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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.”
Chapter Three
Did Nate know about her leg? That question flittered through Kathleen’s mind as she closed the door behind him, then slowly turned to face him. She squared her shoulders, preparing herself for whatever had put that scowl on his face. It couldn’t be good.
“Why didn’t you tell me how bad your accident was? You acted like your injury was no big deal. You were hit by a car and then later replaced in your ballet company. That sounds more serious than you implied yesterday.”
One sentence after another pelted her as though she were being bombarded with buckshot. For a few seconds a flashback taunted the edges of her mind, but she shut the memories down and focused on Nate standing in front of her. “I prefer not to discuss what happened. I don’t owe you an explanation of why I’m here.”
Nate blew out a long breath, his scowl dissolving into a neutral expression. “Okay, you’re right, but we cared about each other a lot once. I still care. Your dance career is the reason we aren’t together today. Will you be able to go back? Is there any way I can help you with your recovery, like I did the time you twisted your ankle?” His look and tone softened.
She balled her hands so tight, her nails dug into her palms. Her wish to be a ballerina wasn’t the only reason they’d broken up. Nate had had his own dreams, too. They weren’t committed enough to see if they could work their problems out as a team because, although they dated, she had led a very separate life from his. He’d loved sports and had played every one he could fit into his schedule, especially football, which gave him a free ride to college. “There’s nothing you can do. I don’t need a cheerleader encouraging me to exercise.” That was the last thing she needed. It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out what her problem was.
“I’m sure you’ve become quite disciplined over the years to achieve what you have, but it doesn’t hurt to let a friend in.”
She ignored the last part of his sentence and said, “Yes, I’m very disciplined. I had to be to get where I was.”
“Was? Aren’t you going back?”
“Dance will always come first in my life.” Which was true, but now only as an observer. Averting her head, she moved toward the couch, needing to get off her feet. Her leg ached, although usually each day was slightly better than the one before. “Would you like some tea?”
“You still don’t drink coffee?” Nate fit his long length into the chair across from the couch.
She shook her head and made a face. “It tastes nasty, and I still don’t understand why you drink it.”
“It’s an acquired taste.”
“One I’ll never have.” The bantering melted some of the tension gripping Kathleen.
“I’ll pass on the tea.”
She relaxed against the cushion, hoping they were off the subject of her accident. “Are you out here because an animal is sick? Cinnamon?”
“No. I’m heading to the ranch next to yours, but if you want, I can stop by the barn and see how Cinnamon is doing.”
“I’m sure my brother or Bud would call you if there’s a problem.”
Silence reigned for half a minute while Nate glanced around the cabin. Kathleen frantically searched her mind for something to talk about other than her injury. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the extent of the damage. She didn’t know if she ever would be able to. She was still trying to figure out how to deal with her accident, and it occurred four months ago.
“Why did you decide to settle here?” Nate had come to Cimarron City at the age of fourteen, but before that he’d lived in Alabama—and his parents had returned there several years prior. “I’d thought since you chose to go to Auburn you’d live in that area.”
“Dr. Harris gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Besides, I’ve always loved it here.” He shifted his warm, gray eyes back to her. “I made a lot of friends, and since returning, I’ve had the opportunity to renew my friendships with many of them.”
Whereas she’d largely cut her ties with her friends in Cimarron City. When she had visited at the holidays, she’d only had time for family. She’d thought she had all she needed in New York, but she wondered if she’d really been alone in a crowd of many. She certainly felt that way now. Her friends in New York had the life she wanted and would never have again. It was hard to stand on the outside looking in.
“I’m involved with the youth at church,” Nate said when the silence returned. “There are some future ranchers in the group, and we’ve done some fun activities. Howard has allowed me to use his place for several field trips. We’re thinking about having a fund-raiser the third weekend in June at the Soaring S. I could always use your help in the planning. They’re raising money for a mission trip to Honduras in August.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be here at that time.” She didn’t know what she was going to do from one day to the next, let alone over a month away. Before she’d always had a very structured life with everything revolving around ballet. Now she felt as though she were floating aimlessly in outer space with nothing to hold her in place. Even the Lord had abandoned her. All her prayers had fallen on deaf ears.
“That’s all right. I can use any help you can give me. I’m desperate. This is the first mission trip I’ve organized, and I’m feeling a little in over my head.” He cocked a grin. “Okay, a lot.”
“What made you volunteer for the job?”
“One word—Howard. He heads the youth services at the church, and he recruited me. He thought I would be perfect for the high schoolers.”
