“I couldn’t stay away.” He hung his dark head. He looked so lost. So alone.
Her yearning heart went out to him. But when she took a step toward him, he put up both hands, palms out, to keep her at bay. “No,” he said, and, “No,” again.
She stepped back, to show him she wouldn’t come closer.
Oh, what was happening here? “It doesn’t make sense. You say you couldn’t stay away, that you missed me so much.” It was like a sharp knife, turning in her belly, in her heart, in the very center of her, to admit it. But it had to be said. “I just don’t see it. The way you’re acting now, well, what am I supposed to think but that I’ve had it all wrong, about you and me?”
“No,” he said flatly, his mouth twisting. “No. You weren’t wrong. Not about that. Never about that.”
“Then what?”
“Listen.” He said that word again and he reached for her—again. Every atom in her body cried out to move toward him. But she made herself stay right where she was.
And, as before, his hands dropped to his sides. “I came here to tell you something.” His voice was infinitely weary. “To tell you, and leave. I thought I’d do it over dinner, in a restaurant, where I wouldn’t be tempted to…” The words trailed off. They both knew what he meant.
Tempted to kiss her.
Tempted to hold her.
Tempted to make sweet, passionate love with her.
They stared at each other across a short distance that felt like a million miles.
Finally, she made herself speak. “Do you still plan to say it, whatever it is?”
There was a slight hesitation, but then he nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
She felt weary, too, now. Weary and sick at heart. Still, she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Then I guess you’d better say it, don’t you think?”
He drew in a long breath and let it out hard. And, at last, he came out with it. “You’re going to hate me, soon enough. But when you do, remember. None of it was about you. You shouldn’t have been involved. It was one rotten step too far, what I did with you. A gross error in judgment on my part. You are exactly the woman a man like me never finds.”
“But then I don’t see why—”
“It’s simple. I’m not who you think I am.”
Her legs felt achy and rubbery. And her heart was a big lump of lead in her chest. She felt for the chair behind her. Slowly, with great care, she lowered herself into it. “I don’t understand you. What wasn’t about me? And if you’re not who I think you are, well, who are you, then?”
There was a long, ugly silence. Finally, he muttered, “I can’t say any more. Goodbye, Katie.”
And that was it.
That was all.
Without another word, he turned and went out through the door to the foyer. She didn’t follow him. She knew, in an awful, final kind of way that there was no point. A moment or two later, she heard the front door open—and close.
Chapter Twelve
He had said she would hate him.
But she didn’t.
She felt numb, as if she were floating, as if none of this was real.
The meal still waited, his plate untouched, hers almost the same, right there beside her on the table. She probably ought to go ahead and eat.
Through the numbness, she felt a touch of nausea.
No. No food. Not now.
She rose, very slowly, her legs wobbly and uncertain. Once she was on her feet, she leaned on the table for a moment or two, getting her bearings.
When she felt more certain her legs would hold her up, she calmly cleared the table and put the food away. She rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, washed the frying pan and hung it back on the overhead rack.
Once everything was cleaned up, all evidence of the meal they should have shared out of sight, once the sink was empty and the counters wiped down, she went through the door to the foyer, the same way he had gone. There, she locked the front door.
That taken care of, she turned for the stairs. As she climbed, she felt like someone very old and stiff, doggedly dragging herself up to bed. She held on to the polished railing, taking one careful step at a time.
What had happened, the things he’d said to her—none of it made any sense.
She only knew that it was over between them. Over before it had even really gotten started.
Beneath the ugly numbness, she knew she was going to have to get over him, get over a man who’d managed to fill up her world, to change everything, in the space of six days.
She hoped the numbness lasted awhile, bleakly aware that when it faded, she would have to deal with the pain of losing him, have to somehow learn to mend her shattered heart.
At eleven-thirty the next morning, Addy showed up at her door. “I came into town to pick up a few things and I thought we might go out and grab a bite of…” She peered at Katie closer. “Darling, what’s happened? What’s the matter with you?”
