Balancing Act

by Patricia Davids

  “Yup,” Lindy answered.

  “She’s a smart lady.”

  Cheryl basked in the glow of his praise for only a moment. Then the reality of what had happened sank in. She should have been watching the girls more closely. She should have made them get down the second she saw what they were doing. This was her fault.

  Why hadn’t her mother been saved the way Kayla just was? Was one life less valuable than the other? She had no answers for the questions that spun through her mind. She rode the rest of the way in silence.

  In the E.R., Sam stayed with Kayla while Cheryl was taken to have her foot looked at. Her cast was a water-logged mass of plaster. Dr. Carlton proceeded to scold her for using her foot, X-rayed it and applied a new cast. When he was finished, he held open the door of the exam room, and Cheryl maneuvered herself out on her crutches.

  “There doesn’t seem to be any damage to the healing bones,” he informed her. “This is a walking cast I’ve put on. It is not a running, jumping or dancing cast, understood? I don’t want you putting your full weight on that foot yet. Use the crutches for another two weeks, then a cane if it’s comfortable.”

  She listened with only half an ear as he gave instructions to a petite, dark-haired nurse. When he turned back, he said, “I wish I could place where I know you from, young lady.”

  “Maybe she just looks like someone you know,” his nurse suggested.

  Cheryl tensed. She’d been told she looked like her mother. Could he have known Mira?

  “Maybe. It’ll come to me,” he said.

  “Where’s Kayla now?” Cheryl asked, eager to see her.

  “I’ll find out for you,” the nurse answered.

  Cheryl was given the room number, then made her way down the hospital corridor. At Kayla’s door, she paused. A sign said visitors were limited to family only. Should she go in?

  Family or not, she needed to know for herself that Kayla was okay. She put her hand on the door.

  “You can’t go in there.”

  Cheryl turned to see Merci Slader coming down the hall.

  “Hospital policy—family only,” Merci said, stopping beside Cheryl. “Kayla is fine. I just checked with her nurse. Actually, I’m a bit surprised that you’re still here. I thought you’d be on your way by now.”

  “I’ll leave when I’m ready, Merci.” She considered confronting the woman about the letter, but decided against it. There were more important things to think about. Like Kayla.

  “I think the sooner you move on the better it will be for everyone. I know Sam thought you could help watch the girls, but obviously you can’t do that in your condition. Isn’t this terrible accident proof of that?” With a smug parting smile, she left.

  Cheryl watched Merci go, then squared her shoulders. She needed to see Kayla, and she wasn’t about to let Merci Slader or a few puny hospital rules stop her. She pushed open the door.

  Inside, she found Sam seated beside Kayla’s bed with Lindy curled up in his lap. He had one arm stretched over the metal rail, and he stroked Kayla’s dark curls as she lay on the pristine sheets. She looked terribly small and helpless.

  Sam spoke as Cheryl came and stood beside him. “Kayla, baby. Cheryl’s here.”

  Kayla opened sleepy eyes and smiled up at Cheryl. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself, Tweedledee. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  Lindy leaned toward the bed and touched her sister’s face. “I told them,” she whispered.

  Kayla’s lip quivered and tears filled her eyes as she focused on Cheryl. “Are you gonna leave now? Please, don’t go. We want you to take care of us!”

  Sam tried to comfort her, but she continued to cry and plead. He sent Cheryl an imploring look and she understood. Kayla needed to stay calm and to rest.

  “I’ll stay as long as you need me.” Planting a kiss on Kayla’s brow, she added, “Why don’t you try and sleep now?”

  Kayla sniffled. “You won’t leave until I’m asleep, will you?”

  “No. I promise.”

  “Okay. Daddy, can Lindy sleep with me?”

  “Sure.” Sam settled Lindy in the bed with her sister. They snuggled together and Kayla slept at last.

  Cheryl moved away from the bed and spoke in a low voice. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I should have been keeping a better eye on them.”

