Nocturne

by Heather McKenzie

  “You know, you’re safe now, Kate,” Thomas said, so close to my ear I could feel his breath. It gave me a slight tingle. “Don’t worry about anything tonight. I got yer back. Just have fun; there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  His hand moved to my leg. With what I could only describe as a brotherly touch, he gave me a gentle pat. It didn`t feel wrong, or like he was coming on to me or anything like that, but within seconds, Ben was looming over us, unsteady and slurring.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded, blocking the heat of the fire.

  “Just trying to get Kate drunk is all,” Thomas replied in a tone meant to antagonize.

  Ben leaned in to Thomas, his breath foul with alcohol. “I thought I told you to stay away from her,” he hissed.

  I was expecting an argument or some posturing like there had been yesterday in the bunkhouse, but Thomas spoke gently. “Uh, how much have you had to drink, Ben?”

  Ben snarled an unintelligible response.

  “You’re not supposed to be doing that,” Thomas said.

  “Ah, mind your own business.” Ben was loud enough for everyone around us to become quietly interested.

  Thomas took in a long, deep breath. “Chillax. Settle down, Ben. I’m not making moves on Kate. Just trying to convince her to have some fun is all.”

  “Fun?” Ben’s jealous glare turned into a mischievous grin. He lunged for my hand, captured it in his, and then yanked me off the bench. Thomas didn’t stop him, and Marlene shot him a glare for not jumping to my defense.

  “Fun is exactly what the docta ordered. Let’s dance,” Ben said far too enthusiastically.

  Instant panic. “Oh no… no, no, no,” I muttered, wobbling on my feet. “I don’t dance.”

  “Ah, bullocks. Sure ya do.” Ben’s grip tightened.

  “I can’t,” I said in desperation. “Last time I danced, there was a huge fight and my bodyguard almost killed a guy—” Idiot! My alcohol-infused brain was letting things slip. Ben was unfazed by what I’d said, but Thomas’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “It’s just dancing,” Ben slurred, dragging me toward the patch of grass otherwise known as the ‘dance floor’. He was insistent, and he wasn’t letting go.

  A surge of anger shot through me. No. No way was I going to allow this man to treat me this way. I didn’t care if he fired me or dropped me off in the middle of a field of snakes; it was time to stand up for myself.

  I gathered up my courage and pulled my hand free of his grip, my arm screaming in agony.

  “Let me go. Now,” I hissed. “And don’t ever grab me like that again!”

  Ben’s arms dropped to his sides. I could have sworn the music quieted as well. A mixture of regret and sadness seemed to sober him up for a moment, forming deep lines between his brows. Mr. Carlson and Thomas exchanged a look of concern while they waited in the wings.

  “Oh hell, I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to be so forceful,” Ben said remorsefully. “It’s just that most girls like dancing is all.”

  I suddenly felt like an ass. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  The smile returned to Ben’s face. The shoulders of Mr. Carlson and Thomas sagged in relief. “All right then,” Ben slurred, the volume of the music increasing. “But this is a good song. Are ya sure?”

  I backed away, hands up in defense, and he started swinging his hips and throwing his arms out like he was roping a cow. The blonde twins joined in, swirling around him with giggles and whoops of laughter. Ben twirled them and moved maniacally to the music, then circled back to me. “Offer is still open,” he slurred, then he stumbled, fell onto his butt, and flopped backward on the grass with his arms and legs sprawled out like a snow angel.

  Then he passed out cold.

  I stared in shock for a moment, then kneeled and pressed my fingertips to the heartbeat at his neck. “Oh my God, Ben… Ben, are you okay?”

  I expected the music to cease completely and a rush of cowboys to come to his aid, but the only person who appeared and showed concern was Thomas.

  “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Thomas said, picking Ben’s hat up with care and hanging it on a fence post. “He does this all the time. In a few hours, he’ll get up and wander off to bed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The twins kept dancing, the music kept blaring, and no one was even remotely fazed by the passed-out cowboy.

  “Yeah. I’m sure,” Thomas said, with a comforting pat on my shoulder.

