Dancing Ladies

by Marilyn Gardiner

  "Stop it! You've had too much to drink."

  "Too much Mr. Pibb? Sure.” He lifted his head and laughed, making laugh lines crinkle the corners of his eyes. A tingle rushed through her, sweet and impossibly strong.

  "And now that we've successfully buried the past, we need to think about the present. Let's take a ride. There's something I'd like to show you."

  "What?"

  "Never mind. You'll see when you get there. Take your cell in case Max calls.” He rose and held out a hand.

  "Do I get to ride in the new Jeep?"

  "Yup. I dusted off the seat just for you."

  He gripped her hand in his and led the way. “When we come back I'll take you on in a game of Black and White."

  "You don't mean Max's computer thing?"

  "Sure. The computer game. Or did he take it with him to Lionel's house?"

  "No. It's here. But I don't think—"

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you scared? Bet I take you before—Before eleven o'clock. Or are you afraid I'll stomp you into the ground?"

  Her own eyebrows went up. “You're on. Don't forget that game lives at my house. It's no stranger around here."

  "Yeah? Should I be shaking in my boots?"

  "Rule number one under this roof is that everyone has to suffer the consequences of their actions. You challenged me."

  He handed her into the Jeep, closed the door and sprinted around the front to crawl in the driver's side.

  As they made their way through town she couldn't help but watch the play of emotions across his face. This was a man content within his own skin. She could see his eagerness to share something with her, feel his hope to please her. It was amazing, but she noticed a fascination with the tilt of his wrist as he drove. When had she ever paid attention to a man's wrists, of all things? She closed her eyes and faced forward. That line of thinking was non-productive.

  "Ever been to Shooter's Hill at night?” he asked.

  "The make-out spot for teens? That's none of your business. And anyway, it was a long time ago."

  "A-hah! Who was the lucky guy?"

  "I don't remember."

  "Fat chance!"

  "Well I'm not telling you even if I do remember."

  "That's were we're going tonight. Not where all the kids go, but another place further up. Stace and I are learning the constellations and some of the planets. On a clear night, it's awesome."

  "You're taking me to a make-out spot?"

  "That's the idea."

  "Hang on.” She held up a hand like a stop sign. “I'm not about to—” Her voice rose.

  "No hanky panky."

  "Hanky panky? Is that what they call it now?"

  "Whatever they call it, we won't have any."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise. I just want you to see the sky from there. It's amazing."

  Kate's heart slowed somewhat. “Okay. Just to see the night sky.” The only other time she'd been here, she'd been sixteen years old and the beauty of the night sky had been ruined by a wrestling match in the front seat of the car. This time there would be no confrontations. Cass said so. She'd take him at his word.

  She strove for normalcy. “Have you ever taken Stacey to a Planetarium? There's a nice one in St. Louis and another in Chicago."

  "Not yet. One of these days. There's no hurry."

  "I know a place she'd dearly love. There's a wonderful Butterfly House in St. Louis. Mom and I went last summer. No night skies, but you walk around in this tropical paradise with butterflies riding on your shoulder, your finger, your head, and fluttering all around you. There are waterfalls, blooming flowers everywhere—especially orchids, twisting, narrow paths to follow ... It's a fairy-like place. You have to take her."

  "Why don't we all go and take both kids? Make a day of it and go to the zoo as well. We could pack a picnic or find someplace up there to eat. We could—” He stopped at the look on her face. “Kate?"

  All of a sudden she felt crowded. The two of them and their kids, all day, sounded too much like a family. And she wasn't sure how she felt about that. It needed some considering.

  "We'll see,” she said, finally. “Maybe some day.” She sat up straighter in her seat and peered out the windshield at the trees on the hillside. “How far is this place we're going?"

  He flicked another look at her as if trying to read her mind and then accepted the change in subject. “Almost there."

  Within minutes, the headlights picked up a picnic table and a wired-to-a-post garbage can in one corner of a small clearing and then the rocky bluff going straight up in a layered, irregular strata of limestone. Cass angled the Jeep in toward the hillside and cut the lights.