  “Hush. It wasn’t your fault. I’ve told them a dozen times not to walk on the top of the fences. Besides, you saved her life.” Sam drew her into his arms and settled his chin on top of her head as he held her close.

  She relished the strength and the feeling of safety his embrace gave her. She rested against his tall, strong body, gathering comfort from his arms around her. It felt so right. She had promised to stay as long as Kayla needed her, but what on earth was she getting herself into?

  Sam held her away and looked into her eyes. “Have I said thank-you?”

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered, gazing at him. He was everything her heart needed. His touch sent her senses singing with happiness. Before she knew what to expect, he bent his head and kissed her. The warmth of his lips spread to the center of her chest and sent her heart racing with delight.

  A knock on the door brought her back to earth, and she quickly stepped away as Walter poked his head in.

  Sam let Cheryl go reluctantly. He wanted her back in his arms, but instead, he spoke to his obviously worried grandfather. “Come in, Gramps.”

  “I got your message and came as quick as I could. How is she?” He moved to the bedside and reached a trembling hand down to caress Kayla’s hair.

  “The doctor wants to keep her overnight for observation. Her lungs are clear. She’s got a goose-egg-size lump on the back of her head, but nothing’s broken.”

  “Good.”

  “It could have been so much worse.”

  “I’ve outlived my wife and my son. I sure don’t want to outlive my great-granddaughter.”

  Cheryl laid a comforting hand on the old man’s arm. He squeezed it in return, then wiped at his eyes. “What do you need me to do, Sammy?”

  Sam rubbed a weary hand over his face. “I’ll spend the night here. Could you drive Cheryl back to the ranch?”

  “No. Let me stay,” Cheryl pleaded.

  “Look, why don’t we do this,” Walter suggested. “I’ll stay with the girls while you take Cheryl home, and you can change.” He gave Sam a wry smile as he looked him up and down. “I hate to bring it up, but you smell a bit ripe.”

  Sam looked down at his boots and jeans. Gramps was right. He hadn’t paid the least bit of attention to what he knelt in when he’d laid Kayla down in the corral. He grimaced and said, “You always said it’s the smell of money.”

  Walter gave him a little push to get him started toward the door. “Every rancher says that. Go home and come back when you smell broke. I’ll be here if the girls need anything.”

  “Okay, you win. Thanks.” With a glance at the sleeping twins, he allowed Cheryl and himself to be herded out the door.

  Cheryl paused as she entered the quiet house. It echoed with emptiness. The children added the life that made it home. The thought brought her up short. When had she started thinking of this place as home? It wasn’t. It could never be. Not for her.

  She changed while Sam went to shower, then she retrieved her wallet from under Lindy’s pillow. Slowly, she made her way upstairs, sat on the sofa and laid her head back with a weary sigh. She had been a fool to promise Kayla she would stay longer. Every day she remained here she risked being exposed. She didn’t want her past laid bare before Sam and his family. She cared about them. She wasn’t the same angry, foolhardy girl who had caused so much harm all those years ago.

  Raising her fingertips to her temples, she tried to massage away her dull headache. What was she doing getting more involved with this family? It didn’t take a genius to see that Sam and the children were growing fond of her. That she returned their regard didn’t change things. She wasn’t b
eing fair to them by building up their hopes that she would stay.

  Feeling tired but restless, she rose and opened the sliding glass door to the balcony and took a deep breath of fresh air. The soft evening breeze toyed with her hair as she stepped out and sat on the glider. Quietly, she rocked and watched as the sunset colored the timeless hills in shades of rose, lavender and gold.

  She wasn’t given much to introspection, Cheryl realized. She looked forward—never back. The past was too painful. She’d spent her whole life being ashamed of what her father and her half brother had done, what they’d made her a part of. She came to hate this land—the treeless, windswept hills where her mother and her childhood had both died painful deaths.

  Gazing out at hills rolling away to the horizon, Cheryl slowly understood it had been the events that she hated, not this place.