Her laughter sounded foreign to her ears. “Don’t tell my brother, but I agree with him. You will be. How long have you been helping?”
“A couple of months. I casually mentioned to Howard one day that I was thinking of becoming involved more with the church now that I’m settled. I’m warning you—be careful what you say to Howard or there is no telling what you’ll be roped into.” Merriment danced in his eyes, making them sparkle like polished silver.
“I’ve been properly warned.” The last of her tension slipped from her shoulders. This type of conversation, she could handle.
Nate placed his hands on his thighs and pushed up. “I need to leave. I’ll feel better checking on Cinnamon since I’m already here. Walk with me?”
She’d planned to see her mare this morning. Although her leg ached, she wasn’t in a lot of pain. The more she walked the faster she would become accustomed to her prosthesis. “Sure.” While he headed for the exit, she struggled to a standing position, still not completing that simple action effortlessly.
Turning toward Kit, Nate held the door open for her to exit first, then fell into step beside her. “You never answered me about helping while you’re here. It’ll give you something to do and, as I said, help a desperate man.”
“I hardly think you’re desperate. You’re one of the most organized people I know. Let me think about it. I just hate committing to too much right now.” She couldn’t totally stop herself from favoring her injured leg as she strolled toward the barn.
“The youth group is a great bunch of kids—you’ll like them.”
“I haven’t agreed yet. You haven’t changed one bit. You can still steamroll a person into doing whatever you want.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear I haven’t lost my touch. Working with teens is so rewarding.”
She shook her head, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “As I said, let me think about it more than a few minutes. I just got here and haven’t even settled in.”
“That almost sounds like you’ll be here longer than a couple of weeks. How serious is your injury?”
Kathleen gritted her teeth and regretted her comment. It was hard guarding her thoughts and words, especially with Nate, who was perceptive and knew her too well. She didn’t have to be so cautious with Howard and Beth and that gave her a sense of freedom. Peering at Nate, she paused under a large oak tree near the barn, not far from the wooden bench under it. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.
His gaze fastened onto the action, and his brow furrowed. “You’re not telling me something.”
She didn’t want to have this conversation. It had been hard enough going through the process of telling Howard and Beth. She’d done that over the phone. Not half a day later her brother had been in her hospital room, ready to whisk her back to Oklahoma. To smother her with the help and attention he thought she needed. The problem was she didn’t know what she needed. She’d begged God to show what to do with her life since being a ballerina was no longer an option. She’d had no real choice about keeping her leg, and at the moment she didn’t feel she had many choices for her future.
“Your silence doesn’t bode well, Kit. Can you continue your career?”
Her throat closed. Emotions she’d tried to keep at bay since she’d returned home surged through her. She now realized leaving New York City had been her first move away from her dream of dancing as a prima ballerina. She’d been so close to reaching the top.
“Now you really have me worried.”
She swung her full attention toward Nate. “I didn’t ask you to worry about me.” I do enough of that on my own.
“What’s wrong with your leg? You’re limping. Will physical therapy help?”
“No...” The words to tell him rose in her, but a knot in her throat kept them inside.
“Have you thought about aqua therapy? I’ve done some with race horses, and it has been successful.”
“It won’t make a difference because...” She sucked in a stabilizing breath. “I lost my left leg from the knee down.” The last part of the sentence came out in a bare whisper.
But Nate heard.
His eyes grew round, and the color drained from his face. “Why didn’t you say something yesterday?” He cleared his throat. “I mean I went on and on about your dancing. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have said—”
“Stop right there. I’m not a porcelain china doll that you have to be extra careful with. I don’t want your pity.”
“And you won’t get it.” A steel thread strengthened each word. “I know you. If anyone can overcome something like this it’s you. I don’t pity you, but you can’t stop me from caring and being concerned.” Again that soft tone entered his voice.
She backed away until she gently bumped against the wooden bench. He closed the distance between them, trapping her. His gaze searched her features, penetratingly intense. She looked away and caught her brother standing in the entrance to the barn, watching them.
A band constricted about her chest as if Nate had roped her. Tears pricked her eyes. “I think you should check on Cinnamon. I’ll see her later.”
Please, Lord, help me get back to the cabin without crying. I don’t want Nate or my brother to see me have a meltdown. Please. Please give me this.
“Kit, you aren’t alone.”
Yes, I am. I’m the one who has to live with this. She squeezed past Nate and hobbled as fast as she could toward the cabin, her limp more evident the quicker her pace.
When she reached the safety of her temporary home, she sank onto the nearest chair, and the tears she’d thought she’d conquered swamped her, running down her cheeks.