  "It's a clear night. I'll put a blanket out on the ground so we can look up without breaking our necks and I expect to hear plenty of heartfelt words of appreciation.” He reached into the back and drew out a huge, heavy blanket.

  Kate stood to one side, behind the Jeep, and tapped a foot. “Looks to me as if you've had practice at this. I hope this isn't a feeble attempt at ‘come see my etchings.’ Just how many females have you brought here to ooh and ahh over the view?"

  "You have your secrets and I have mine,” he answered and grunted with the effort to straighten the blanket. “You could help with your end, you know."

  She bent to grab one side of the blanket and then sat on it to hold it firm. He lowered himself beside her, scooted around and then lay flat on his back.

  He patted the blanket. “This is the best way to get the full impact. Close your eyes and then look up. I guarantee you'll be awed."

  Gingerly, Kate lay back with her eyes closed, fished under the blanket with one hand to dislodge a stone, wriggled to get comfortable, and opened her eyes.

  She didn't try to camouflage her gasp. A dense dusting of glittering stars swept across the inky, velvet blackness of the sky. It seemed suddenly as if the entire world was filled with winking bits of gems scattered across the heavens. A brilliant lantern moon swam in the midst of all the stars, casting a faint milky glow across the night. Kate felt swallowed by the enormity and beauty of it all.

  "Oh Cass,” she breathed. “It's wonderful."

  "Yeah,” he answered on a sigh. “My feeling exactly."

  "It's raining stars!” Kate caught her breath. “I can almost feel them around me.” Something hard and edgy melted within her at the magical feel of the night and the man beside her.

  "I know,” he said simply. “And for your information, the only girl I've ever brought here is Stacey. Since high school, that is. You're the first, except for her."

  "I'm impressed."

  They were silent for long minutes, lost in absorbing a sense of wonder at the huge expanse and beauty of the river of stars above them. A fresh woodsy scent was all about them. A gentle breeze sighed through the pines and from somewhere below, down in the valley, there was the whine of a motor, the bark of a dog, a faint whisper of music. Kate could feel her muscles begin to relax almost one by one.

  Her voice was barely audible, as if she was afraid to break the spell. “I can't even remember when I last took the time to look at the stars. You can't see them from Winnetka because of all the city lights, but I'm not sure you can see them anywhere as beautifully as right here. This is special."

  "I thought so.” He reached for her hand and held it quietly by his side. And Kate did nothing to discourage him. It seemed right somehow, to be in physical touch with him in the presence of such magnificence. Slowly he entwined his fingers in hers.

  The sky was so clear that each star seemed etched against the sky, sharp and clear as if they'd been individually stamped out of diamonds.

  "I'm glad,” he said, “that no one else has brought you here like this."

  "M-m-m-m,” was all she could manage. “It's a lovely gift. Thank you."

  He released her hand and put that arm around her, snugging her up close against him. “Perfect,” he said. “Absolutely perfect."

  Kate wasn't s
ure what he meant was perfect, the night, her, or the combination, but she didn't ask. She felt the rightness of the moment, too, and wondered why it was that she seemed to belong exactly where she was, in the curve of his arm. Her head on his shoulder. Why she wasn't shoving him away? There was something different about Cass. He filled an empty spot within her that she hadn't even known needed filling.

  The air seemed suddenly thick with unspoken emotion. Her heart clubbed against her breast bone and she could hear that his breathing had deepened.

  "Can you see...” His voice was raspy, and he stopped and pointed heavenward with the other hand. He cleared his throat and began again. “Can you ... Dammit, a promise is a promise, I guess."

  Eyes steady on the stars, she ignored the fact that her stomach had gone all gooey, and answered, “That's what you told Max."

  "Insert size twelve work boots into one big mouth.” His pointing finger made circles in the air. “Up there, somewhere, is the Seven Sisters and the Queen's Chair and..."

  "...and,” she prompted, her breath shallow.