Squinting against the bright morning sun, Katie put her hand up to her tangled hair. “I…” She looked down at the pajamas she was still wearing. “I…well, I slept a little late.”
Addy wasn’t buying. She stepped over the threshold and closed the door firmly behind her. Quickly, she slipped out of her coat and hung it on the rack, then turned to face Katie again. “Something bad has happened. I can see it in your eyes.” She grabbed Katie’s hand and towed her into the living room, where she sat on the sofa and pulled Katie down beside her. “Now…” She seemed unsure of how to continue. “Oh, my dear. Please. Tell me what’s happened.”
Katie hadn’t the faintest idea how to answer. She looked at the woman who’d been the mother she’d needed so much, the woman who’d come for her when she had no one else, the woman who’d been there, ever since, whenever Katie needed a listening ear or loving arms to hold her.
Katie realized she needed that now—Addy’s loving arms around her. “Oh, Addy…”
Addy reached for her with a worried cry. “Now, now. Oh, honey.”
Katie sagged into Addy’s embrace, breathing in the faint scent of Addy’s subtle perfume, feeling at least a little less numb.
Which maybe, on second thought, wasn’t such a great thing. Something loosened in her chest. Without the numbness to keep them down, she felt the sudden tears rising. “Oh, Addy…”
“It’s okay. It will be okay.”
It wouldn’t, and Katie knew it. Not for a long time. And that seemed so awful, so infinitely sad, that the tears rose high enough to burn her throat, to fill her eyes with scalding wetness. “Oh, I don’t think so…oh, Addy, it won’t. Not for a long time.”
Her shoulders started shaking as the sobs took over, deep, wrenching ones. The tears dribbled down her cheeks and kept on coming, a river of them. Addy held her, not caring the least that Katie was soaking the front of her angora sweater. She whispered comforting words as Katie sobbed for the love—for the future with Justin—that was never going to be.
Finally, Katie spoke against Addy’s warm, willing shoulder, the words fractured, broken—just like her heart. “It was…oh, Addy, I don’t know how it happened, that I ended up caring so much. It shouldn’t hurt like this, should it? It was only a few short days.”
Addy stroked her hair. “Now, now…”
With another shuddering sob, Katie pulled free so she could meet Addy’s eyes. “I—I think I love him,” she said in terrified wonder. In complete disbelief. “But that can’t be, can it? Not after so short a time, not after what happened last night—”
Addy asked the pertinent question. “Who, darling? Who do you love?”
Katie bit her lip. Suddenly she remembered: Caleb’s ski resort project. It was so important to him. And this…what had happened, well, this was strictly personal. Between her and Justin. It had nothing to do with Caleb’s business. But somehow, at that moment, she feared…
If Caleb found out how deeply Justin had wounded her, how she’d sobbed out her hurt and bewildermen
t in Addy’s arms, he might confront Justin. He might even decide he couldn’t allow Justin to be involved in his project.
She hadn’t any idea what would happen then—maybe nothing. Or maybe Justin would back out and everything would have to be put on hold.
She didn’t want that.
This wasn’t about that.
“Addy, you have to promise me that you won’t say a word to Caleb. I don’t want him upset over this.”
“Honey. Say a word about what?”
“You just have to promise me.”
Addy’s mouth pinched up tight. “It’s that Justin Caldwell, isn’t it?” When Katie only stared at her, she asked, outraged, “Well, who else could it be?”
Katie looked away.
Addy didn’t allow that. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, Katie did. Addy said, “It is Caldwell, isn’t it?”
Katie only shut her eyes and wilted into Addy’s arms again.
Addy held on tight. “There, there. Whatever he’s done, I can see you’re better off without him. You know that, don’t you?”