  These hills were a part of her. She knew the call of the meadowlark and the cry of the hawk that rode the wind in lazy circles across a flawless blue sky. She knew the ceaseless wind that sent the long grasses bowing before it in undulating waves. Her soul heard the music the wind played in the grass just as surely as she heard it when she danced.

  The balcony door opened, but she didn’t turn around. Dusk was fading and the evening stars began to shine in the darkening heavens. These hills may have been her home once, but not anymore. She wasn’t strong enough to face the prejudice and shame all over again. The thought of Sam finding out what she had done sent a chill racing down her spine.

  He sat beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulder. She wanted to lean against him, to draw comfort from his strength and warmth, but she didn’t. Silently, she watched the stars come out, one by one.

  She was so close to falling in love with this man. The earthy, masculine scent of him filled her with hopes and dreams she didn’t fully understand. The tender way he stroked her hair left her feeling strangely content. It would be so easy to let herself love him.

  She was already half in love with his daughters. Lindy and Kayla had crept into her heart when she wasn’t looking. Somewhere between trading places under the table and the near tragedy today, they had opened her eyes to the joys of having children be a part of her life.

  Until today, she had believed that to dance was all she needed. The grueling work, the pain and the joy of the dance was what she lived for. It was an all-consuming life because she wanted it that way. On the stage, people admired her for what she could do, for her talent, not for who she was inside. She didn’t believe that she deserved someone to love and to be loved by in return.

  Now, Sam and the children were showing her a different kind of life. A life where family came first. Where people worked together because they loved each other, not because they had to. But that life shimmered just beyond her reach—because she couldn’t stay.

  She was risking discovery, but more than that, she was risking a terrible heartache. Staying was out of the question. She would remain until she was certain Kayla was all right, then she’d leave. Sam’s arm tightened around her shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Just tired,” she said quickly. Somehow, she had to find the strength to harden her heart against this longing to stay in his arms.

  She moved out of his embrace, stood and pushed her hair back as she tried for a nonchalant tone. “I must say, cowboy, this place has supplied me with more excitement in one week than I’ve had in the last ten years. I don’t know how you stand it.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah. It’s been one tough day. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded as she moved away from him to stand at the balcony rail.

  Sam felt empty and cold without her warmth against his side. He wanted her back in his arms. She had saved his child’s life, and he was indebted to her, but it wasn’t gratitude he felt when he held her. It was much more, yet he found it hard to trust his feelings. It was harder still to put them into words. He’d been wrong about a woman once before. What if he was wrong again?

  How did Cheryl feel about what was happening between them? He wanted to ask, but maybe this wasn’t the right time. “I guess we’ve both had a little too much excitement,” he said.

  She gave him a weak smile before she turned back to stare out into the night. “That’s for sure. I’ll be glad to get back to New York where life is safe and calm. It’s been fun, cowboy, but I can’t take much more of this.”

  There was his answer—she couldn’t wait to leave. “I’m sorry you had to lie.”

  She spun toward him, her face pale in the starlight. “What do you mean?”

  “When you told Kayla you would stay.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “What did you think I meant?”

  “Nothing. It wasn’t a lie. I will stay until she’s better.”

  “What if someone else asks you to stay? Would you consider it?” His slender stalk of hope wouldn’t die. He waited, afraid to breathe. He almost missed her soft whisper.

  “I would have to say—no.”

  Disappointment burned itself deep in his heart. Turning away, Sam walked through the house and out the door.

  Moments later, he found himself standing in front of Dusty’s stall in the dimly lit barn. The horse stretched his neck over the stall door in greeting. Sam began to stroke the gelding’s sturdy neck, drawing comfort from the sleek hide under his hand.

  Cheryl had made it plain that she couldn’t wait to get back to New York. She wouldn’t stay. She didn’t want him, just as Natalie hadn’t wanted him.

  Hurt and confusion churned inside him until he thought he might explode. Why did he keep falling for the same kind of woman? What was wrong with him?

