Authors: Margaret Daley
“All’s well with the world. It has been righted again.”
Kit playfully punched him in the arm. “I do believe you are making fun of me, or is it the Somers family enthusiasm you’re mocking?”
“Neither. It’s nice to see that not everything changes over time.”
Kit chuckled, her attention swinging back to Carrie as she reached for the last gift.
It had to be Kit’s because everyone else’s was strewn in a chaotic mess about Carrie.
The girl paused and eyed the big envelope, then peered at Kit. Their gazes locked and Carrie carefully worked the flap up and pulled out the card. Tickets fell onto the child’s lap. Her eyes lit up as she picked them up. “Season tickets to the Tulsa Ballet Company.” Awe caused her voice to slowly build to the last word. Carrie shot up and rushed around to Kit. “Thank you! This is the perfect gift. I hope you’ll go with me this fall.”
“I will, if I’m here.”
The corners of Carrie’s mouth drooped. “I thought you were staying. You’re helping Madame Zoe this summer.”
“I’m staying for a while, mostly because I want to help
you
this summer.”
Kit’s words hurt Nate. He knew she needed to reassure Carrie, but again he felt he came in second in her life. It was a tough pill to swallow, even though it shouldn’t have been. They weren’t a couple and Carrie was family.
The girl’s smile returned. “Is it possible a couple of my friends could be part of the lessons? One tried out and didn’t get it. The other two wouldn’t even try out for the dance academy because they thought they didn’t have a chance. This would make their summer if you would let me.”
“If I’d wanted to refuse I couldn’t after that plea. Sure. Let’s start our first class this next Saturday first thing in the morning, and then when school lets out the following week and I have my schedule from Madame Zoe, we’ll figure out when to meet. But I want you to remember I might not be here the whole summer.”
Nate tensed at the repeated reminder that she might not stay.
Carrie held up two fingers. “Twice a week?”
“Are your friends serious about ballet?”
Carrie nodded.
“Then we’ll try three times a week if that’s okay with their parents.”
Carrie jumped up and down. “That’s the best present ever. I’m gonna go call them right now.” The child raced out of the den before Beth could react.
“I guess it’s okay if we dig in. But—” Beth looked pointedly at her husband, who had moved a couple of steps toward the food table “—the birthday cake is off-limits until Carrie returns.”
Howard threw up his hands. “I know.”
Seeing the playful teasing made Nate yearn for a family. He’d always thought he would marry and have children but after two attempts, he wasn’t sure if he was meant to be a husband.
He stood and offered Kit his hand. Without hesitation, she clasped his and let him pull her to her feet. “Are you sick?”
Her forehead scrunched. “No, why do you ask?”
One corner of his mouth tilted up. “You let me help you up without a word about how you don’t need my assistance.”
She moved into his personal space, her proximity causing his pulse to speed. “It’s been a long day with church, then riding with Carrie and Jacob. It was nice to have help—this time.”
“Let me know, then, when it’s okay to offer,” he said with a laugh.
She inched forward. He inched backward. “I know that I’ve been extra sensitive about trying to do things myself. I’m trying to learn to accept help graciously. It’s not easy. I’ve always been so independent.”
“I know.” Nate stepped back again several feet, drawing Kit toward him. He didn’t want the whole family listening.
“Then I’m asking you to have patience as I swallow my pride and accept assistance when I need it.”
The beseeching look she sent him melted his heart. If everyone weren’t trying to stare at them, he’d be tempted to kiss her. He pressed his lips together and nodded his head once, his gaze fastened on her. The pull toward her was strong. He dragged his attention away and looked over her shoulder. All four family members quickly busied themselves with loading their plates with food.
“Before we become the entertainment for your family, we’d better get our dinner.”
A soft blush colored her cheeks.
As she crossed to the table, Nate hung back for a moment, regrouping his scattered emotions. It didn’t take much for Kit to pull him back into her life and that scared him. Just ten minutes ago, she’d warned the group she might not be staying in Cimarron City.