  He lifted on one elbow and looked down at her. “Some promises are made to be broken."

  For the life of her, she couldn't find a voice or words to answer.

  The little white top she wore had a deeply scalloped neckline, leaving her throat and neck bare. With one finger he traced the loops of the cotton knit against her skin, leaving a searing trail behind. A shudder shimmered from the top of her head to her toes.

  His eyes never left hers and somehow their caress seemed more intimate than the kiss the other evening. Her thoughts scattered. The intense look in his eyes mirrored what she felt, and she knew a moment of disorientation. It was as if she could see into his mind, because her thoughts were the same. Want, need, like a tidal wave, swam through her veins.

  This was Cass, she reminded herself, struggling for some sort of perspective. He had been a boy all those years ago when he'd first looked at her like this, but now he was a man. All man. And she knew what he wanted as if he'd said it aloud.

  She was terribly conscious of his nearness. He wasn't a huge, beefy man, but somehow he seemed to be taking up all the space in the clearing. He did things to her nerve endings. Things she couldn't remember ever feeling before. Not even with Huey. For a panicky second she wanted to push him away. Push him away before he got close enough to her inner core to maybe hurt her. Yet, at the same time, she needed more than anything to press herself to him from neck to knee.

  "Cass?"

  Abruptly he turned away and flung himself flat on the blanket. His voice was husky with emotion. “Can you ... uh ... find the Seven Sisters? They're...” His voice trailed away. “I'm sorry, Kate. I'm within a hair of breaking a promise here."

  "M-m-m. Maybe it's just too much, too soon."

  He nodded without speaking and gripped her in a one-armed hold he might use on a wrench, tightening a bolt. After a moment, he slid his arm out from beneath her shoulders and held up their joined hands to look at the shadow they made against the sky. He hooked his thumb with hers and spread their fingers against the moon.

  "Nice, huh? Kate and Cass. Cass and Kate. Good image."

  When she didn't answer, he let their hands drop and striving for a normal tone, he said, “I need a change of scenery here. Something else to think about. Tell me more about Leah. So far, my impression isn't one of sweetness and light."

  It took Kate a moment to make the change in mind-set. “No. Sweetness and light isn't something I'd connect with Leah. She was a wild spirit, I guess. She was mischievous, loved a good time, was always up for anything new and different. Fiercely loyal. Dedicated to her dance. She loved ballet and was becoming very, very good. She had a dark side, too, but—I'm probably not the person to ask. I'm her twin."

  "Was her dark side dark enough to lead her into the kind of harassment we think she's been up to?"

  Kate hesitated, still aware of the warmth of his body touching hers, his hand gripping hers. Strength seemed to emanate from him, flowing into her hand through his. What did she believe about Leah?

  "I believe there are some things that go on in the spiritual world that we have no control over. And no answers for."

  "Go on."

  "I don't know. There is a statue in our utility shed that Dad bought when we were both young. It is so like her, I can't bear to look at it. I'm almost afraid to look at it, and I know that doesn't make sense. It is just a hunk of marble. But that's the way it is."

  She drew a shaky breath and lightened her tone. “You didn't bring me up here to whine on your shoulder. I'm a coward and possibly even delusional."

  He made a rude noise. “You know better than that. You're none of those things. What you are, is scared, and justly so. A pathologically jealous, dead, twin sister coming back from the grave to terrorize you—If that doesn't scare you spitless there'd be something wrong with you."

  "I sometimes think it's all an illusion. You know, like David Copperfield produces. And I wonder if there is anyone else in the world who could make something like this happen."

  "I can't imagine anyone in central Illinois having a vendetta against you to begin with, let alone being violent enough to produce illusions like this."

  "I'm not subject to hallucinations, or at least I never have been. I'm not an imaginative person. I paint what I see. I deal in the absolute. Not in magic."

  "It's curious to me that Leah hasn't revealed herself to anyone but you. I've seen what her visits produce, but not her."

