Читать книгу Her Hometown Hero - Margaret Daley - Страница 10
ОглавлениеKathleen stared at the nearby pasture where some mares with their babies grazed. There was something about the scene that eased the sense of panic the flashback to her accident had caused. For the first couple of weeks afterward, she had relived it several times a day. Now it was only every once and a while. Progress.
She grasped on to that and rose. Climbing the stairs to the back deck, she knocked on the sliding glass door to the den, which flowed into the kitchen area and breakfast nook. Beth waved and hurried to let her in.
Before she could step inside, her sister-in-law engulfed her in a hug. “It’s great to see you.” She moved to the side so Kathleen could enter. “Is everything all right at the cabin?”
“Yes. Thanks for getting it ready and stocking my kitchen.” Beth and Nate were the same age and had been friends growing up. In fact, Nate had introduced Beth to Kathleen and later to Howard. As Beth started dating her brother, Kathleen and she had become good friends. “You haven’t said anything to anyone about what happened to me in New York, have you?”
“No. You asked us not to. I’ll respect your wishes, although I don’t agree with them.” Beth combed her long brown bangs back and hooked them behind her ear, the gesture drawing Kathleen’s attention to her sister-in-law’s attractive features with green eyes, full lips usually set in a grin and a creamy complexion with a few freckles across her pert nose.
“What do Carrie and Jacob know?”
“I haven’t told them anything other than that you’re going to be staying here for a while. You said you want to tell them when you’re ready.” She smiled. “Besides, if I had told them, the whole world would know by now.”
“I’ll tell them when the time is right.” She wasn’t sure it ever would be, but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from her niece and nephew for long. Maybe soon she would finally get a handle on what she was dealing with. Then she could explain it in a calm voice that would reassure Carrie and Jacob she would be all right.
But will I be all right?
She shoved that question away as her niece and nephew ran into the den, saw her and rushed across the room. Kathleen braced herself for their hugs. Before she could say anything, eight-year-old Carrie slowed down as she neared her, but her six-year-old nephew threw himself at her. Beth tried to intervene, but she didn’t move fast enough. Kathleen rocked back, the glass door stopping her fall.
“Jacob,” Beth shouted. “Is that any way to greet your aunt? Bowl her over?”
With a wide grin, revealing a missing front tooth and sandy-blond hair lying at odd angles, Jacob leaned back, his arms still clasping Kathleen. “Sorry, Aunt Kit. I can’t believe you’re gonna be here for a while.” He crooked his forefinger, signaling she should bend over.
Kathleen did, shifting her weight off her prosthetic leg. “You’re growing like a weed. You’re going to be taller than me in no time.”
Jacob’s smile grew. “I’m gonna be like Dad. Big.” Then he planted a kiss on her cheek.
Which made up for his overenthusiastic greeting. Kathleen mussed his hair, then held out her arm to draw Carrie to her. “I’ve missed you two.”
“We’ve missed you,” her niece announced. “My birthday will be in two weeks. Are you gonna be here for that?”
“Are you sure, Carrie? Didn’t you just have one?” Kathleen teased, knowing how important birthdays in the Somers family were.
“No, I’m positive,” Carrie replied in dead seriousness while shaking her head at the same time, her brown-haired pigtails swishing from side to side.
“Well, in that case, I’ll put it on my calendar.” Kathleen stared into Carrie’s cobalt-blue eyes, so similar to hers.
“Okay, kids. Give your aunt some breathing room. You two are supposed to be setting the table. But first wash your hands. So scoot. I’m starved.” Beth shooed them away.
As the two children ran out of the room as fast as they’d come in, Howard entered. “I see you’re here.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I know how to follow directions, and if I’m not mistaken, I was instructed to be here for dinner or you all were going to invade my home.”
Howard harrumphed. “You may know how to follow directions, but that doesn’t mean you do. Don’t forget I know you well.”
