Katia's Promise (15 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A
USTIN
SHOVED
HIS
cold hands into the pockets of his battered, sheepskin-lined leather bomber jacket. His grandfather, David McCreary, had worn this coat in WWII as the pilot of a P-51D Mustang when he’d flown as a long-range, high-altitude escort for bombing campaigns against Germany with the 354th Pioneer Fighter Group.

Austin was watching the steel frame of his museum take shape, beams and girders creating the skeleton of the three-story building. Considering his grandfather’s bomber jacket, he mused about the possibility of erecting an air museum someday. Second only to his cars was Austin’s fascination with old airplanes. Combat airplanes, to be exact. He marveled over the kind of courage it took for men during the First World War to risk their lives in flimsy aircrafts. The untested, highly combustible engines were as great a threat to a pilot’s life then as enemy bullets.

The inventors and designers of those first planes, as well as the first automobiles, were dead. Even their children were dead. Their exploits and triumphs would wane in the minds and imaginations of present and future generations. Their lessons would be lost, if not for...

“Lunatics like me,” Austin said aloud, lifting a paper cup of Maddie Strong’s cappuccino to his lips. The coffee warmed him.

Despite the cold, he wanted to stay out here long enough to give Hal further instructions before going back to the plant to check on the shipment of serpentine belts to his new corporate client. While he’d been consumed with planning and building the museum for months, the orders at the plant had continued to flow. They might never reach the peak levels he’d enjoyed before the crash of 2008, but still, his business was steady, he hadn’t had to downsize his staff like other manufacturers in the area and his family’s three-generation reputation for making good products was paying off. Austin had to admit, with a great deal of gratitude to God, that his life continued to float along on an even keel, slipping around dangerous obstacles and always sailing safely into port.

At least it had until Katia had returned to town.

Austin sipped his coffee again, but it had grown cold. He tossed the contents across the frost-covered ground. Lately, Austin had begun to feel as if he was sliding over the edge of a bottomless waterfall. Of all the sensations in the world Austin abhorred, it was a free fall. He had no bearings, no parachute... All he saw was Jack Carter’s smug look as he gazed down at Katia.

Austin had never been a jealous person. He’d had nothing and no one to be jealous about. Except perhaps for that rash of raw envy he experienced every year when he watched Wimbledon, wishing he was the reigning world tennis champion. Maybe he hadn’t taken enough risks in his life, which would have pitted him against foes and challenges. In most ways, he’d been flat-out lucky. Maybe the universe was saving up all his bad karma for one massive attack that would bring him down.

However, his every waking moment was consumed by this invasive, almost debilitating virus that forced him to focus on that instant when Jack had put his hand on Katia’s shoulder and looked at her as if she was the only woman in the world. And he didn’t have the first clue how to eradicate his system of the disease.

It was naive to think that Katia hadn’t had some kind of love life after leaving Indian Lake. She was, hands down, the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. He’d had very short-term flings at car shows around the country, but he’d never been even remotely serious about anyone. Staying single had served him well. His life had been serene and pleasant. It had also grown stale and boring.

Deep down, he had to admit that he distrusted women because Katia had left him. At least that was how he’d explained his commitment phobia for the past eighteen years. The other problem was that Austin had never met a woman who measured up to the Katia he’d known. Austin didn’t want a wife or someone to be the mother of his children. He wanted a friend and a companion. He wanted someone who understood his solitary ways and how to pry him out of his self-induced exiles. Austin wasn’t looking for an adrenaline junkie or supermodel like the women he’d met at auto auctions.

“What I want is Katia,” he said aloud, his words whipping away from him on an icy wind. The revelation was clear as glass.

But Katia had moved on. She’d built a life in Chicago, with Jack. He had no illusions now about why she’d moved her company to Indian Lake. She intended to capture a new market and new clients. Apparently, Austin had been at the top of her shopping list, and he’d fallen for her sales pitch. He’d signed the contract she needed to impress her boss.