  Mr. and Mrs. Carlson began singing, and the neighbors started swinging each other around in some choreographed dance that made the ground shake. Ben lay there amid it all, unmoving, seeming dead to the world, and a cold chill ran through me as I backed up to the outskirts of the action.

  “So, bodyguard?” Thomas said, unfazed by the increasing two-step fury.

  “Please, don’t ask me about it,” I said anxiously, and was bumped into by a man in leather who smelled foul with huge sweat rivers running across his cheeks. He reminded me of the waiter on my birthday with his sweaty cheek against mine, his damp arm across my chest while he held a knife to my neck… I froze. Thomas said something, but I didn’t hear him. The memory had me in its grip. There had been people dancing that day, too, so much noise, then death, and blood…mine running out of my veins onto the pink carpet…

  I suddenly longed for Oliver. He’d saved my life that day. And if he were here he would have protected me so fiercely that not even an unwanted look would have come my way. I missed that safe feeling I had with him. The familiar comfort I could sweep my worries under…

  The pounding of my heart stole my breath when the big, sweaty guy spun toward me again.

  Thomas misunderstood the look of terror on my face. “Kate, honestly, this is a pattern with Ben. Pretty much the norm, and it isn’t gonna change. I promise he’s just sleeping off a binge. Now c’mon, let’s get out of here before someone else asks you to dance.”

  I was stuck. Stuck to the grass and stuck in the memory of that horrible birthday. Thomas tentatively reached for my hand, and I let him take it. As if in a dream, I followed him past the fire, away from the house, and over to a bare patch of grass under the biggest tree in the yard. Lanterns hung in the branches and mixed a golden glow with silvery moonlit shadows. I pulled cool air into my lungs, trying to calm myself.

  “All you all right?” Thomas asked, cracking a fresh can of beer and leaning against the tree.

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “You have a look of terror about you. Are you that worried about Ben? He’s just drunk is all.”

  “No. I’m just not used to crowds.”

  Thomas laughed. “Fifteen people dancing outside a ranch in the middle of nowhere is a crowd?”

  It was to me.

  Thomas took a long swig of the beer and then set it down at his feet. “Is that why when Milton Pickard bumped into you—who, by the way, is harmless—you squealed like he’d turned into a brain-eating zombie?”

  “Stop trying to figure me out,” I said angrily.

  Thomas nodded, then bent to retrieve his beer. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I’ll mind my own business.”

  I thought he might walk away, and I desperately didn’t want to be alone. “It’s just I have an anxiety disorder and sometimes panic attacks just come out of nowhere. They used to be only triggered by storms, but lately it seems just about anything can bring them on. Seeing Ben on the ground, and then the sweaty guy bumping into me… I…” A shiver completed my sentence.

  Thomas rubbed his chin. I stared at my feet.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For actually sharing something honest about yourself. It’s good to know. And now if I see your face turning white and your eyes as wide as a fox`s caught in a trap, I’ll know why.”

  “It won’t happen again,” I said hopefully.

  Thomas stood where he was, hands in his pockets and lantern light in his hair. That
cocky grin played on his face, but now it didn’t bother me. The music blaring from the house momentarily stopped, and the only sounds in the dark were restless animals and an axe chopping away at more logs for the fire.

  “Anything else you’d like to share?” he asked.

  It was innocent. Friendly. And it was the calm in his voice and kindness in his eyes that made my heart rate slow—I could breathe again.

  “No. I guess I better turn in,” I said.

  Thomas laughed. “It’s only ten, Kate, and we have this dance floor all to ourselves.”

  It was true; no one was paying any attention to the two people under the tree. “I can’t dance,” I squeaked.

  “You mean you are scared to dance, because of something that happened in the past. Heck, it’s just me and you, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing better to do. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Armed guards opening fire. Oliver appearing from nowhere and choking the life out of him. “You have no idea,” I said dismally.

  Thomas took a step closer, faced me for a moment, then moved to my side. “Put your left foot out… like this,” he said. “Now, step this way.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Please,” he begged.