“Yes, yes. For twenty-six years as you informed me earlier.” Kathleen ignored her brother and swung her attention to Beth. “Can I help you?”
The doorbell rang.
Carrie yelled from the front of the house. “I’ll get it.”
“Me, too,” Jacob chimed in, even louder than his sister.
“I fear for whoever is at the door.” Kathleen started toward the kitchen with Beth. “Are you expecting anyone?”
Beth stopped in her path. “Since you mentioned it—”
“Dad, Mom, Dr. Nate’s here,” Carrie announced for the whole ranch’s benefit a second before Nate made his way into the den.
Kathleen’s gaze locked with his, her heartbeat reacting with a faster tempo. Seeing him at the barn was all she could handle for her first day back home. He’d always been so perceptive. He’d figure out how serious her injury really was if he was around her for too long.
“Nate is coming to dinner, too,” Beth finished.
* * *
A room separated Nate and Kit, but he could tell even from a distance something wasn’t right with her. He wanted to press her for answers, but it wasn’t really his place anymore. They had ended their relationship, not on a bad note exactly, but not a good one, either. He’d loved Kit, but things hadn’t worked when they were young.
He’d finally accepted that and moved on. He’d even dated and become engaged, but in the end he and Rebecca hadn’t been right for each other. After a second breakup, he’d decided to pour his energy into establishing himself as a veterinarian and building up his practice with Dr. Harris at Harris Animal Hospital.
Maybe Kit had it right to put her job before all else. He still wished her the best and prayed the Lord filled her life, but after that brief time in the barn, perhaps he should keep his distance. Seeing her again made him think of what could have been. Now it was too late.
Nate plastered a smile on his face and crossed the den. “Cinnamon should be fine, but I’ll come again and check on her,” he assured Howard.
“That’s a relief. With Kit back, I want Cinnamon well.” Howard settled his arm over his wife’s shoulder. “Are we having dinner soon?”
Beth laughed. “Some things don’t change, Kit. Howard still wants his dinner by six. Give me ten minutes to finish up and for the kids to get the table set. It’s a nice evening. Why don’t you all go out on the deck, and I’ll call you when it’s ready?”
“Are you sure I can’t help you?” Kathleen asked, a reserve in her expression, her chin lifted slightly, her gaze on Howard and Beth as if she was trying to avoid eye contact with Nate.
She was used to performing before thousands of people, and he was beginning to feel that was what she was doing now. Why? What was going on here?
“I’ve got everything covered. Go enjoy the gorgeous spring day.” Beth scurried toward the kitchen.
Howard slid the door open and swept his arm across his body. “After you two.” Once Nate and Kit exited the house, Howard poked his head outside. “I just remembered I have to make a call to the feed store. See you two in a few minutes.”
As the door closed, a frown descended over Kit’s face.
“We can go back inside,” Nate said, watching her usual expressive dark blue eyes dull, her mouth tightening even more. Again he sensed something happened that he was missing. What could be upsetting her? She was injured, but by the way she, her brother and Beth acted it hadn’t been that serious. She would spend some time here and return to New York. Why would she be so tense and uneasy over the prospect of a brief visit? Had something else happened—something outside of her injury?
“No, that’s fine.” She turned around and leaned against the railing, her hands gripping it so hard her knuckles whitened.
“No, it’s not. What’s going on? You seem upset to be here.”
She stiffened, nothing relaxed about her now, although she still tried to appear calm. “Why would I be upset? I’m visiting my family. I have done that periodically. You’re the one that hasn’t been in Cimarron City.”
Her defensive tone put him on alert. He bridged the space between them and sat against the railing, folding his arms over his chest. “I’ve been here almost a year.”
“So you were here last Christmas?”
“I was living here but wasn’t in Cimarron City for the holidays. I went to Gulf Shores to be with my mom and dad. It seems you and I keep missing each other.” Only confirming in his mind that they were never meant to be together as a couple.