  “I won’t play the fool again. I won’t love her.” Bold words, but Sam knew it was already too late for him.

  Chapter Nine

  Sam glanced with concern at his daughters seated beside him in the truck as he drove home from the hospital the next day. “You two sure are quiet.”

  Lindy looked at her sister and then back at him. “I don’t think we have anything to say.”

  This didn’t feel right. The doctor had given Kayla a clean bill of health, but Sam began to worry she’d been affected more than they realized. Only when they arrived home, and Kayla saw Cheryl did some of the animation return to her face.

  Kayla climbed out of the truck and rushed to Cheryl. “You’re here. When you didn’t come to the hospital with Daddy, I thought you might have gone away.”

  “I told you I’d stay until you were better.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t leave.”

  Cheryl bent down and caught the child in a hug. “I’m glad you’re glad.” She planted a quick kiss on Kayla’s cheek.

  Sam’s hands clenched into fists at his side. The twins adored Cheryl already. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be for them when she left. She had no right to make them love her, then leave the way their mother had.

  He felt a touch on his hand, and he glanced down at Lindy’s worried face. He forced a smile to his lips.

  “Aren’t you glad Cheryl is going to stay, Daddy?” she asked.

  He met Cheryl’s gaze. “Let’s not forget it’s only for a few more days,” he answered flatly.

  For a fleeting instant, he thought he saw a look of pain in Cheryl’s beautiful eyes, but the expression was gone so quickly he decided he’d imagined it.

  Sam expected Kayla’s bubbly personality to reassert itself once she was home, but it didn’t, and he watched with growing concern as she became Cheryl’s little shadow. Kayla sat quietly beside Cheryl on the sofa or out on the glider when the weather was nice, but she never moved far from her new heroine’s side. Lindy hovered close by, quiet and uncertain, waiting for her sister to notice her.

  Two days later, he caught Cheryl’s worried glance when Kayla refused to go riding with Walter. Kayla and Lindy were both good riders, and they loved to tag along on their ponies while their great-grandpa regaled them with stories of the
old days. Sam spent the day with a dejected Lindy by his side, and his concerns grew. It would break Kayla’s heart when Cheryl left.

  That night Kayla insisted only Cheryl could tuck her in. Sam tucked Lindy in and kissed her good-night as Cheryl did the same for Kayla. They left the children’s room together and climbed the stairs.

  Cheryl broke the uneasy silence first. “Sam, I’m worried about Kayla.”

  “She’s my daughter. It’s my job to worry about her, not yours.”

  Cheryl frowned at him. “I know whose daughter she is, but I can still see something is wrong.”

  “Can you? Can you see how badly Lindy feels when Kayla all but ignores her and follows you around like a puppy? Can you see how differently they act? They don’t even talk the same anymore.”

  Cheryl laid a hand on his arm. “I see those things, but I don’t see why you’re angry at me.”

  He pulled his arm away. “Kayla turns to you now for everything, instead of her family. I think she’d get back to normal sooner if she didn’t have someone interfering.”

  “Someone, meaning me?” Cheryl drew away from him, her voice cold and formal.

  “Maybe you don’t realize it, but they really care about you. Will it even matter to you that you’re leaving two brokenhearted kids behind?”

  “Of course I care. How can you think I don’t?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “I promised Kayla I would stay as long as she needed me, but if you want me to go, I will.”

  Sam stared at her, unable to read the expression in her eyes. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay forever, but she wouldn’t do that. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he turned away feeling tired, empty and sad. “You’re free to go anytime.”

  As the adults parted, two curly heads ducked back down the stairwell. They watched their father go out the front door while Cheryl crossed to her bedroom.

  “See what you did?” Lindy hissed at her sister.

  “What? I didn’t do nothin’.”

  “Cheryl’s gonna leave now.”

  “But I don’t want her to. I want her to stay and be our mommy,” Kayla insisted.