabin. I had to think fast, and that was the first thing I could think of that would get me off the hook.”
Taking off his cowboy hat, he bowed, sweeping his arm across his body, then plopping his Stetson back on. “I’m glad I could accommodate you. Don’t say I haven’t helped you.”
Gripping the hand railing, Kit descended the side stairs of the raised stage. “Never. You’ve helped me more than I had any right to ask.”
“Why do you say that? We’re friends, aren’t we? Doesn’t that give you the right to ask?”
“We both know we wouldn’t have broken up years ago if I hadn’t insisted. I’m the one who didn’t have the time for a relationship.”
He took her bag, then her hand, and started for the cabin. “Neither one of us was ready for that kind of commitment. You were right to end things between us. You don’t have to fix me a sandwich. I can always throw something together at home.”
“I know Beth. She asked you to eat with them. I’m not depriving you of your food. That’s the least I can do for using you as an excuse not to go to a family dinner. It’s been a long day full of a lot of emotions I need to work my way through.”
On her porch he turned to her, hooking her stray hair from her ponytail behind her ear. “Then that’s my cue to leave you alone.”
“No, please stay and keep me company at least through dinner. The one thing I’ve realized I need is someone to talk to about what’s going on. In New York I cut myself off from my friends when I needed them the most. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”
“Okay, if you let me make the sandwich.”
“You’ve twisted my arm, but fine. You can fix dinner.” Kit opened the door. Right inside the entrance sat Lexie. Kit bent over and picked up her poodle, nestling her against her neck. “When I’m here, Lexie always has a way of making my problems go away for the time being. I’ve lived without an animal for a long time, but now I don’t think I could anymore. You were so right about having a dog to help me.”
“Chalk one up for my side.” He drew a
1
in the air.
“While you’re fixing sandwiches, I’m going to get more comfortable.”
Before heading to the kitchen, Nate watched her cross to the hallway, dressed as she often was when taking classes, in a leotard and skirt, this one long. The foot of her prosthetic leg peeked out, clad in a ballet shoe matching her right one. Just standing before him, he couldn’t tell anything was different until she walked. Her limp was more pronounced this evening.
* * *
Kit sat on her bed to remove her prosthetic leg, then went through an abbreviated care routine, which she would finish after Nate left. But for the time being, her left leg was sore, and she wanted to go without her prosthesis. She checked for any signs of irritation before cleaning the area and massaging the skin.
She could have waited until Nate left in an hour, but if a relationship was going to progress, he needed to see her without her prosthetic leg. She hadn’t even shown her brother or Beth yet. For some reason, it seemed right to let Nate see first.
The realization she was falling in love with him again struck her like a bolt of lightning. For weeks she’d been telling herself he was only a friend, that their time had been when they were young and didn’t know what a relationship really meant. Over the years she’d dated other dancers, and when those relationships hadn’t worked out, she’d decided she wasn’t supposed to fall in love and get married. But now Nate had her reconsidering. Yet was she really ready for a commitment when she still wasn’t sure about her plans for the future?
After wiggling into a comfortable pair of knee-length shorts and a T-shirt, she snatched her crutch and stood at the side of the bed, steadying herself. Then she walked toward the open living area, her stomach solidifying. Her sweaty palms caused her crutch to almost slip from her support until she gripped it tighter.
The first thing she spied when entering from the hallway was the table set for two. Then she swung her attention toward the kitchen and caught Nate staring at her. Not in horror. Not in revulsion. His expression softened, his eyes gleaming.
His gaze stayed linked to hers as he crossed to her and cupped her face. “You’re the most beautiful person I know—inside and out.”
When he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his, it felt like what energy she had left drained from her, and she wrapped her right arm around him at the same time he wound his about her. His kiss possessed her, claiming her as his. Her crutch fell to the floor, and she depended on his support to stay upright.
In that moment she realized she wasn’t just falling in love with him—she’d already fallen. She loved him. When he leaned back to stare into her eyes, the words to tell him were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them. She wasn’t ready. It was still too new. She was still trying to figure her life out. She didn’t want to hurt him again.
“What kind of sandwich did you make?” she finally asked when the intensity in his look was robbing her of rational thought.
“You’re talking food after that kiss?”
