That Friday had been one of those long, long days. She got out of her filthy work clothes, went into the bathroom, lit a couple candles, dimmed the light, threw a scented oil bead in, and let the hot water run until the tub was filled. She'd decorated her bathroom beautifully, an old oriental rug that been left in the house lay on the wooden floor, an antique dresser against the wall served as both storage and decoration. An old workbench she'd painted stood next to the tub, handy for placing tea, magazines or anything else there. The atmosphere of the pretty room was peaceful and calming.
Kate shut off the water and climbed into the steaming tub. It was always a relief to take off her dirty, dusty clothes and free her skin. The water engulfed her and it felt like heaven. She sunk down to her nose and then laid her head back for serious relaxation. Sipping at the sweet tea, she picked up the new magazine she'd found in her mail that day.
Tray was downstairs knocking at the door, but Kate was so lulled into tranquility that she didn't hear him. After waiting a few more minutes, he became worried. He knew she was home, her old truck was parked out front. She could have run down to Marge's and after all, he'd only mentioned that he might be stopping by, nothing definite. But he couldn't stand not seeing her, so he gave it one last try by walking around the back of the house, thinking she might be reading in her room.
"Kate," he called up to her bedroom window.
"Tray, is that you?" she answered, picking up her head.
She leaned over the edge of the tub and opened the window a crack, "I'm up here," she called down to him.
"Are you trying to sleep?"
"No, it's okay, come on in, you know where the key is."
"Be right up."
She heard the front door squeak open and close, then heard heavy footsteps climbing the wooden stairs.
"I'm in the bathroom," she said loudly.
He pushed open the slightly ajar bathroom door.
"Hi," he smiled.
"Hi, I couldn't bear to get out of the tub, I just got in and it feels so good."
"It looks good too."
"Then why don't you join me, it's big enough," she invited him.
He just looked at her for a minute, the idea seemed kind of silly; like the kind of thing seen in one of those sappy love movies. But why not, there was candlelight, sweet fragrances, hot water and a gorgeous naked woman. He was a masculine kind of guy, but he certainly wasn't an idiot. Kate laughed as he quickly began to undress, throwing his clothes about and climbing in.
"Whoa," he said as the water rose, "I don't want to flood the place."
"It's fine, we just can't splash around."
"I wasn't planning on splashing, maybe a few other things."
"Can you do that in a tub?" she asked.
"Anything's possible if you want it bad enough," he retorted.
She leaned back and rubbed his feet as he did the same for her.
"Tell me about your day," she said.
"Um, let's see, it's a little difficult for me to concentrate with all this going on," he replied, trying to focus on their conversation. "Uh, where was I?"
"Nowhere, you didn't say anything yet."
"Oh, my day, my day, all right, what did I do today... You know what, you're driving me crazy, forget about talking," he gave up as he leaned forward and kissed her. "This is the most important thing I'm doing today," he whispered to her as they used the tub for something other than bathing.
Kate blew out the candles in the bathroom and hung up the towels before joining Tray in the bedroom where he was under the covers and appeared ready for sleep. She hung her soft robe on a chair beside the bed and snuggled in next him. He softly rubbed her back as she laid her head on his strong chest.
She thought he was sleeping when his low voice caused her to open her eyes.
"Kate," he said softly.
"Yes."
"You know I love you, don't you?"
He'd caught her off guard with his words, as usual.
"Yes, though it seems too good to be true," she replied honestly.
"I don't use those words lightly, I need to mean it to say it. I don't think it's right or fair to use them casually, as people do all the time."
"I understand, I love you too Tray."
"Do you really mean that?"
"Yes, I do. I wasn't sure exactly what love was, I know that's why you're asking me, but I've never had these feelings before. You're my closest friend, I trust you, I respect you, I desire and admire you, I think of you always," she elaborated.
He kissed the top of her head and put his arms around her. She looked into his handsome face.
"Kate, I don't want us to end, ever. You fill up my heart. Remember how I said I didn't need anything or anyone else in my life, that it was already everything I needed?"
She nodded her head.
"Well, it was everything I needed until I met you, now it's not complete without you," he exposed his innermost feelings to her.
"I know you didn't want complications in your life and I certainly wasn't ready for any, but from the moment I saw you, talked to you, there was this enormous pull that I couldn't fight against. Marge says people fit together, that they know if they are meant for one another. Well, you fit me and I think we are meant for each other," she explained rather shyly.
He smiled at her, "we are meant for each other, I've been waiting all these years for you."
He kissed her and they fell asleep in a very warm embrace.
"Damn, I'm late," Kate awoke with a start. "Stupid nightmares."
