“I know it sounds a little silly, but I do miss them.”
“Why is that silly? I miss my family and I’ve only been here for a short time. What about friends?”
That was a more difficult question. Most of Kate’s friends from college kept in touch via email, but she almost never saw them, and she didn’t really have close friends, except for Luce, whom she saw sporadically. Kate’s career didn’t allow for very close friendships.
“I guess I don’t need many people. I’m pretty content with the people and the life I have here. I don’t really miss the friends I have.” Or at least I thought I was content, but when I’m not with you, I find myself missing you. She sighed. Stop it.
“Hm.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I was just curious.”
He stopped asking questions, and Kate wondered if he thought she was weird. She knew that not having a lot of friends might appear odd to some people, but with her lifestyle, it was just what it was. Sage finished drawing in silence. As the sun began to sink from the sky, he looked at what he’d drawn with serious eyes.
“Can I see it now?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Can I touch it?”
He sat up beside her and rested his arms on his knees, staring solemnly at the water. “Sure.”
Kate ran her fingers over the fine details of a perfect replica of a globe, atop of which she and Sage were sitting side by side, hand in hand, their legs dangling off the edge of Central America. In the center of the Gulf of Mexico, deep in the water, which looked so real Kate wanted to dive in, it read, Sage + Kate.
“I love this.” I could love you. She touched his arm, expecting him to lean over and kiss her. When he didn’t move—not even so much as a smile—she realized something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Only she had no idea what it was. “Sage?”
“Yeah?” Again, he didn’t even look at her.
“What’s wrong?”
Sage pushed to his feet. “Nothing.” He reached for her hand and helped her up. “We should probably go back before the sun goes down.”
This was just what Kate needed. A moody artist on one of the most difficult nights of her life.
Chapter Fifteen
THE MORE SAGE got to know Kate, the more of a connection he felt toward her. He’d always felt like a bit of a fraud living in the heart of New York in an enormous townhouse that cost far too much money. He would be much more comfortable in a small cabin in the woods, using a rustic barn as a studio. He’d thought about making changes in his life often over the last year or two, and the thought excited him, but then the excitement was quickly chased away by his father’s voice pushing him to be more. Do more. Make more money. Be the best he could be. The days he’d spent with Kate had reignited his love of the outdoors and a more comfortable, relaxed lifestyle. The work he was doing there felt like the missing piece he’d been searching for. Now he wondered if he was really being the best he could be by not doing more.
He reached for Kate’s hand on the way back to the cabins, chewing on what she’d said about not needing many people in her life. He felt closer to Kate than he did to anyone else, but he’d begun to worry that perhaps he was feeling something she wasn’t. And he might just be setting himself up to be hurt. Will you miss me when I leave? The thought of leaving—and the lingering question of how Kate might answer the unasked question—made the pit of his stomach ache.
“You didn’t mention your meeting with the people in the village. How did it go?” he asked.
“Great. But if we pull out of here, who will advocate for them? We’ve been trying to get this through for the last year and a half, and we’re so close.” She sighed. “I just hope that Friday’s meeting will make a difference.”
“Friday?”
“Yeah. There’s so much to all of this, and I’m not an engineer or anything, so my voice is just one among many, but I think it’s important that I help. On Friday the Ministry of Rural Development is sending an engineer out to review the area and meet with the residents. I can at least speak my mind and hope it makes a difference.”
“It’s government. They’re all about dollars and cents.” Which is why a nonprofit focusing on wells makes so much sense.
Kate sighed again and shook her head, like he totally didn’t understand. Which was accurate, because he didn’t understand how a volunteer could make that big of a difference where politics were involved. Greasing a palm maybe, but good intentions rarely got things moving in government.
“Is there some way I can help? I know you don’t like me to throw money at problems, but this is a prime example of how if you’d agree to let me create a few pieces and sell them for charitable proceeds, the money could benefit the community.”
“I just…” She blew out a breath as they came to the cabins. “Yes, this is about funding. But the government has the money. They’re just diverting it to larger communities, like the small ones don’t matter. Like if there are fewer people, they don’t need the same resources.”
Listening to the passion in her voice, and knowing how hard she worked for the community in all regards, not just for the well, made Sage feel even more for her. He brushed her damp hair from her shoulders. “I’m proud of you, for all you do and how much you care. You’re amazing, and you should be proud of yourself, too.” He felt protective toward Kate, and that feeling had only grown since their first kiss.
She blinked several times, as if she couldn’t believe what he’d said. “Thank you.”
He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. He knew it was dangerous to allow his heart to embrace her, given the distance between where he lived and where she might be in a few months, but he was unable to stop himself from being drawn into everything about her. “I want to help, and if you won’t let me help monetarily, then please let me help in some other way.”
“I guess you could come to the meeting. That would help. The more supporters the better.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“Really? It’s Friday at three in the village.”
“Absolutely.”
“What about the mural? The kids?” Her eyes held a mixture of hope and worry, and Sage wanted to satisfy both.
“I’ll talk to the teachers and see if they can accommodate the painting before the lessons. Then I’ll meet you there.”