“Two ships passing in the night,” she said with a forced chuckle. “I’m surprised Howard and Beth didn’t tell me you were back.”
“And they didn’t tell me you were coming to visit until I showed up today. How long are you going to be here?”
She shrugged her slender shoulder, staring at the pasture beyond the backyard, her profile more angular than he remembered, but her brown hair, with red highlights, pulled back into a ponytail was exactly the same as it had always been.
Frustrated, he released a long breath. “I know we haven’t seen each other in years, but...” But what? They had parted because they weren’t in love enough to put aside their dreams for each other. He’d been trying to play college football, which paid his way through Auburn, and trying to fulfill what his father wanted him to do—go pro when he graduated or become a medical doctor. But in the end neither path had worked for him. By his junior year he could no longer pretend those choices were what he wanted. As for being with Kit...that choice had been taken out of his hands.
Kit slanted a glance toward him. “I’m not who I was.”
“Neither am I.”
“Yeah, you never went pro. In fact, you stopped playing football your senior year.”
“By then I couldn’t juggle the demands of premed and football. I chose my studies over the game.” A game his father had played and in which he had achieved some success as a pro athlete. Dad had been hurt that Nate had not followed in his footsteps. And then when Nate decided to go into veterinary medicine instead of becoming a medical doctor, his dad had been disappointed again in his decision.
“A lot has changed since then for both of us.”
The sadness in her eyes touched his heart. He reached out and grazed his forefinger down her arm, the physical contact between them electrifying. “That doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. We were once.” The words came out of his mouth before he could censor them. Okay, it wasn’t that bad. They could be casual friends. Surely he could do that. He’d had over eight years to get over Kit.
Her eyes glistened. “I don’t have anything to offer a friend right now. I...” She shook her head. “Tell Howard and Beth I’ll talk to them tomorrow morning. I’m going to have to skip dinner. I’m too tired from traveling all day.” She pivoted and strode toward the steps leading to the yard.
He wanted to go after her, but she’d erected a high wall between them. He knew she was hurting. He just didn’t know why. “Don’t go. They’ll think I drove you away. Did I?”
At the bottom of the stairs, she paused and looked up at him. “No, not really. I just can’t do this right now.” Then she walked toward the road that led to the cabin.
He started to follow when the sliding glass door opened.
“Where’s Kit?” Howard asked.
“Going back to the cabin.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure what happened, but she wanted me to tell you that she was tired and would see you all tomorrow.”
“Did she tell you anything else?”
Nate studied his friend’s face. “No, not really. Should she have?”
Howard’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I had hoped she would.”
“What?”
“I can’t say. She has to.”
“There’s something wrong. I knew it. Is it her injury?”
Howard swung around. “Dinner is ready.”
Nate gritted his teeth. What were they hiding? He intended to find out. Maybe the injury was worse than she had made it out to be. Had she been asked to leave the New York ballet company since she became hurt in the middle of their spring season? That would bother her since she’d dreamed of working with them above any other dance company. But if that was the case, he was certain she could triumph over the obstacle. When Kit performed, she pulled a person into the ballet story with grace and poise. She had so much to give the world with her abilities. Surely there was another company she could work with, if that was why she was upset.
He told himself it wasn’t really his concern. Whatever was troubling Kit, he was sure she’d find a solution—one that would take her far away from Cimarron City, and back to the world she’d chosen over him.
* * *
Having removed her prosthetic leg, Kathleen used her crutches to move around the cabin. She was thankful that Beth had stocked the kitchen, because she was hungry. She’d been looking forward to a good dinner, but had been driven earlier by her wheeling emotions to flee her brother’s house. When would she be ready to deal with others? Maybe she would have been better off staying in her apartment in New York, where she could be one of anonymous millions, in a town where she wouldn’t have to deal with others’ questions.