  Against my better judgement, my feet started moving, the sound of autumn leaves crunching under them. I did as he instructed, putting my arms this way and that way, turning to the side, stepping forward and stepping back. Soon, the two of us were laughing madly as the tempo of the music picked up. I was clumsy while Thomas was graceful and practiced. I couldn’t help but smile when after the tenth attempt at a swirl, I got it right. When my feet started moving automatically in sync with his, I realized that somehow, I was having fun.

  When was the last time that happened?

  We kept dancing, caught in the music and the moment. Laughter came easily, and I welcomed the heat it put in my chest. It felt magical, giving in to the demand of the beat, the tingly feeling of the beer, and Thomas’s gentle, guiding hands. When a slow song started up, he carefully pulled me close until we were chest to chest.

  “Oh, I can’t…” I started to say.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Being next to him felt good, and it surprised me. “You’re a stranger. I know nothing about you. I don’t even know how old you are.”

  He sighed. “I’m twenty-one. Old enough to know better, and young enough to pretend I don’t.”

  I stayed where I was, body wanting to be held and brain yelling at my body to hit the road. Thomas took my stillness as an invitation. His hands let go of mine and found their way around me, and I couldn’t help but work my arms around him, too. His body was firm. Warm. He wasn’t as tall as Luke and smelled and felt much different, but that comforting feeling of heat and safety had me melting into him more than I should have. We swayed to the music. I began to imagine it was Luke I was slow dancing with under the moonlight, and it was his arms tightening around me….

  “Who are you thinking of right now, Kate?” Thomas asked.

  I was startled out of my daydream and pulled away to look up into a beautiful face, but not the face of the man I loved. It hurt to say his name. “Luke.”

  “You love this guy?”

  “Yes.”

  Thomas flinched slightly. “Is he the one who hurt you?”

  “He would never hurt me.”

  I expected more questions, but Thomas remained oddly quiet, studying my face with an intensity that gave me shivers. His arms moved back around me, and he pulled me close again. I could hear his heart in his chest, beating as fast as mine, and we were swaying even though the music had stopped. Something was happening between us. I felt it. He felt it. And what it was, I had no idea. Underneath the old tree with him, I felt a sense of calm blanket my gloom and despair. My body relaxed. My mind eased. Our heartbeats slowed, becoming perfectly in sync with each other.

  “This isn’t right,” I mumbled into his shirt. Happy to stay where I was, but realizing we’d been dancing for way too long.

  “You know what you need?” he said, breath hot on my cheek.

  I needed Luke. “I actually do know what I need, but I bet you have an interesting suggestion,” I said.

  Playfulness pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You need to see my butt in a Speedo. Then all of your heartache will be replaced with good old-fashioned lust. Up for a swim?”

  Lake Deifenbaker was a long, snake-like sheet of silver with tall prairie grasses flanking the shoreline and a wide patch of sand for a beach. The light of the moon was uninterrupted as it settled around us, making the earth shimmer. It was far different from mountain lakes back home. A fingertip in it assured me it was much warmer, too.

  “There’s no weeds, not one. In case you were worried about that,” Thomas said. The air was cold enough we had put jackets on over our sweaters, and he remained fully dressed. “No sharks, piranhas, or bloodsuckers. Just pike, but they don’t bite. Hey, can you even swim?”

  “Of course,” I said, undoing my jacket.

  “Whoa, not yet.” Thomas turned and pointed to a tiny shack a few feet from the water’s edge. “First, we heat up the ‘poor man’s sauna’ and light a fire on the beach. We gotta get hot and sweaty first, then have a way to warm up after. Otherwise, we’ll turn to popsicles.”

  “Pansy,” I teased, although grateful for the idea of heat; I was cold already.

  He shook his head. “You were just gonna dive right in there, weren’t ya?”

  That was exactly what I was going to do, just to prove… something. “Of course.”

  “Huh. The entire walk here, I kept expecting you to fake a stomachache or come up with some excuse to turn back. You constantly surprise me.”