“I don’t want you to mess up your schedule, but this is really important to me. It would mean the world to me if you went.”
“And you’re important to me. I’ll be there.”
Her lips curved into a smile, and when it reached her eyes, the worry seemed to disappear. “Thank you.”
Every nerve in Sage’s body ached to discuss where they were headed—and if there was any chance of seeing each other after he left. But he worried that Kate would slide him back into the pushy artist or celebrity category. He would wait it out. Kate hadn’t indicated any interest in seeing each other beyond their time together in Belize. In fact, she might have been telling him otherwise just a few minutes earlier. I guess I don’t need many people. I’m pretty content with the people and the life I have here.
Sage would take all the time he could get.
LATER THAT EVENING, Kate and Luce stopped by Sage’s cabin on their way into town. They found him sketching in the screened-in sleeping area, wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, sweat dripping from his skin. Kate stood on the outside of the screen looking in, thinking about how his wet body had felt against hers earlier in the afternoon.
“You do have a shower, you know,” Luce teased.
Sage didn’t lift his eyes from the sketchpad. “Yeah. I’ll get to it.”
“What are you drawing?” Kate stood on her tiptoes, trying to see what he’d drawn. Her hand dropped to her stomach where he’d drawn them sitting on top of the world. When she’d showered earlier she’d been careful not to scrub the image away.
“I want to remember everything here so I can capture it wh
en I return home. In the jungle, right by the end of the path near the beach, I saw the most beautiful red flowers. That’s what I’m drawing.” His eyes remained intent on the drawing.
Kate felt a spear of guilt. She hadn’t been close enough to any artists to understand what they must feel when they’re inspired. Now, watching Sage so engrossed in capturing what he’d seen, she wondered if she’d made a mistake and stifled that inspiration by not allowing his canvases to be shipped in for paintings he’d send back to the States.
“We’re heading into town for dinner. Want to come?” Kate asked, but she could tell by the fact that his eyes did not once waver from his drawing that he was in some sort of artist’s zone again.
“No thanks. You guys have fun. I’m gonna finish this and then work out.”
Kate waited for him to add, Can I see you later? or I’ll catch up with you afterward, or Let me kiss you goodbye, and when he didn’t, it pierced like a needle to her heart.
Luce tucked her arm into Kate’s. “Ready, girlie? Fajitas are calling me.”
“Um, yeah.” She glanced at Sage again. “Okay, well...”
His eyes darted to her and her hopes soared—for a brief second they connected—and then he dropped them to the drawing again. “Have fun.” With his eyes locked on the drawing, he added, “I’ll come by later.”
Once out of earshot, Luce said, “You have quite the moody artist there, don’t you?”
“Who knew?” She tried to make light of Sage being completely absorbed by the drawing instead of her, but she heard the hurt in her own voice and knew Luce would too.
“Hey, you okay? He’s just doing his own thing.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just…You picked up on that, right? I mean…he wasn’t even a little excited to see me.” God, I sound like a needy brat.
“Look at you! All jealous over a drawing. Is this the same Kate who hasn’t needed a man in forever? The Kate who runs an entire program in a developing nation far away from everyone she knows, without any help? Suddenly you’re lost without Sage? What’s up with that?” Luce started with a teasing voice, but her tone grew serious.
Kate stewed on the way into town. She didn’t even know what this thing with Sage was. A fling? A relationship? How could she know? They hadn’t defined it. She’d just gone along with her feelings—for once—and it felt good. But it also felt confusing as hell.
“Luce, I shouldn’t feel hurt that he wanted to draw instead of being with me, right? I mean, if I had to make a choice between seeing him and attending a meeting for the well, I’d still go to the meeting. It’s the same thing, right?”
“He’s just doing what artists do, Kate.”
Kate sighed. “Well, then, it’s probably a good thing I find out now rather than later. It’s also probably a good thing that I didn’t give in and let him make paintings to sell back in New York, or I’d never see him.”
“You know I love you, right?” Luce said as they walked into the cozy café. The interior walls were painted bright yellow, and there were several small tables. Three older men sat at a table near the back, three bottles of beer on the table and two empty plates. Their leathery skin was heavily wrinkled from the sun, and bags of fatigue hung heavily beneath their eyes. Luce chose a table off to the side.
“But?”
“This whole thing is kind of ridiculous. He should be painting and selling what he makes in New York to fund the community here. Who cares what it does for his career? I’m not saying he’d do it for his career, because he’s definitely not like that.”
They ordered drinks and dinner from a middle-aged woman in a dark skirt and blouse whom Kate recognized from the village, but she could not recall her name. She wore her long hair loose, and when she smiled, her yellow teeth contrasted sharply against her dark skin.
“So you think I’m being ridiculous? After all the crap you’ve seen that goes on here with celebrities showing up just to increase their own exposure?” She took a long drink. A margarita had never tasted so good.
“I just think that you should take whatever you can get.” Luce lifted her drink. “I mean, funding-wise and Sage-wise.” She winked.