She didn’t know who she was anymore.
* * *
A stabbing ache pierced Nate as he watched Kit limp away, but he steeled himself. She’d broken his heart years ago, and he was determined she wouldn’t again. But he didn’t want to see her like she was—he grappled with the word to describe it. Hurting, yes, but it was much more than that.
Defeated.
He’d never seen Kit give up. But they hadn’t seen each other in over eight years. He didn’t really know her anymore. He’d changed. Grown up. Become more focused on what he wanted. More anchored in his faith. Kit used to be a firm believer. Was she still? She would need the Lord to help her through the adjustments to a new life.
“Give her time,” Howard said behind Nate.
He pivoted toward Kit’s brother. “Who else knows?”
“Beth and our pastor. The kids don’t even know. Kit hasn’t accepted it yet. She tells me she has, but she hasn’t.”
“What can I do?”
“Like I said, give her time. She’ll get there eventually.”
“Will she be here that long?”
Howard stared past Nate toward the cabin where Kit was and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think she does, either. But this is the best place for her.”
“She’ll figure that out.” Nate prayed she would. He still cared about her as a friend. “I’m trying to get her to help me with the fund-raiser for the mission trip. Put in a good word for me.” Nate began walking toward the barn. “I’ll check on Cinnamon and be on my way. But I’m coming back. Kit may not think she needs anyone, but she does.”
Howard followed him. “Why are you doing this? You were willing to compromise years ago. She’s the one who decided to cut all ties when she moved to New York.”
Howard’s question stopped Nate in his tracks. He glanced back at his friend. “I didn’t want to leave college to follow her around the country, but I was willing to continue a long-distance relationship. She wasn’t, and she was right. It wouldn’t have worked in the long run.”
“Because her focus was on her career.”
“Marriage is hard. If both aren’t committed, it won’t work.” I don’t want to come in second in my wife’s life.
“You can say that again. Beth and I realized that real quickly in our marriage.” Howard started for his house where his office was. “You’re welcome here any time, Nate. You’ve got a standing invitation to dinner.”
“Thanks, but I actually enjoy cooking at the end of the day. It relaxes me.”
“Don’t tell Beth. She’ll expect me to start helping in the kitchen. That wouldn’t be a pretty picture.”
Howard’s chuckles filled the warm air as he walked away. At the entrance into the barn, Nate peered toward the cabin. The urge to go see how Kit was doing nipped at his good senses, but he refrained. He knew her well enough to realize he had to let her get used to the idea that he was privy to the extent of her injuries.
* * *
“Emma, you have a way with animals. What I call a special touch,” Nate said to his assistant at the animal hospital, then finished entering notes in a computer file for his last patient, a Great Dane, similar in coloring to his own white-and-black one.
“Dogs are my specialty. Now give me a cat and I’m often at a loss as to why they do the things they do.”
Nate laughed. “That’s because they have an independent streak with a touch of stubbornness. It’s usually their way or no way.”
“I do have to admit I’ve trained a few dogs like that. Some I’ve given up on. Not all of them can be a service or therapy dog.”
He leaned against the counter in the examination room. “I’ve been thinking about talking to you or Abbey about Caring Canines,” he said, referring to the organization that Dr. Harris’s daughter, Abbey, had started last year to help supply service and therapy dogs for people who needed them, regardless of their ability to pay. “I have a friend I think who could benefit from a therapy dog.”
“What’s the problem with your friend?” Emma asked, her long blond hair pulled back in her usual ponytail.
“This isn’t common knowledge and must remain between you and me.”
“Always. When I train a dog for a person or someone comes to get one, what information they tell me remains private.”
“She lost her leg from the knee down in a car accident and is having a hard time coping.”
“No doubt. That can be quite an adjustment. Abbey is working with some veterans who have lost limbs. We’ve even matched up the ones who want a therapy dog. Nothing beats an animal attuned to your moods, especially when you’re depressed. Is she having any nightmares about the accident? Sometimes people will relive the moment their life changed over and over when they sleep. Their subconscious at work.”
“I don’t know.” And he didn’t feel he was in a place to ask her—at least not at the moment. For the past two days since Kit had told him, he’d wrestled with what to do about the information, but he knew he had to help her.
“Does your friend have a preference on the breed of dog? Will she talk to me?”
“I’m not even sure if she’ll accept a therapy dog, but I have to try. She used to have a black poodle as a kid. Missy went everywhere with her.” He could still remember the day Missy died and how hard Kit took it. He’d hurt almost as much as Kit, watching her deal with her grief. When she cared about something, she did deeply.