“I burned a lot of calories today. First working with Carrie alone, then the dance academy and finally the rehearsal. I need nourishment.” She prayed he couldn’t see her newfound love in her face. Not yet. She pointed to her crutch. “Will you pick that up for me?”
He laughed. “I’ve got a better idea.”
Suddenly he scooped her up into his arms and walked toward the table. A thrill shot through her at being carried in his embrace. Lexie yelped the whole way until Nate eased her into the chair kitty-corner from him. When he straightened, she missed his touch.
“Is Lexie going to chew my ankle or is she cheering us?” Nate took his seat.
“Cheering. She growls if she’s upset or leery.”
“Whew. That’s good to know.” Nate bowed his head and blessed the food, then dug into his roast beef sandwich. “Howard got a call from the reporter to set a date. She’d like to interview everyone and film the rehearsal as soon as possible. Would tomorrow at five be okay? The rest of us in the barn will be quiet while they’re here. We want the piece shown as soon as possible, hopefully the Sunday evening news.”
“I feel like I’m being steamrolled. We aren’t completely ready, but the first dance is in good shape. We’ll work on that one while they’re here. I’m glad I told the kids it was a possibility.” Kit took a bite of her food.
“How did they take it?”
“With excitement. On Tuesday and Thursdays I don’t work as long with Madame Zoe, and Carrie and her friends’ lesson with me will be through by three. When you leave, I’ll give the cast a call to be here thirty minutes earlier than usual. That’ll give us some extra time to prepare for the interview.”
“Good. Beth will have her group here, too, although the interview will probably revolve around you.”
“That’s the part I don’t like, but I guess I can use my situation to help with the publicity for the fund-raiser.” Kit had come to that conclusion as she’d worked with some of the girls who didn’t make the Summer Dance Academy. A few had been so discouraged but she was trying to show them there was more to life than ballet—and more to ballet than the Summer Dance Academy. Not making the cut, which had seemed so tragic to the girls at the time, had actually opened the door to having other experiences with their summer that they couldn’t have managed if they’d attended the academy. She had to remember to see her own situation in the same light.
Nate frowned and lifted his glass to his lips to take a sip. “I don’t want you to feel you have to put yourself on display.”
“If I want to show these young people that tragedy doesn’t mean the end of a dream I must be able to talk frankly about my experiences. I’ve found with Carrie and her friends that’s the only way to make my point. Some of them were talking about not taking ballet anymore since they didn’t get into Madame Zoe’s academy. One of Carrie’s girlfriends asked what’s the point.”
His expression evened out, and he relaxed in the chair. “How did you answer her?”
“We talked about interests and hobbies. We don’t do them to become world famous or even to be on stage. We don’t do them to make a lot of money. We do them because they bring us satisfaction and joy. Then I asked the girls why they took dance in the first place and if they enjoyed it while they did it. Each one said they loved it. They haven’t said anything else about quitting since that first class. In fact, I’m having them do small parts in the performance, and they’re excited about that.”
Nate locked gazes with her. “You’re a natural teacher. I saw that today while you were working with the kids on the stage.”
“You think that’s what I should do?” She’d considered it but wasn’t sure.
“It’s not what I think that matters.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, looking across the room at the wall where there was a photo of her performing in
Swan Lake.
“What if what I want is to dance? That’s not going to happen.”
“When I watched you earlier running through some steps, you were dancing. It won’t be the same, but you can still do it.”
“I know. I’m trying to give up the notion of performing in front of an audience. There is more to ballet than that. I’ve discovered—or rather rediscovered—that lately with the students I’ve been working with. And choreographing the performance for the fund-raiser has been challenging but fun. Both have given me something to do this summer. Otherwise, I would have gone crazy with boredom.” Kit sipped her tea, part of her surprised by what she’d said. Until now she hadn’t really stopped and thought about it. She did like to teach and choreograph—more than she had realized in New York. For the first time she glimpsed a future, not quite as she’d envisioned this time last year, but at least one involving ballet.
When Kit finished her dinner, Nate took the plates and glasses to the sink, then picked up her crutch and brought it to her at the table.