In the darkest part of his mind, the realization that Katia was using him crept out of its hole. If that was true, then he could never let himself trust her. And if he couldn’t trust, his love was doomed to misery; perhaps even more misery than he’d already endured because of her.

Katia had said she and Jack were only friends, at most. She could very well not have any feelings for her boss at all, but that didn’t automatically mean she cared for Austin.

And that was the meat of the problem. Austin really didn’t know where he stood with Katia. It was sad, he thought. He’d been branded by a slow ring of fire the first time Katia had stepped foot in his house—and they’d only been children.

Even then, her cool blue-green eyes had seemed to look deep into his heart and read his every wish and fear. Austin didn’t believe in soul mates, per se, but there had to be a reason that Katia had been part of his childhood and had returned at this juncture in his life, right when he thought he should be sitting on top of the world. But the fact was, there was a melancholy to building his museum. Sure, he was creating a testimony to his father and great-grandfather, but at the same time, he was finally facing a kind of grief he’d never experienced before.

All his life, he’d clung to the past and found solace in history because it was irreversible.
He
was the future, and that brought both responsibility and dread.

Austin had always felt he didn’t measure up. He hadn’t founded a company, won a national trophy or garnered a title. He was just a guy whose laurel wreath had been put there by his parents. As he took stock of his life, he realized it wasn’t a glass that was half-f. It was empty.

With each day and each rafter that the crews riveted to his museum, the project grew closer to its conclusion. It would be finished.
And then what, Austin?

His passions would need refueling, if not a change of direction.

He glanced at his cell phone. There was a missed call from Katia, but his phone had not rung. She’d left a message.

He couldn’t fight the smile that broke across his face as he hit the voice mail button.

“Hi, Austin. It’s Katia. We need to get together soon. If I remember correctly, your attic is crammed with crates of Christmas decorations that I need to go through. How about Saturday morning?”

He hit the call-back button, and Katia answered on the first ring.

That was a good sign.

“Hey. I missed your call.”

“Austin, I can barely hear you,” she replied. “Are you in your car?”

“I’m at the job site. The wind is picking up. Listen, I can’t do Saturday. Rafe and I have a handball game. Then a workout. How about Friday night? After work? Unless you have a date or something,” he purposefully probed.

“A date?” she laughed. “Friday night would be great. I could bring over pizza.”

Austin exhaled as the rancid taste of jealousy dissolved in his mouth. No date. No Jack. Austin had asked about Friday as a test to see how high Jack was on Katia’s priority list. Jack had just arrived in town, and if they were serious about each other, Jack would have expected this first weekend from Katia. Friday was the end of the workweek, time to celebrate a job well done. A night to go out. Dance, maybe. Hit a club or two. That kind of thing was hard to do in Indian Lake, but for Jack? Austin bet he’d drive into Chicago on a fraction of a whim. Yes, Friday night would have been sacrosanct to a man like Jack. At least, it would have been to Austin if he’d had Katia in his life.

Feeling confident, Austin pressed Katia further. “You don’t have to do that. I can have Daisy whip us up something. I was thinking angel-hair pasta and scallops.”

Katia laughed. “Austin, it’s barely past breakfast. You’re thinking with your stomach, like you did when we were kids.”

“What’s wrong with that? The culinary arts are the one thing that lift our lives out of the mundane.”

“Who said that?”

“I saw it in a movie, I think. It might have been Benjamin Franklin.”

“You said that because you know I like to cook,” she bantered.

“Oh, yeah? Prove it. You make the pasta and scallops, then. I’ll give Daisy the night off.”

“Deal. So Friday night, then. I can be there at six.”

Austin hung up and listened to the Canada geese honking as they flew in huge flocks across the endless pearl-gray sky. This time of year had always depressed Austin, and he couldn’t pack his bags fast enough to head to sunny Arizona where he would browse the car shows, meet with antique car collectors and pretend his life was full of excitement and purpose.

But in one phone call with Katia, his adrenaline had shot off the charts, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Even his hands had warmed. He tried to warn himself that one Friday night wouldn’t quiet all the alarm bells that had gone off when he’d seen Katia and Jack together. There was still the possibility that Katia had feelings for Jack.