A moment of madness had prompted her to sublease her apartment for a couple of months and escape to Oklahoma. That, and her brother and Beth hammering at her resolve to stay in New York City. But the main motivator for her to leave had been when her dance buddies began ignoring her wishes to be alone and started dropping by to cheer her up. Nothing they did had worked. She knew she needed a change of scenery. As soon as she’d received the necessary help with her new prosthetic limb and the physical therapy she needed to be able to get around on her own, she’d hopped on a plane. She’d put everything into that, and since she was in good physical shape, she had succeeded quickly.
Now what do I do?
Kathleen rummaged in the refrigerator and withdrew some sliced turkey, lettuce and a tomato. As she searched for the bread, a knock sounded at her door. She thought of ignoring it, but when whoever was outside rapped again, she knew she had to answer it and tell the person face-to-face that she was going to bed soon and would talk later.
But when she opened the door, Beth charged into the cabin, carrying a plate wrapped in foil. “I know you’re trying to watch what you eat, but I figure you’ll get hungry sometime tonight so I brought dinner to you. Fried chicken is good hot or cold.”
“I was going to make myself a sandwich.”
Beth glanced over her shoulder at the turkey and other fixings on the counter. “Well, now you don’t have to. This dinner was made especially for you. I know how much you used to love your mother’s fried chicken. Howard tells me I prepare it as good as she does. I consider that a high compliment.” She placed the plate on the small dining table and patted her hips. “As you can see, I’ve enjoyed fixing and eating it often. You could stand to have a little of this fat.”
Kathleen stared at her friend, then for the first time in a long while burst out laughing. If she didn’t, she might cry. She laughed so hard that tears rolled down her face, and she swiped them away. “I’m not going to blow away.”
“Who knows? You know how windy it can get in Oklahoma. What if we have a tornado?”
“I’ll join the family in the storm cellar.”
“Sit down. Eat. I’ll get you some of the tea I fixed for you and put the turkey up. You can have a sandwich tomorrow.” Beth did as she said, then joined Kathleen at the table, sitting in the chair next to her. When Kathleen unwrapped the plate and took a bite of the chicken, her friend asked, “What do you think?”
“Delicious, but you don’t need me to tell you that. I’m sure my brother has on many occasions. If he hasn’t, I’ll have a word with him.” Kathleen enjoyed some more of the meat, then dove into the baked beans and coleslaw.
“Sorry the baked beans might be a little cold.”
“I haven’t eaten since I had breakfast at the airport this morning. And this sure beats that meal, even with cold beans.”
Beth rubbed her hands together. “I’m gonna fatten you up in no time.”
“We’ll see about that,” Kathleen said when she finished off the coleslaw. “You know how much I love this. Maybe you can teach me to cook. I guess I have time to learn now. With the company, my schedule was so busy that I usually ate out or had frozen dinners.”
“Carrie has been begging me to teach her to cook, too. Maybe I’ll work with both of you together. The three Somers girls.”
After appeasing her thirst with several large swallows of cold iced tea, Kathleen turned to the fried chicken again. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because this is my problem, not yours. I’ll overcome it like I have everything.” Kathleen tried to put conviction into her voice, but even she heard the flat tone as though there was no life behind the words. “Remember that summer I sprained my ankle? I was back dancing in six weeks.”
“This isn’t a sprained ankle, Kit. I wish it were. Let me help you.” Beth covered Kathleen’s hand.
She snatched hers away. “I’m fine. I wish people wouldn’t smother me. I’m not like a fragile china doll.” Or am I? She felt broken like one that had been dropped onto the concrete.
Beth’s eyebrows lifted. “Smother you? I’m not doing that. I’m being a caring sister-in-law and friend. That means being there for you—and helping you whether you think you need it or not. And it won’t just be me. Lots of people are going to want to help.”
“Why would they? No one knows what happened, right?”
“Yes, for now. But you can’t keep your injury a secret forever. Nate kept asking us why you were here, how long you would be at the ranch.”
“It’s none of his business.”