“I’d better leave. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Just know I’ll be there cheering you on during the interview.” He glanced down at Lexie, now sitting in her lap. “Along with Lexie.” He bent down and brushed his lips across Kit’s. “I’ll let myself out.”
She watched him leave, stroking her dog, the action soothing. When she was alone, she held up Lexie. “I love him, but I also did when I was younger. I don’t know what to do. Should I say something to him? Or should I keep quiet because it isn’t fair to him to tell him, then leave like I did before? Lex, don’t tell anyone, but I need to go back to New York. I left my life there unresolved.”
Lexie snuggled against Kit’s neck.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you if I leave. I can’t do it without you, girl.”
Chapter Twelve
A
series of raps sounded at Kit’s door the day of the Western Shindig the following week. She set her teacup on the counter and hurried to answer it. When she pulled it open, Beth rushed into the cabin, waving Cimarron City’s newspaper.
“Your story is on the front page. You must have wowed the lady. First the television station and now the newspaper. When they get to the part about the fund-raiser, my name is mentioned.” Beth grinned. “My fifteen minutes of fame.”
“In my book you should get more. This fund-raiser is going to be a success tonight due to your hard work on the food and costumes.”
“Oh, I almost forgot the other reason I came down here.” Beth disappeared outside and when she came back in, she carried a bouquet of yellow roses. “I was tempted to peek at the card, but I didn’t.”
Kit knew who had sent her the yellow roses. Nate. He had done the same thing at her first professional performance and then her first one with the New York ballet company. That had been the only contact she’d had from him after they’d broken up. When Beth set them on the table, Kit plucked the card out of the greenery while her sister-in-law headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Kit asked as she saw Nate’s name sprawled across the white note.
“To get the other bouquet of flowers.” She brought in an arrangement of deep red roses. “You’re popular today.”
“Nate sent the yellow ones. Who would send these?”
“I suggest you read this.” Beth presented her with its card.
When Kit did, her hands shook as she stared at the name on it. Gordon Simms. The man who ran the New York ballet company. “My previous boss. How did he even know about tonight? Even if he somehow heard about the news story, flowers are something he’d send for a performance and no one knows I’m going to perform except you.” Kit glanced at Beth. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
“No way. Maybe Madame Zoe said something to someone who told him. You’ve said the business is small and close-knit.”
“I’ll ask her when she comes tonight. We need to talk anyway. Lately I’ve put in my time at the Summer Dance Academy and left without saying much to her. With this performance tonight and the couple of extra classes I’m teaching, I haven’t had a lot of time. I’m not sure how she feels about me teaching the girls who didn’t get into her program. She may feel I’m infringing on her turf, but my methods are different from hers.”
“And I appreciate it. Carrie gets so excited right before attending your class, and when she comes back, she’s still excited and happy. That hasn’t been that way for months with Madame Zoe.”
Kit started to say she was only teaching the classes for a while longer, but another knock at the door cut her off before the first word was out. She peered at Beth. “Expecting anyone?”
Her sister-in-law shook her head, moving toward the entrance. “I’ll get it. It might be Howard,” she said as she opened the door, her eyes growing round. “Who are you?”
Kit covered the distance as quickly as she could. “This is Gordon Simms.” She hugged him. “First these beautiful roses and now you. What are you doing here?”
Gordon, dressed in his usual attire of black pants and shirt, pulled back, clasping Kit’s upper arms and assessing her. “You’re looking great, and I’m here to see your production tonight and talk to you. Can’t a person come to support a friend?”
“I know that look. There’s more going on here.”
Beth breezed by Kit, waving Gordon into the cabin. “I’m Kit’s sister-in-law, Beth. Welcome to the Soaring S Ranch. I’ve got to go. So much to do. So little time.”
“She’s a whirlwind,” Kit said with a laugh when Gordon was speechless as Beth scurried away.
He combed his fingers through his wild mass of white hair. “I want her energy.” Scanning the living area, he moved farther into the room. “Cozy but not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“A Western theme. This is more eclectic than I thought.”
“That’s because it belonged to my grandparents, and they didn’t care what kind of furniture they had. If they loved it, they added it to their home.”
“Were they hippies in the sixties?”
The image of Granny and Papa as hippies formed in her mind, and she burst out laughing. “The very opposite.”