She'd been waking up almost every night around two in the morning or rolling around restlessly as annoying dreams plagued her mind. It seemed that the closer she got to Tray, the more her subconscious tortured her. She repeatedly dreamt that she'd wake up and be back to her old life, trapped in that crummy town and back to looking like she did before the accident. What would happen if she did wake up one morning without the face and body she'd grown accustomed to, that which had made her life sweeter and more enjoyable. It was nice being pretty, it was easier not to be laughed at, teased or ignored altogether. But she couldn't live in fear every minute of her life. If her appearance did revert to what it had been, she'd pick up and leave. She'd already proven to herself that she could start over in a new place, work and succeed. She hated the thought of having to leave the state she'd fallen in love with and the people she'd come to care so much for, but she'd go if need be. As Jane, she wouldn't be able to face any of them.
She threw on her work clothes, a couple of jackets and ran out of her house that frosty October morning. She was puffing as she ran in the front door to help Marge with breakfast.
"Kate, why didn't you drive the truck over?" Marge laughed as she took notice of Kate's red face.
"Because I can cut directly through the field to get here, whereas I have to go all the way around if I drive."
"I told Eddie to bring over that old sofa his parents were about to throw out. I figured you and I could recover it together, I have a bunch of material, you can pick out which pattern you like."
"Really, that would be great," she said with excitement, loving anything that had to do with fixing up her home. "But I don't know when you'd have the time Marge, with harvesting going on."
"Don't worry about that, we can do it on Sunday afternoons, after church. I'm sure Molly and some of the gals would give us a hand too, especially if you provide the refreshments."
"I'd be happy to. I love the throw pillows Molly made me, I'll have to have her for a sleepover again to thank her."
"She'd like that."
"You do so much for me, Marge, you know you can count on my help for your next house project."
"My next project is the harvest festival and I'll need all the help I can get if you're willing."
"Of course I'm willing, what is the harvest festival?"
Marge laughed, "you committed to it, but you don't know what it is."
"Is it too late to back out?"
> "Yes. The festival is always at the end of October, after the harvesting is over. It started out years and years ago with my great grandparents as a way of gathering the community together, which was tiny back then, to commemorate the harvest and good fortune of the year. Even if things went poorly, they celebrated anyway and were grateful for each other, their health, their families and whatever did go well that year."
"I like that."
"So do I and so does everyone else. It's become an important holiday tradition in Colton and I like it as much as Christmas or Thanksgiving. Every year, it's a different rancher's turn to host it in their barn. This year it's my turn and I'm gonna have it in the hay barn because that one's the nicest and biggest. We set out lanterns, candles on the tables, pumpkins, cornstalks, marigolds, mums, games for the kids and all kinds of fall displays. We have music and tables of food, we'll even have a country band with dancing in the middle of the barn floor. We have kegs of beer and soda. But it does get kinda nippy so you've got to dress warmly."
"Sounds like something out of my Country Living magazine," Kate exclaimed.
"You and your magazines."
"I know it seems silly, but they were a luxury I couldn't afford as a kid, so a few of my friends would give me theirs and I'd look at them and daydream that maybe I could someday have some of those things when I grew up, like nice clothes, a pretty house, my own garden. I never wanted to look like the models in the pictures or for fame or millions, just the nice regular things that most women hope for."
"You already look like a model, so I wouldn't give that a second thought, not that it's important. Seems like you got those other things. See, dreams come true with hard work—that's what I tell Molly."
Kate put her arm around Marge for a moment, never taking for granted the special relationship she had with this person who'd become a mother figure to her.
"And why have you been looking so tired lately?" Marge asked, changing the subject.
"I've been working long hours, like everyone else."
"Nope, it's the kind of tired a person has when something's weighing on his mind. I've looked like that plenty of times; when the crops are failing, when the animals would die, or Molly'd get sick..."
"I still have some insecurities that bother me, they wake me up at night, that kind of thing."
"I see, maybe you should talk to someone about it. I'm not a big fan of therapists and that whole craze, but if it would help you, I'd support you all the way."
"Thanks, Marge, but I don't think that's what I need. Growing up, I had my share of therapists that I was forced to see because of my mom. Some of it was helpful but a lot of it was bullshit. My problems were my circumstances and they didn't know what the heck to do about that because it wasn't "bad enough" for me to be removed by Children and Youth, not to mention they were so overloaded, they only focused on the really bad cases involving sexual abuse. But I pretty much resolved all of that through the years, I have other questions."
"Like what?"
"Um, spirituality. Like, do you believe in God helping people, making miracles, really singling someone out to specifically help them?" Kate inquired.
"That's serious stuff, Kate, you could always go into Colton and talk to the minister, he's a terrific man and wise too."
"So are you, plus I respect and know you, I want your opinion."
"Well, I definitely believe in God. I don't think there's a limit to what He can do and I don't think anyone can predict or completely explain His actions or when He decides to intervene in a person's life. If you feel He did a specific miracle for you, then who's to say it didn't happen. You can't explain every single event that happens in your life, Kate, no one can. Some people call it coincidence, luck or miracles. I don't know the answer, only the person it happens to can define which one it is," theorized Marge.