Austin’s strategy now was to find out if Katia had any of those old feelings for him.

* * *

K
ATIA
WAS
WEARING
skinny jeans with a light sprinkling of rhinestones on the back pockets, a gray turtleneck sweater and gray suede boots when Austin opened the door for her. She carried her black peacoat over one arm, and held a yellow-striped bakery box of Maddie’s cupcakes in the other. She offered the box to Austin.

“Maddie said these were your favorites. And there’s a lemon one with lemon-curd filling for Daisy, which is her favorite.”

“Really?” Austin asked, looking down at the box. “I didn’t know that. Thanks.” Then he met her eyes and felt his heart trip. Did she know she had that effect on him, and if she did, would she use it against him?

Katia’s face filled with anticipation, as if this little gift for him meant something more than just a token of thanks. Austin sensed she wanted to please him in some way. He liked that.

“Come in,” he said, taking her jacket. “It’s getting cold out there.”

She stepped over the threshold and rubbed her shoulders. “It doesn’t bother me. In fact, I walked from my apartment. It was brisk, but really not all that bad.” She glanced into the living room, where a fire was going. “It’s cozy in here.”

“I thought we’d need some cheering up after spending time in that dreary attic. Let me put these things in the kitchen, and then we can get to work. Are you really ready for this?”

She rubbed her hands together greedily. “I can’t wait. I remember so many treasures up there. I hope they’re still there.”

His shoulders slumped as his eyes slid toward the staircase. “I haven’t been to the attic since my mother died...”

Suddenly, she was at his side, her hand on his cheek, her deep green eyes peering deeply into his. Her expression was filled with sincerity and concern. “Oh, Austin. I didn’t even think about that and what all this would mean to you. Maybe this whole tour thing isn’t a good idea. We might resurrect the wrong ghosts, and I don’t want to put you through any pain. That’s the last thing I want.”

Hoisting her jacket over his shoulder, he covered her hand with his. He wouldn’t peel his eyes from hers for all the money in the world. “I didn’t think about it, either, until just now, but if we do it together, I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

He lifted his chin. “You know, I forgot to thank you, Katia, for being there for me when I was a child. There were so many rough spots, and you helped me through them.”

“I loved you through them, Austin,” she said. “I wish I’d known about Hanna’s death. I would have come back for her funeral. For you.”

He shook his head and pulled her hand away, though he didn’t let go. “I don’t think so. It was over ten years ago. I wouldn’t have wanted to see you. I was still too angry. To intent on revenge.”

She gently squeezed his fingers. “Do you still want revenge?”

Austin thought of a dozen things he wanted from Katia right now, right here, starting with a kiss. He wanted to hold her in front of the fire. He was curious about what kind of plans she’d made for her future, and mostly, he wanted to know just exactly where he fit into her world. Was he just a client? Just a former teenage crush? Could they ever be real friends again? He studied her face. “No, Katia. I don’t want revenge. I’ve gotten past all that. Negative feelings are a waste of energy and time. For years, I put thoughts of you in a box and locked you away like the decorations in the attic. Now that you’ve explained why you left the way you did and why you didn’t contact me, I understand. I guess.”

A soft smile picked up the corners of her mouth. “But you’re not sure.”

“Not entirely sure, no,” he said.

She slipped her arm around his neck and moved closer. Agonizingly close. “I bet I could remind you very quickly,” she whispered.

Katia’s voice filled Austin’s mind with a fast-forward video of their youth. He remembered a thousand stolen moments, a thousand kisses and whispers. He was toast.

“Katia, if you’re going to kiss me, you better do it, or I’m going to drop dead on the spot.”

“I’m not,” she said, and pulled away. “I just...can’t get involved with you, Austin. Not that way.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated, but basically I could damage my career. You’re a client, Austin. It’s against corporate policy.”

“And is that all I am to you, Katia? Another set of figures to add to your sales quota?”

“Austin! I can’t believe you’re saying this.”