“That isn’t going to stop him. You two were in love once. I know it didn’t work out, but you all were so close in high school—the two of you, and your group of friends. They’ll all want to be there for you while you deal with this. Maybe it’s time you lean on the Lord, family and friends. There’s nothing wrong in doing that. We all need the comfort and strengths of others from time to time. It doesn’t mean you’re weak.”
“You think this is about feeling weak? I don’t feel weak as much as lost.”
“It’s not like your injury is a big secret. It was in the news in New York City.”
“A brief mention of a traffic accident buried in the paper. Hardly a big announcement and certainly nothing about my amputation.”
“I don’t want my children finding out from anyone but you, or at the least Howard and me. Just so you know everything, Reverend Johnson at church knows.”
Shifting toward Beth, Kathleen dropped her fork, and it clanged against her plate. “Reverend Johnson knows about my leg?”
Beth nodded.
“How? Who told him?”
“When Howard found out, he turned to Reverend Johnson for prayer and guidance. He was a big help. He won’t say anything, but I think you should at least talk to him. Hiding the seriousness of the injury isn’t the answer. You need to accept it and move on. Faith can help you with that.”
Kathleen struggled to a stand. Without her prosthetic leg, the movement made her wobble. Leaning into the table, she gripped its edge to hold her upright. “When something like this happens to you, then you can tell me what I need to do. Thank you for the dinner, but I’m exhausted and going to bed.” She fumbled for her crutches and positioned them under her armpits.
Painstakingly she hobbled toward the bedroom, weariness blanketing her like a blizzard covering the landscape. She sat on her bed, the sound of the front door closing.
Alone. The silence mocked her. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? A quiet place to think and reflect on what she was going to do for the rest of her life. After laying her crutches on the floor, she fell back on her bed, swung her legs up onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling. She didn’t have any answers to her questions, but she didn’t have the chance to ponder them for long, either. That last physical exertion whisked her quickly toward sleep.
* * *
Nate stared at the computer screen, reading the story in a New York City paper about Kathleen Somers being hit by a car while crossing the street the day before the opening of the first ballet she was starring in. Other than the bare facts, not much else was written about what happened.
He dug deeper until he found another article about Kathleen being replaced in the ballet company by world renowned prima ballerina Rachel LeMasters. So was she out for the rest of the season? Did this mean she was out of the ballet company for good? Was she going to be here longer than a couple of weeks?
He shut his laptop, closed his eyes and imagined her crossing the street, the walk sign indicating it was safe, unaware that it wasn’t safe at all. In his mind he saw her being hit, tossed up into the air and landing on the concrete. Limp. Broken. Alone.
He rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, trying to wipe the vision away. His heart pounded a maddeningly quick tempo against his rib cage at the thought of her dreams shattered just before their realization. But that wasn’t the case. She was walking about with only a slight limp. Surely she would be back to her old self after she recovered. She’d been hurt before and came back stronger, more determined to prove herself.
The urge to drive to the ranch and demand to see Kit swamped him. He clenched his hands and hammered one fist into the arm of the lounger. If only he’d realized, he wouldn’t have insisted to know why she was back in Cimarron City. He wouldn’t have pushed to learn how long she was staying—as if he were protecting his own heart. He was vulnerable where Kit was concerned.
It had been hard to walk away from her, but he had realized he was no longer an essential part of her world. He’d never understood her total sacrifice for ballet. He’d been able to walk away from football without a backward glance after working years to excel in the sport.
What worried him the most was that he’d seen a Kit tonight who almost seemed defeated. Feelings stirred deep in his heart. He didn’t want to see Kit like that. If she was strong and doing what she loved, then his sacrifice of their relationship all those years ago was for something. If she wasn’t with the New York ballet company anymore, then he’d make her see she could be with a different one. She could continue her career after her recovery as she had before. And with her gone from Cimarron City, his heart would be protected.