* * *
Kathleen opened the door to her cabin, scooped up Lexie waiting in the entrance, then entered with Nate coming in right after her. Something had changed tonight at Carrie’s birthday party. When she placed her hand in his, something deep inside her shifted as though until that moment she hadn’t given herself permission to ask others to help her. She didn’t have anything to prove to her family or Nate.
Nestling her dog against her, she started for the back of her place. “I want your opinion about fixing up the other bedroom as a dance studio. It’s much larger than my bedroom and with the furniture out of the room, I think it’ll work.”
Inside her grandparents’ bedroom, she held Lexie in the crook of her left arm and swept her other across her body as if performing a ballet step. “What do you think? I’ll have floor to ceiling mirrors down this wall.” She pointed to the one that was long and uninterrupted by a door or window. “There would be a barre there and another one on the opposite side between the two windows.”
Counting off footsteps, Nate maneuvered around the bed and went from one end to the other. “It’s about twenty feet by fifteen. Is that big enough?”
“It is for small groups or—” She bit back the words she almost said.
“Or what? You can’t tease me with half the sentence.” He closed the space between them.
“Or if I want to dance for myself. Everyone tells me, you included, that I can still dance. I want to see if I can.”
Nate swallowed hard. “Just so you realize it won’t be the same.”
“I know that. But Madame Zoe wants me to choreograph a dance for the students at the Summer Dance Academy to perform at the end. I don’t want to run through it at her studio. I need my own space, especially with Carrie and her friends taking lessons this summer from me.”
“If it meets your needs, go for it. Does this mean you’re thinking of staying longer?”
“I’m not committing past the middle of July when the dance academy is over with. Honestly I don’t know what I’m doing from one day to the next, but as I become more proficient with my prosthetic leg and my strength and energy return, I have to do something with my time. I don’t like what I was becoming when left with nothing to do.” Why was she going to all this trouble if she wasn’t going to use it past the middle of July? She might teach after July, but if she didn’t, at least she would have a private place to dance for herself.
“I can help, if you need it. It’s going to require some work.”
“Great. I was hoping you would volunteer. I want to keep the cost down by doing as much as I can myself. I’ll have to hire someone to put the mirrors and barres up. But I want to refinish the wooden floor and paint the room a bright color.”
“Who is going to remove the furniture?”
“Howard and the ranch hands. There’s a storage shed for old furniture he’ll store it in.”
“So you have it all figured out. You’ve been busy.”
Kathleen tried to stifle a yawn but couldn’t. “I was up most of the night. I couldn’t sleep until I came up with a solution for where I would have Carrie’s class. I thought first about the living room, but that’s a more radical change to the cabin. I think Granny would be pleased with what I have planned for her bedroom.”
Nate took Lexie from her and put the dog on the floor, then clasped Kit’s upper arms and tugged her to him. “I think you’re right. She was one of your biggest cheerleaders when you performed.”
“One?”
“I was the other.”
“You were?” With the way dance had come between them, she was surprised he’d say that.
“You make your body tell a story. I used to find myself caught up in your movements.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “You never told me that.”
“I was a teenage boy. I didn’t know how to say it out loud without sounding like an idiot.”
She lifted her hands and cradled his face. “Thanks for telling me now. I always thought you tolerated my ballet like I tolerated your football.”
“Hey, you didn’t think my body told a story when I caught a ball and went for a touchdown?”
She laughed. “I’ll admit you were beautiful to watch on the field when you ran.”
He looped his arms around her. “When you get your new leg for exercising, maybe you can run with me.”
She embraced him. “We’ll talk about that at a later date.”
“Oh, that’s right. You were never a big fan of running.”
“I might change. Certainly other things have.”
He should let her go, but her beautiful face mesmerized him. For the life of him he couldn’t step away from her. He bent his head toward her, his lips brushing across hers.