On one level, Kate knew Luce was right, but on another level, allowing things that only furthered celebs public relations went against everything Kate stood for. She looked at her friend, her straight blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, no makeup on her face, her tank top hanging off her shoulder, and her eyes locked on Kate. Luce looked nothing like a New York public relations specialist, but at the moment, Kate hated that she sounded exactly like one. She’d been brought up to do the right thing by others, and when it came to the people of Punta Palacia, she felt a protectiveness that she took seriously. And then there’s how I feel about Sage.
“You know I hate that we don’t have real volunteers out here, so how can you say all that?” She finished her margarita and ordered a second.
“I don’t know, Kate. You’re here.” She shrugged. “Why not make the most of whatever can help the people here? Even if some of it is a little…greasy. Does everything have to be squeaky clean?”
“In my world it kinda does. I feel like if I give in, I’m condoning that behavior.”
Luce narrowed her eyes and locked on Kate’s with a serious stare. “Listen, hon, whether you want to admit it or not, just being here and running a program that serves celebs condones that behavior.”
“Really? Oh God. That’s a horrible thought.” Am I condoning their behavior? Kate sighed. It was all overwhelming. “Do you think I’m hurting his career, too, or just not allowing him to make the most of it?” She covered her face with her hands. “Listen to me. Just not allowing him to make the most of it? Oh my God. Who am I to allow him to do anything? What has happened to me? Somehow I’ve become so attached to what I’m doing here that…that…”
“That you’ve forgotten how the real world works?” Luce asked.
“No. I’m just realizing that maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t be here in the first place. I’m compromising my own beliefs by catering to celebrities.” It hit her like a kick to the gut.
I allow the system to work the way it does. I assist it. I make it happen. What the hell am I doing?
Chapter Sixteen
SAGE GOT UP at the crack of dawn and went to Kate’s cabin. After she and Luce had gone into town last night, he’d tracked down Clayton and Cassidy and told them in no uncertain terms exactly how the rest of their trip was going to go down. No more talking shit about Kate. No more shirking your responsibilities. You need to pitch in now that Penelope is gone. The people here deserve that much. Kate and Caleb deserve that much. And by the grace of God, they had acted almost human and agreed. Sage had gone back to his drawing feeling more at ease, and he’d gotten so engrossed that by the time he’d set it down, it was well past two o’clock in the morning. He’d gone to Kate’s cabin, but she was already asleep, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. Even if he’d like nothing more than to sleep with her in his arms.
As he ascended the steps to Kate’s, he inhaled deeply. This walk toward an apology was nothing new to Sage. He’d gotten lost in his art enough times to know exactly what type of an asshole he was. He’d been told off by dozens of women for missing dates or showing up late. Hell, even his own mother had given him grief for missing family dinners, and she understood what it was like to be in the zone. He hated knowing Kate was now added to the list of women who’d felt scorned because of his art.
He saw Kate through the screen door, sitting on the edge of her bed in a pair of shorts and a black tank top and scribbling in a notebook.
“Hey,” he said softly. “How mad are you?”
She turned to face him, and the look in her puffy eyes drew him into the room. She set the notebook on the mattress. He knelt beside her, strangled by guilt. “Kate, I’m really sorry. I get caught up in my work. I can’t help it. It just happens.” He used to make up excuses, but Sage knew that excuses were worthless, an
d Kate, looking hurt and exhausted, deserved the truth. This is who I am. He was the guy who got lost in his art. He always had been, and she needed to understand that.
“I’m not mad.” She touched his cheek and her gaze softened.
“You’re not? Why not?”
She shrugged. “I just have a lot going on, that’s all.” She pushed to her feet. “You aren’t tied to me. You were doing your own thing. That’s fine, Sage. Really.”
“No. It’s not fine, and I’m really sorry.” He leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him quickly, pulling away well before he was ready.
“Kate?” Her eyes were burdened, shadowed, and he knew it was his fault. “I get caught up in my work, and I know it’s wrong and it’s hurtful.”
“Sage, it’s okay. I get caught up in my work, too. Or at least I used to.” She let out a breath and headed for the door. “Your supplies come in this morning.”
“Kate, wait. Can we talk?” Don’t all women like to talk things through?
“Let’s talk on the way. I want to get coffee and be there when the truck pulls up.”
He bristled against the iciness in her voice and the distance between them as she hurried ahead of him. “Kate?”
She turned toward him and flashed a tense smile.
Shit. He reached for her hand. “I’m really sorry, but don’t just brush me off. Please.”
“I’m not brushing you off. I just have a lot on my mind.”
That’s when he saw it, a fissure in her steely resolve that bubbled up and dampened her eyes. He closed the gap between them and drew her to his chest, feeling his own heart shatter when her arms remained hanging limply by her sides.
“Kate, I never meant to hurt you.”
She shook her head against his chest and finally lifted her hands to his waist. “I know.”
“You got to see the other side of me. The nonartist side, but when I’m in artist mode, it’s like my mind has tunnel vision. Everything else falls away, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. It’s not like that at all.”
Stroke of Love Page 13