The really awful, hopeless thing was that she didn’t know it. She still didn’t know it—oh, maybe in her head, she did. But not in her shattered heart, where it mattered. Even after he’d made it perfectly clear that she’d better learn to live without him, that he wouldn’t be back, her hungry heart refused to believe it.
Somehow, though, she made herself nod against Addy’s shoulder. “Yes. I’m better off. I really am.” She pulled free of Addy’s hold again and took the tissue Addy handed her. She dried her tears and blew her nose and drew herself up straight. “He broke it off last night.”
“You grew close in the museum?”
“Oh, Addy. It was a beautiful time. I felt as if I knew him so well. It’s so hard to explain. I felt this powerful connection to him. I was so sure I’d found the right guy.”
“And then, out of nowhere last night, he told you he wouldn’t be seeing you anymore?”
“That’s right.”
“But why?”
It was the million-dollar question and Katie still had no answer to it. “He didn’t explain.”
Addy grunted in pure disgust. “Some other woman, no doubt.”
“No. I really don’t think so.”
“Then what?”
“He just said it was over.”
“But it makes no sense.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking—all I’ve been thinking. I’ve been trying to accept the fact that I’ll probably never know why he broke it off. I don’t feel very accepting, though. I really don’t.” She forced a wobbly smile. “But, Addy. You’re right. I’ll be okay. Eventually. I know I will.”
Addy gave her a game grin. “That’s the spirit.” Her grin became an angry frown. “And as for that Caldwell fellow—”
Katie interrupted. “No. Listen. What happened was strictly personal, between him and me. I shouldn’t even have told you.”
“Of course you should have,” Addy huffed. “What affects you affects the people who love you. Never forget that.” Addy sighed and took Katie’s hand again, enclosing it between the two of hers. “Sometimes, when you’re suffering terribly, it’s hard to keep from cutting yourself off from the people who matter. Promise me you won’t do that now.”
There was something in Addy’s voice, in her eyes. Something sad. And heavy with regret. Katie had to ask. “Have you done that? Cut yourself off from the ones who love you? Is that what you’re saying?”
Addy patted her hand. “Am I so obvious?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. But I know you and love you. How you feel doesn’t have to be obvious, for me to pick up on it—and it did seem to me as if you were talking about yourself just now.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Addy admitted, “Well, yes. Maybe I was. I…well, I had a tough time when Riley was born. I almost didn’t make it. And then they told me there would be no more children. I came from a big family and I always wanted, oh, ten or twelve or so of my own. I was cut to the heart by the news. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t…love my husband. Or my new baby. The doctors said it was a serious case of postpartum depression.”
“But…?”
“I don’t know. I think maybe it was the death of my most cherished dream. To have a big family, to someday be surrounded by an adorable crowd of happy grandchildren. It hurt so much to lose that dream, I lost sight of all the wonderful things I did have. It was a terrible time. I almost drove Caleb away.”
“Impossible. He loves you so much.”
“I know. But he’s a man who needs a lot of attention. You know him, full of life and energy. Always on to the next big plan. He needs a wife to help him live his dreams, a woman who’s there, right beside him, while he makes those dreams come true. After Riley was born, I was like a shadow of myself, for much too long. And a man like Caleb can’t live with a shadow for a wife. And certainly it wasn’t any good for Riley, either. He was an innocent baby, then, a baby who needed his mother’s love.”
“But you worked through it.”
“Yes. Barely. I should have reached out. But instead, I disengaged from the two people who needed me the most.” Addy smoothed a wild strand of Katie’s uncombed hair, guiding it back behind her ear. “Don’t make the same mistake yourself. Please.”
“I won’t,” Katie promised. “But I do need a little time, you know? Addy, I really cared for him. It was sudden, yes. But somehow, being sudden and short-lived doesn’t make it any less powerful.”
“I understand. I truly do. Just don’t hold it all in. Just remember that we’re here, Caleb and Riley and I, any time you need us.”