Chapter Nine
K
athleen should have pulled away from Nate’s kiss, but she was frozen, unable to move other than closer to him. His arms tightened around her as if he never wanted to let her go. She relished the moment of being cherished. It had been so long. She felt whole, and for a few seconds she forgot that her life was totally topsy-turvy. Pouring her suppressed emotions into the mating of their lips, she clung to him, her heartbeat racing, her breathing shallow.
When he parted, he laid his forehead against her, his hands cupping her face. “Don’t ever doubt how special you are.”
A little voice in the back of her mind wanted to shout,
No, I’m not. What do I have to offer?
But she squashed those doubts for the moment. She wasn’t going to let them ruin a nice evening with Nate. Almost like old times—except they weren’t the same people they had been back then.
That thought finally sobered her, and she disengaged, putting some space between them.
He stared at her for a tension-filled moment, his body taut, his arms stiff at his sides. “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I don’t regret it, Kit. We’ve shared a lot over the years and I can’t forget that. I tried to and obviously I haven’t been very successful.”
Me, too.
But she wasn’t going to admit it to him. How could she, when she was floundering, trying desperately to hold on to part of her old life?
“I didn’t regret the kiss, either. I’ve been going down memory lane a lot since I returned home. The auditions for the Summer Dance Academy yesterday were definitely a journey I took for years,” she continued, purposefully turning the conversation in a new direction. “However, Carrie’s experience made me see them in a different light.”
“Because she didn’t make it?”
“Partly. But today I couldn’t stop thinking about the girls who want to learn to dance but don’t plan to pursue dancing professionally, especially as they get older. So often people have the mindset that if you participate for a long time, then you want to turn it into a career. Not everything in life is a competition.”
“Sadly for many, it is.”
“I want Carrie to love ballet for the pure enjoyment and beauty of the art form.”
“She isn’t the only one struggling with enjoying something just because you like it. That was what was bothering Steven yesterday. He enjoys football, but not on the level for competition. He wants to experience it for fun or as a spectator. His father doesn’t see it that way.”
“I’m worried about how Anna sees ballet from some of her comments before the committee meeting started. She’s good, but you have to be more than that to make it in the ballet world. We’ll see. I’ll be teaching her level for the summer.” Kathleen looked away, staring at the dark night out the window. A long sigh escaped her. “I know what it’s like to get close to your dream and have it snatched away as you reach out for it.” She brought her gaze back to Nate. “But I had nothing to fall back on. I wasn’t prepared for that option. I thought I had years before I couldn’t perform anymore.”
“Life can change instantly.” Nate snapped his fingers. “That’s why we can’t worry about the future. Wasted energy.”
“Easy to say. Hard to do.”
“I know.” He smiled and walked toward the door, pausing for a second next to her and giving her a light kiss on the cheek. “Let me know when I can help you with getting the studio ready.”
“I will.” She grasped the edge of the door as he left, watching him disappear into the darkness.
The feel of his lips lightly touching her cheek stayed with her as she turned out the lights and headed for her bedroom.
* * *
On the following Saturday after her first class with Carrie earlier, Kathleen dipped her roller into the soft-pink paint in the pan, then started on the second wall in her new studio. “It’s official—the kids are out of school for the summer. You should have seen them celebrating yesterday.”
“I remember those times. Ah, to be young again.” Nate began at the opposite end from Kathleen. “We should get through today, then refinish the hardwood floor tomorrow. When is your next class with the teens dancing for the fund-raiser?”
“Wednesday. That should give the floor time to dry and hopefully give me enough time to teach them the dances before the shindig.” She glanced toward him, seeing her reflection in the mirrored wall next to Nate. She looked a sight with splotches of pink all over her and stray strands of hair hanging loose from the bun on top of her head.
His gaze snagged hers, a twinkle in his gray eyes. “Yes. You look fine.”
“Who said I was concerned?”
“Your pinched mouth.”
“Okay. I’m not a very good painter. There’s more on me than on the walls. How do you manage not to get any on you?”
“I’m motivated. Pink wouldn’t be a color I would wear.”