"Something or someone changed my life in a major way, but I don't want to be thought of as crazy or extremist, so I keep it to myself. But I don't understand it, I just accept it."
"That's called faith. Believing and trusting in something when there isn't concrete scientific proof. What are you afraid of?"
"That things will go back to the way they used to be," Kate said quietly.
"But they can't, can they?"
"I don't know."
"I don't understand, Kate, are you afraid someone's gonna come out here and force you to go back home?"
"No, nothing like that. I like the way people treat me out here, I like who I am here and who I'm known to be—I don't want that to change."
"It won't, that's all because of your personality and character. No one can take that away from you," Marge smiled as she returned to cooking the eggs.
Kate just looked at her for a moment, desperately wishing she could reveal to her the complete truth, but she'd never be able to tell anyone...
"Aren't you ever going to come back to my house again?" Tray remarked as he kissed Kate at her front door that Saturday night.
"Yes, sorry, I'm just so thrilled with this place, I don't like to leave it," Kate replied as he walked in and took off his coat.
"I know we had dinner plans but I really don't feel like going out tonight, so I brought food with me from the diner by my office."
"That's fine with me, I'm tired too."
"I'll be right back," he smiled.
"Okay, I'll set the table."
He returned in a minute with a few large paper bags that smelled delicious.
"Yum, what is it?" she inquired.
"A couple of roast beef dinners and cherry pie for dessert."
"Smells great, I can't wait to dig in," she said enthusiastically.
"Oh wait, I forgot something," he turned to walk out again.
"Stay inside and warm up, I can get it while you set the food out..."
"No," he answered quickly, "it's cold out there, I don't want you getting sick."
"Okay, that's gallant of you" she replied, giving him an odd look.
He returned less than a minute later. Her back was turned to him as she placed the hot food upon the table.
"I thought you might like this," he said.
She turned to face him, expecting a bottle of wine or a bouquet flowers, but instead saw a caramel colored fat ball of fur and two huge brown eyes staring at her curiously.
"Oh my god, what is this?" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
"She's your new best friend, I know how much you love Missi and Huck and I want someone to take care of you out here when I'm not around so... I hope it's okay."
She took the puppy out of his arms and hugged her, burying her nose in its soft furry head, "it's the most wonderful gift anyone's ever given me," she replied, tears sliding down her cheeks.
"This wasn't supposed to make you cry," he smiled at her, sliding his hand down her hair.
"I can't help it, I love her, she's great."
"And I love you," he stated, embracing her as she held the dog. The puppy licked both of their faces.
"Where did you get her?" Kate asked.
"The Turner farm. She's a mutt, half lab and half golden retriever, maybe a little spaniel in there too. But she should be pretty and mutts usually have the best temperaments."
"She's beautiful."
"I also have a cage for her in my truck. Now, you can't let her sleep with you."
"No way, I wouldn't do that," Kate fibbed.
"Right."
"Come on, let's eat before the food gets cold," Kate said as she grabbed a pillow off a chair, placed it on the floor by her feet and placed the dog on it.
They ate their dinner, mostly talking about dogs and laughing at the adorable puppy that waddled over to stare up at them and their food. Kate asked him questions about how to housebreak a pup and how to feed it properly. He'd also brought a huge bag of puppy chow and a water bowl.
Kate made a fire in her little fireplace in the living room as Tray carried in the rest of the puppy stuff. He put the metal crate in her kitch
en and the dog food in the kitchen pantry.
"I think that's everything," he remarked as he sat down on the sofa and waited for her to join him.
"Can I interest you in some tea to go with your pie?" she offered.
"Yes, that would be perfect."
He could hear her laughing and talking to the pup while she was in the kitchen. He smiled to himself, he loved to make her happy. He knew it was ridiculous, but he wished he could surprise her everyday with something. Her reaction and the look on her face were priceless.
Kate reappeared with the dog trailing at her heels and set two pieces of pie and mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of them. The dog strained to get a nip of the pie, but she wasn't tall enough, her nose barely reached the edge of the table.
"She looks like she's yours already, the way she follows you around."
"What made you pick out this one?" Kate wondered.
"She seemed to have a sweet personality and she's reddish in color, like your hair."
"So you think she looks like me, huh?"
"Yeah, kind of."
"Thanks a lot," she pretended to be insulted.
The pup tried its best to jump up into her lap but couldn't make it, so she squirmed at Kate's feet and began to whimper.
"Oh, I can't stand to hear her do that."
"Don't give in, Kate, or she'll think she can get on your furniture, unless you want that."
"No, she'll grow to be too big to get on my furniture, not to mention the dirt and mud."
"That's right, just pet her while she sits at your feet," he advised.
"I have to think of a name, one that suits her. Maybe I'll wait a day or two until I get to know her better."
The dog continued to cry, even though Kate stroked it. Finally she picked it up and placed it in her lap.
"It doesn't count if she sits on my lap, she's not directly on the furniture," she rationalized to Tray as he made a face.
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