Addy stayed for lunch. As the two of them fixed sandwiches and heated up some soup, Addy asked more questions. She pressed for specifics about Justin, about what had gone wrong.
But Katie only shook her head. “It’s over, that’s all. All the little details don’t matter.” Except to me.
She couldn’t get Addy to promise not to say anything about Justin to Caleb. “Business is business,” Addy said. “But Caleb certainly has a right to know the kind of man he’s dealing with.”
Katie tried to argue that Addy didn’t really know what kind of man Justin was. “You’ve just been complaining that I haven’t told you anything. Remember that. I haven’t. I didn’t say anything against Justin, and I won’t. All you know is there was…something. And now it’s over.”
“I know that he hurt you, and that’s enough for me. Unless you’re ready to tell me a little more about what happened?”
It was too much. “Let’s just let it go for now. Please.”
Addy looked slightly put out, but she did drop the subject. They ate lunch and Addy hung around for an extra cup of hot tea and then said she had to get back to the ranch. “Come for dinner tonight. Let us cheer you up.”
“I can’t. Not tonight. I need a few days. A little time to myself, to…lick my wounds, I guess. Maybe that’s self-indulgent, but—”
“Oh, of course it’s not,” Addy cut in tartly. “You get through this however you need to. Just remember what I said before. Don’t shut us out for too long.”
“I won’t. I promise you.”
After Addy left, Katie wandered back upstairs to her bedroom. She climbed into bed and closed her eyes. Sleep wouldn’t come, so she simply lay there, wishing the numbness would return, feeling broken and much, much too sad.
Eventually, she dragged herself from bed, took a shower and forced herself to go out for a walk through Old Town. The snow lay in patches on the wet ground by then. It was hard to believe that it had been a deep, unbroken blanket of white just four days before. She waved at friends and neighbors she saw on the street and even stopped to chat with Emelda, who emerged from Super Savers Mart, the grocery store that had once been known as the Thunder Canyon Mercantile and had been owned and run by the Douglas family for generations.
“Will you look at this weather?” Emelda shifted her bag of groceries to one arm and stuck
out the other in a gesture intended to include the wide, sunny sky and the melting patches of snow just beyond the covered sidewalk. “Amazing, isn’t it? Snow past my eyeballs one day, dirty patches on the bare ground in no time at all—are you all right, dear? You do look a tad under the weather, and I know you didn’t feel all that well last week.” She leaned closer to Katie and kept on talking, saving Katie the discomfort of having to answer the question about how she was feeling. “One thing I did like about that nice, deep snow pack. Kept trespassers away from that erosion hole behind my back fence.”
The hole in question was a caved-in section of tunnel from Caleb’s played out mine, the Queen of Hearts. Riley had seen to boarding it over, but someone kept pushing the boards aside. Probably adventurous kids, Katie thought, kids wanting to holler down the hole and pitch rocks into the dark puddles of stagnant water at the bottom. Emelda worried constantly that someone was going to fall in. She’d called the Thunder Canyon police department more than once to report that she’d spotted trespassers around the hole.
“Those boards were moved again this morning,” Emelda reported with a fretful cluck of her tongue. “I hope you’ll speak to Riley about it. I worry, I do.”
What else could she say? “I’ll call Riley today.”
“Thank you, dear. It’s just that it’s so dangerous.”
Katie made a few more reassuring noises and then, at last, Emelda toddled off, headed up Pine, toward her tidy little house at the west end of State Street.
Katie walked on, trying to remember to smile and wave when folks said hi, though her mind kept tracking back to last night, to the way Justin had kissed her, so hungrily, as if he would never let her go, the way he had unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts, putting his hot mouth to them, the way his hands had stroked her, the way he’d gathered up her skirt, as if he had to touch her all over or die.
And then, not twenty minutes later, for no reason she could see, he was saying goodbye forever and walking out the door.
None of it was about you. You shouldn’t have been involved. What did that mean?
Stranded with the Groom Page 14