“It’s a good thing this morning I taped off the windows, doors and mirror. It took some time, but if I hadn’t, people would have thought I’d given Jacob and his friend the paint and brushes, then left them unsupervised.”
“You’ll wash up nicely.” He gestured toward the walk-in closet. “You took the door off. Why?”
“It’s going to be my office. I know it’s small, but mostly I’ll store the music and recorder in there.”
One of his eyebrows hiked up. “Office. This is sounding official, long-term.”
Kathleen shook her head. “No, but it will be more of a time commitment than I’d realized. Carrie found many other kids that aren’t doing the dance academy that would like to have a lesson once or twice a week, and I can’t fit them all into one class session. I’ll also have a class in the afternoon on Tuesday and Thursday for them until the middle of July when the dance academy ends. I’m not committing any longer than that.”
“That’s longer than you said three weeks ago when you arrived. What changed your mind?” Nate finished one section and sidestepped to start on a new section of the wall.
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t want to move on without any idea where I’ll go or what I’ll do. This seemed as good a place as any to stop and regroup.”
“Have you heard from anyone in New York?”
“A couple of friends have texted me what’s going on.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“They’re good friends, and I want to celebrate their successes with them, even the woman who took my place in
Wonderland.
At first it was hard to see her and not think about what I can’t do.” Kathleen painted the same area several times before she realized it and sidled toward Nate.
“And now?”
“I’ve started thinking about how she’s bringing to life the steps I put together for one of the dances. It’s become easier to handle.”
For the next ten minutes they worked in silence. She chanced a look toward Nate and glimpsed a thoughtful expression on his face. What was he thinking about? She hadn’t seen much of him during the past week, but he’d called her a couple of times—mostly to talk about fund-raiser plans.
Tomorrow after church the youth group would come out to the ranch to start working on the old barn. With only three weeks to go, he’d always start out their conversations talking about that, but before they hung up they always ended up talking about their day, something they used to do when they’d dated. Falling into that pattern seemed so natural and a bit disconcerting. She decided the quiet took her thoughts in a direction she didn’t want to go—thinking about the future. She was trying to take it one day at a time and felt she could cope when she did that.
“After we finish the third wall, do you want to go riding with me? With my new prosthesis, I can lock my knee in position, and I bought boots with a heel, which will help. That way I can keep my left foot in the stirrup.”
“So that works for you?”
“I tried it out the other day. I did much better. It feels more natural to me, and Cinnamon is becoming quite accustomed to the changes.”
“Have you gone back to the ridge yet?”
“Yes, a couple of times. I only tried once again to climb it.”
“How far did you get?”
She stretched her arm as high as she could to reach the top of the prepared wall with her roller. She was glad that Nate painted the area close to the ceiling before they started. “I went a third of the way up before I fell. My other leg has the bruises to prove it. Instead of trying to go on like that first day, I stopped, rested and then made my way down the slope. That took all my energy.”
“Did Howard or Beth go with you?”
“No, they weren’t around to tell.” Kathleen kept her attention on the patch of wall she was painting, but she didn’t have to look at Nate to see the frown—the concern on his face.
“That’s not smart to go on your own. I know you’re used to doing everything by yourself, but what would happen if you fell and broke your right leg, with no one there to get help?” Disapproval dripped off his voice.
Her teeth dug into her lower lip. She wanted to protest, but she knew he was right. “I hadn’t intended to climb, but I’ve been doing better and thought it would work. I guess that was wishful thinking.”
“Tell you what. When you have the urge to tackle the ridge again, call me. Let me climb it with you, then when you can do it without any help, have at it. If you want to try today, we can.”
“After painting this room? Probably not a good time, but how about Memorial Day? You aren’t working, are you?”
“Nope. My turn to have the whole day off. Dr. Harris is covering any emergencies that come up.”
“Then how about early morning?”
“How early?”
“Come for breakfast at eight, and then we’ll go to the ridge.” When he didn’t say anything, she shifted toward him.