  A smile crossed my face. “I can out-swim you, outrun you, and outsmart you, Thomas,” I said, mimicking his cockiness.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  He grinned. His teeth were perfectly straight. Although he’d shaved in the morning, there was the shadow of stubble on his chin. Why was I noticing this?

  I followed him to a circle of rock containing the remains of a dead fire. As he poked at the ashes, an owl hooted from not too far away. I scanned the thick band of trees for its glowing eyes, but saw only darkness.

  Thomas gathered kindling from a wood pile stacked against the shack. In three small trips, the fire pit was stacked full.

  “Ben and Mr. Carlson built the shack for Marlene,” he said, motioning to the creepy, windowless structure that would probably topple over in a breeze. “Apparently, she wanted to be an Olympic figure skater and was really good at it. He cleared the lake every winter and kept the fire going in the shack so she could warm up. Marlene was out here every chance she got, then, one day, something happened that made her quit. Hank remembers her marching into the house one afternoon, throwing her skates in the garbage can, and never going back to the lake. She refused to give an explanation why. Anyway, now the shack functions as a good old-fashioned sauna.”

  Thomas was flicking a lighter to the edge of the dry firewood. The flame would catch for a moment, then fizzle out.

  “I like Marlene. You could tell her all your secrets and know they would be safe with her,” I said.

  Thomas nodded. “Yep. She’s the weirdest person I know, but as loyal and dependable as the sun rising.” He was flicking the lighter again, bent over with knees in the sand, now blowing on the wood.

  The damp air was messing with his horrible technique.

  “Want me to show you how it’s done, cowboy?” I said, feeling the effects of the beer loosen me up.

  Thomas sat back on his heels. “You just go right ahead, Princess Kate. You can’t even flip a pancake or turn on a stove, so this should be interesting.”

  I removed the wood he’d dumped into the fire pit and set it to the side, then I gathered up some dry grass and rolled it into tightly packed balls to make a tinder nest. Small twigs and dry reeds were plentiful, so I collected some and placed broken bits of
it around the grass. While Thomas watched, amused, I built a small teepee structure with the wood he’d collected over top.

  “You figure grass balls are gonna get the party started?” he said with a laugh.

  “Nope, but pussy willow fluff will.”

  I marched over to the foliage next to the shed, grateful for the flashlight Thomas had given me to light the way, and nearly jumped out of my skin when the owl hooted again. Sprigs of pussy willows, almost as tall as me, were in full bloom. Mounds of what looked like exploding cotton balls came easily away from the stems. Soon, I had handfuls of the stuff. I returned with nature’s best fire starter and packed the cotton next to the grasses. With one touch of the flame, the fire burst to life.

  “Unbelievable,” Thomas muttered. “How did you know how to do that?”

  The light and heat from the fire was always comforting. “Survival training. Apparently, I was actually paying attention once in a while.”

  “What on earth would you need survival training for?”

  “My extremely overprotective father had some very strange… uh, views on my education. Some courses were ridiculous, but that one sure did come in handy a few weeks ago.”

  “Oh yeah?” Thomas’s eyes shone in the flames. “Did you have to live in a cave and fight off cougars and bears in those mountains you call back home?”

  He was joking, but I shuddered at his ridiculously accurate guess. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  When he realized I was serious, he changed his tone. “You’re not gonna tell me about it, though, are ya?”

  I shook my head.

  “All right. I’ll go get the shack heating up. In the meantime, you crack this bottle open for us. We’ll need warmth on our outsides and our insides after we swim.”

  He tossed me a plastic bottle of vodka. Just looking at it made me feel a bit queasy, but I nodded and twisted off the cap as he disappeared into the shed. Maybe a sip would do me good. The moment my mind was unoccupied, my thoughts drifted to Luke. Maybe I could dilute those thoughts with booze.

  I heard strange rustling noises from behind me. The owl? I waited for that eerie hooting sound, but the trees had grown quiet. I shone the flashlight, aiming the beam at the tree trunks, the tall grasses, and then the small path we’d come out of, hoping for a brief second I might see Luke. But there was nothing. There was no sound. And no one.