  "Count your blessings! There are moments when I remember how much she loved me and I feel guilty for even thinking she might do something like this. How can I fight with her if she's not here to fight back and make up after? Mom and Dad are gone too, so I can't talk to them. There's nobody."

  He rolled to his side, facing her. “I'm here for you. You know I'm here."

  There was a quick hitch in her chest and a tightening that made her meet his eyes for one breathless moment. She brought their entwined hands to her breast and held them there. “That helps more than you know. More than I can tell you."

  He looked at her for a long moment, dragged in a long, slow breath and sat up. “Take a look at the other half of the view before I do something I shouldn't.” And he pulled her up beside him.

  The moon rode high above them. Splashes of spangling silver light lay a shaft of brilliance across the river. Cass was right. The moment was, indeed, perfect. Peaceful. Lovely. Someone special at her side. Kate thought briefly that there weren't many times in one lifetime when you could say that. This moment is perfect. I'll remember it forever. And she promised herself she would remember the very second when she thought that maybe, just maybe, it would be possible to love again. Someone. Someday.

  "Let's go home,” she said, laughing and gathering her legs beneath her. “I still have to beat your butt at Black and White. You brought me out here and plied me with the night and the stars and gave it your best shot to distract me from our bet. But it won't work. I'm way ahead of you."

  There was a predatory gleam in his eye for an instant, when he accepted that she was ending the interlude, and then he surged to his feet and grabbed her hand. “If I remember right, the computer was in that front room with all the orchids. Let's see how much damage we can do with those men and weird little creatures on the screen."

  * * * *

  They laughed their way through worlds one, two and three before putting the game on hold long enough to pop some corn and refresh their drinks.

  "Almost eleven,” he smirked. “And I'm ahead."

  "Not enough to brag about. You cheated back in the first world!"

  "Nuh-huh. That was entirely legal. If you could find the rules, I'd prove it to you. Are you going to be a sore loser?"

  "This game isn't over, and you're only ahead by ten percent. I wouldn't crow yet!"

  But by eleven o'clock it was plain to see she wasn't going to catch him in time. She negotiated for eleven thirty and he agreed. At the
allotted time he was still ahead.

  Kate defended herself. “My man is stronger and bigger than yours!"

  "Yeah, but mine learned more than yours. You're doomed."

  "Never!"

  At midnight she admitted defeat.

  "You misrepresented yourself,” she accused. “I assumed you knew nothing about this game."

  "Ah, but did I say that?"

  "You didn't say you were a master player!” Kate led the way back into the living room.

  He laughed, following. “One of those discs lives at our house, too. We play almost every time Stace comes over."

  A big hand shot out to snare the couch pillow she fired at his head, and he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “And now I get to collect my winnings."

  "What winnings? Nothing was said about winnings."

  "Mmmm, let's see.” His eyebrows waggled playfully.

  She flushed and backed away. “Nuh-huh. You said no hanky-panky."

  "Stace calls it playing kissy-face, but whatever you call it we are no longer on Shooter's Hill and all promises are off.” His hands were on her waist drawing her closer and his eyes teased. “We have some unfinished business. Come here, lady."

  He pulled her slowly forward until she was snug against him. Her heart kicked up a notch and—oh lordy, but it felt good to be held again. His hands were firm but gentle and his body felt as strong as a tree trunk, crushed as she was against it.

  Leah. Kate managed one rational thought. Leah wouldn't like it.

  "This is probably not a good idea. Uh, Cass..."

  "Yeah?"

  His hands moved up and over her back and a tingling zinged all the way from her heels to her hairline. The man had great hands. Oh my—truly great hands.

  He made a small sound of longing. “Your skin is like satin. Katey. My Kate..."

  "Cass, wait. Cass. Cass! I'm not in the market for a ... Cass, you aren't listening.” His eyes were glazing over.

  "Sure I am. What did you say?"

  "I'm really not a good risk right now for anything more than friendship. I told you that, that first day."

  "Right. Friends. Good friends.” His mouth lowered and his head angled to match hers. “Very good friends."