His stare drilled into her for a long moment. “What made you change your mind about doing it alone?”
“You. I see the ridge as a goal for me to complete. In dance I always set goals for myself to accomplish, but when I needed help with a technique or a dance step, I would seek someone to help me. This really isn’t any different. But the bottom line was the thought of breaking my good leg and probably being confined to a wheelchair for a while. I’m used to aches and pain when I’m working to achieve something, but letting my pride get in the way of safety isn’t smart.”
A slow smile curved his mouth, his eyes tender and caressing. “I’ll be here at eight, Monday.”
* * *
Nate stood next to Kit at the bottom of the hill, staring up at the top of the ridge. The bright sun warmed his back. A light breeze carried the scent of the cattle herd in a nearby pasture and rustled the leaves on the cottonwood tree near a stream, sending the white cottony seeds flying.
Nate passed the walking stick to Kit. “This should help keep you stable. I’ve done my share of hiking in the Smoky Mountains, and it has come in handy.”
“Thanks. Since I didn’t get many chances to hike in New York other than the subway stairs and concrete streets, I never thought of this.” Kit inhaled a huge breath as though fortifying herself for the task before her.
“I’ll be near to help when you need it. Otherwise you’ll do what you can by yourself. Will that work for you?”
She threw him a grin as she set out for the base of the hill. “Yes.”
Kit scaled the lower fourth without any difficulty but the next section was riddled with small rocks and pebbles and the incline was steeper. “This is where I run into problems.”
Nate pointed up twenty yards. “See that level part? Make it there, and we’ll rest. Then you can decide if you want to go further today. Nobody said you had to do it all in one day.”
Kit stuck her walking stick in the ground above her and planted her right foot near it, digging the stick in for stability. Nate stayed behind her, watching to make sure she remained steady and upright, especially when she moved her prosthetic leg. Slowly, one step at a time, she ascended the rocky incline, glancing back every once and a while at him. Sweat coated her face, and she had to periodically wipe her hands on her jeans to avoid losing her grip on the walking stick. When she arrived at the more leveled terrain sixty feet off the ground, she stopped and waited for Nate to join her.
He came up beside her and clasped her upper arms. “You’re doing great. I think the key is going slow.”
She raised her gaze to the top. “Before I used to scramble up it in ten minutes. It took me twice that time to make a third of the hill. Sometimes I think it might as well be a mountain.”
“A mountain-hill you’re going to conquer.” His look seized hers.
For a few seconds doubt shadowed her eyes, but then she gave her head a shake and said, “Yes. I’m feeling better each time I ride Cinnamon. Each time I climb, I’ll go a little farther until I stand on top again and shout to the world I made it by myself.”
“So you aren’t going to count the time I helped you?”
“Not the same thing. For months I’ve let my determination waver in this battle. Not anymore.”
“Good. Now, do you want to go farther or come back another day?” He released his hold on her, although all he wanted to do was draw her into his embrace and kiss her again. Maybe he would when they made it to the top.
“Let’s go further. See that place up there? I want to try and climb to it.”
Nate noted another level spot about fifteen feet above them. “I’m right behind you.”
Kit kept up her pace, but as she neared her goal, her right foot began slipping as she moved her left one. Nate started to grab her, but she clutched a lone scrub close by, stopping her fall. She paused, catching her breath, then continued the last few steps. When she reached her goal, she dug her walking stick into the loose ground and swung around to wait for him.
“I did it. Now, if only that scrub would follow me up the hill.”
He chuckled. “Quick thinking but I wouldn’t have let you fall.”
“I know.”
Her tone and expression nearly undid him. She hadn’t given him that look in years, and for the first time in a long while, he wondered if there was a chance for them after all. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Before he forgot they needed to return by eleven to help, as Howard said, “the second day of the barn raising,” Nate dragged his attention away from Kit. “We’d probably better head back. The kids and their parents will be here in forty-five minutes, and I don’t want you to take the fast way down.”