“You had very simple furniture in your apartment in New York. This is so...” He gestured in a flourish.
“Cluttered?”
“Right.”
Kit crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, cut the small talk. Why are you really here?”
Gordon’s lips puckered together. “I came to see your production.”
“And?”
“I wanted to wait until after the production to talk about this, but since you forced my hand, we’ll talk now.” Gordon strolled to the couch and sat, relaxing back.
Kit shook her head and took the chair across from him. “All right. You’ve piqued my interest.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “But I think that was the object of the visit this morning.”
He smiled. “You know me well, which is part of the reason I’m here to offer you a chance to choreograph a ballet for the company. There have been such rave reviews about the choreography in
Wonderland...
”
Kit tuned out the rest of his spiel. She couldn’t get past his proposition.
“Kit, are you listening to anything I’m saying?”
He clapped his hands, and she totally focused on him. “Sorry. Did I hear you correctly? You want me to choreograph a ballet for the company?”
“Yes, for the fall season. You’re the one who wanted us to do a ballet about
Alice in Wonderland.
You came up with half the dances in that ballet. You’re ready to do one by yourself. I’d like you to return to New York and help with others. Your creativity and knowledge of dance are what I’ve always admired about you.”
“Not my dancing?”
“Don’t get me wrong. You were a wonderful ballerina, or I would never have put you in a principal role.”
Were.
That word stood out, obliterating the rest of what he said. Again she was painfully reminded of the hard truth. It wasn’t going to change. Tonight would be her goodbye dance. “Let me think about it. When are you leaving?”
“I’m staying through Monday because I promised Zoe I would be a guest teacher with a couple of her classes.”
“I didn’t know you and Zoe were good friends.”
Shifting on the couch, Gordon lowered his look. “We started out in the same company and kept up with each other through the years long-distance. She’s my date tonight to this Western Shindig.”
Was something else going on? Why hadn’t Madame Zoe said anything to her about knowing Gordon Simms so well? Had she been instrumental in Kit getting a job with the company in the first place? Doubts began to nibble at her composure. “Let me think about it. I’ll tell you Monday after classes. It’ll be fun to see you with the girls,” she continued, shifting the topic so that Gordon couldn’t press her for an answer. “Madame Zoe had hinted to the older girls that someone would visit soon, but she wouldn’t tell them who. Or me.”
“I asked her to keep it a surprise.”
“Does she know you’re asking me to choreograph for the company?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to whisk her star teacher away without saying something to her.”
Again doubts and something much more insidious began to attack her. Did Madame Zoe want her out of the way because she’d been working with Carrie and her friends as well as Anna?
Gordon rose and came to Kit. “I don’t want to keep you from doing all the last-minute things I know need to be handled right before a performance. I’ll see you tonight.” He bent over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll let myself out.”
When the door clicked shut, the silence she’d craved when she first got here taunted her. She stared at the photograph hanging on the wall of her at another time in her life.
Father, I don’t know what to do. Please help me.
Would He answer this plea? He’d been so quiet while she’d been in New York in her apartment, wrestling with all she was going through.
* * *
During the intermission, Nate stood at the back double doors into the barn watching the sun starting to set. Streaks of rose, orange and purple layered the horizon and branched outward into the darkening blue. A light breeze cooled the air.
Howard came up to Nate, pushing his cowboy hat up on his forehead. “Don’t tell my wife this or she’ll think I’m a sentimental guy, but I often come here at the end of the day to watch the sun go down. This is one of the best places to see it at the ranch. We do have beauties here in Oklahoma.”
“Your secret is safe with me. And I agree with you. While working here in the evenings, I’ve paused to come out here and take a moment to appreciate God’s wonders.”
“I can’t believe how many people showed up for this fund-raiser. Many aren’t even family or relatives of our kids, but then we had some great publicity. You and the youth group will be able to do a couple of mission trips.”
“The publicity started with the television interview Kit had and got better and better. Look at the film crew. Kit’s interview went so well that they came back here for the follow-up.”
Howard looked toward the stage. “I see Beth signaling me. Intermission is over.”
Nate decided to stay in the back to watch the scenes from
Oklahoma
being performed. He knew how much this meant to Kit, and he prayed everything went smoothly. She’d put her heart into this production.