Barney plopped his head on Nate’s arm and turned his soulful dark eyes up at him. “Ready to go for a walk?” Nate asked.
His Great Dane gave one loud bark. Nate needed the fresh air and some exercise while he figured out what he should do about Kit, if anything.
He pushed to his feet and grabbed Barney’s leash. When he stepped outside on his porch with his dog, the warm spring air, sprinkled with a hint of rain and blooming flowers, enveloped Nate.
As he walked with Barney, frustration warred with his sympathy and something more elusive. At one time, Kit would have told him immediately about what had happened to her. Finally sadness won out over myriad emotions surging through him. Their relationship had come to secrets and barriers.
When he returned to his house, a teenager stood on his porch, peering into the window to his living room. Barney tugged on the leash, and Nate released his Great Dane.
Steven Case, a large, muscular sixteen-year-old boy Nate worked with in the church youth group, turned at the sound of Barney racing toward him. The teen laughed when Nate’s dog pinned him against the window, his big paws perching on Steven’s shoulders, and licked him in the face.
Nate mounted the steps to his porch and took a closer look at the boy. Steven was always great with Barney and usually loved seeing him, but tonight Nate glimpsed the tension beneath the boy’s demeanor. “Barney, come here.” As Nate opened his front door, the Great Dane went inside. “Something’s wrong, Steven. What is it?” He leaned against his railing.
Steven stuffed his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “I wanted to tell Dad that I didn’t want to play football next year. I can’t. He’ll be so disappointed in me, but I can’t take another season. The coach is always on my case. I’m not tough enough. My father wants me to learn how to hit my opponent by taking boxing lessons this summer.” He began pacing. “I don’t want to hit people.”
For different reasons Steven and he had played a game in high school they didn’t want to—Steven because he couldn’t tell his father how he felt about the sport and Nate because he’d learned football, a game he enjoyed, as a means to go to college. “Do you want me to talk to your dad?”
Steven whirled around, opening and closing his hands at his sides. “No. Don’t. He already thinks I’m a wuss. I don’t want to make it worse by having someone else handle the hard stuff for me. I shouldn’t have come tonight.” The teen stormed from the porch.
Nate slapped his palm against the post nearby. He knew better than to make that offer to Steven. First he’d messed up with Kit today and now Steven. At the rate things were going, tomorrow probably wouldn’t be any better, because he intended to confront Kit about what was going on.
* * *
Kathleen sat at the table, sipping her second cup of coffee and finishing her bagel topped with cream cheese. When she had decided to come to the ranch, she hadn’t thought beyond that. But on this first morning, she was faced with what she should do with her time. The insurance company had given her a large settlement to the point where if she invested it properly, she wouldn’t have to work ever again. But she would give anything to have her leg back along with her ability to dance.
She glanced at the stack of books she’d put on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She’d never had much time to read and had bought these eight novels, but after that, what?
With her chin resting in her palm, she stared at the clock on the wall over the stove. The second hand going around and around reminded her time kept moving forward, no matter how much she wanted it to go backward. She was almost twenty-seven and had no idea what to do with the rest of her life. She’d always been so busy with work consuming her. Now there was nothing.
She could see if Beth needed any help. Maybe she could ride another horse until Cinnamon was better. Or she could—
A knock interrupted her thoughts. Nine o’clock. Beth had waited longer than Kathleen thought she would when she woke up.
With a sigh, she made her way to the entrance and swung the door wide, ready to launch into all the reasons she wasn’t ready to tell everyone about her amputated leg. The plain truth—she just wasn’t ready to deal with the fallout of that announcement.
She opened her mouth to speak, but when she saw Nate standing on her porch, she quickly swallowed her words.
She looked Nate up and down, taking in his jeans, short-sleeve, light green shirt, cowboy boots and hat. He’d always looked good dressed as he was. “What are you doing here?”
His face reflecting a brewing storm, he moved across the threshold without waiting for an invitation from her to come inside.
“We need to talk.”