The first group of teens came out onto the stage with the backdrop of the Oklahoma prairie and cattle grazing in the tall grass. Nate’s heartbeat raced with anticipation and trepidation. What if... He shook the doubts away.
After each dance and song, the audience cheered and applauded. Nate joined in, putting two fingers in his mouth and blowing a loud whistle. The final performance with each group participating in the song “Oklahoma” brought the people to their feet. The teens took a bow, and then Anna, the lead dancer, moved forward. The crowd slowly quieted and sat again at their round tables.
“I am honored to introduce the last performance of the night. It’s not in your program so it could be a wonderful surprise. Kathleen Somers will dance in her final ballet of her career. Dance can be enjoyed by all, as you will see.” Anna swept her arm toward the side of the stage.
Kit came out in a long flowing white skirt that hit her at midcalf. He sucked in a deep breath. With her chin lifted, she positioned herself in the center of the stage, the elegance of her long arms and graceful hands pulling his attention away from her legs. Until she moved. As she flowed across the floor, he slowly released the trapped air in his lungs, marveling at the beauty of her steps. He found himself enthralled by the poetry of her dance to
Madame Butterfly
’s
“Un Bel Di Vedremo,” her heart in each movement, the thrill and joy on her face as the piece came to an end.
His throat swelled. Through a shimmering blur, he watched her take her bow to a stunned audience. One second. Two. Then the clapping began and a thunderous standing ovation erupted.
Transfixed, Nate sniffed and added his applause. Every time he saw her perform he was in awe of her ability. He understood now what she had gone through after the accident. Ballet was part of her. How do you give that up?
As she accepted a bouquet of flowers from the teens, he closed his eyes, holding the sorrow and joy inside. For the first time he questioned God and why He allowed the ability to perform professionally to be taken away from Kit. He turned away from the stage and stared at the darkness beyond the back doors.
* * *
Surrounded by the teens, Kit finally started backstage to make way for the square dancing to begin. But not before she’d seen Nate turn away. Had her performance upset him? Disgusted him? She’d had to modify the steps and rely more on her arms than the choreography usually called for, but she wanted to convey the emotions of love and sadness the song from
Madame Butterfly
evoked.
“Thank you all for doing such a great job tonight. I suggest you all change and go out and enjoy square dancing. It’s fun.” Kit swept her gaze around the group.
“How about you?” Anna asked as the kids dispersed.
“I’ve danced enough today. I’m going to enjoy watching you all.”
Where is Nate?
Anna turned to leave, stopped and swung back around. She gave Kit a hug. “You did great.”
I’m not going to cry. I’ve done enough of that to last two lifetimes
.
Kit gulped. Quickly she headed for her makeshift dressing room, a stall, to change. She’d needed to prove to herself she could do one last dance on her terms. She had. But why had Nate looked away?
She dressed in her jeans and a Western shirt with fringe, checked herself in the mirror, then parted the curtains to leave.
Nate stood outside, his shoulder cushioned against the wall. His eyes skimmed over her, and he gave a wolf whistle. He came to her.
She started to step away, still remembering his back to her as she skimmed the audience at the end. But she allowed him to grasp her hands and hold them up between them as he moved even closer. “What did you think?” Her lungs seized her next breath.
“Granted I’m not a ballet expert, but that was the most beautiful dance I’ve ever seen. Watching the emotions behind your moves was stunning.” His voice heavy and thick, he swallowed hard.
“So I didn’t make people uncomfortable?”
I didn’t make
you
uncomfortable?
“Were you in the same place I was? Did you hear the applause at the end?”
His slow smile that reached deep into his eyes cloaked her in a sense of finality—ending one chapter in her life and beginning a new one. “Yes, but I wondered if they were just being kind.”
“Not from what I saw on their faces and their enthusiastic response to your performance. They, like myself, knew they were viewing something extraordinary. It brought tears to my eyes. Good tears.” He inched even closer until nothing separated them. “That couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“One of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but if I can’t perform, I can at least help others not give up on something they love because of a setback. These past weeks I’ve realized I can dance, even if I can’t perform. I don’t have to give up what I love totally. I’ll enjoy it differently.”