by Lilian Darcy
“I know. I’m so sorry.” She remembered the message in the pigeonhole at school and cursed herself for assuming it would be something non-urgent and not checking it.
“He went with Jamie in the ambulance, but we couldn’t leave the kids here on their own. I’ve been a mess. I even tried calling Mom, but she’s out, too. If you could come home, then I can drive to Bozeman right away.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Half an hour.”
Harrison didn’t need much of an explanation, after she’d put down the phone. “Go,” he said. “I can tell it’s a family emergency.”
Kate sketched out the detail briefly, and was out of his house without ever sitting down. He saw her to the pickup, and when she was seated behind the wheel she looked down at him. There was a kiss in his eyes and need in his face, but she couldn’t spare any time for it and he knew it. “I’m in court in Helena tomorrow,” he said. “An arson case dating from eighteen months ago. So I won’t be able to call you or see you.”
“That’s fine.”
“It’s not. Really wish I didn’t have to go.”
“It sounds like a long day.”
“You got that right! Might spill into Friday, too. But I’ll be back for prom, because I promised my nephew.”
“I’m at prom, too. We talked about that.”
“We did. Might see you.”
“Hope so. And then…”
“Next time,” he said, “we won’t end it this way.”
“Next time,” she promised, and meant it as much as she’d ever meant anything in her life.
CHAPTER SIX
Harrison spent a solitary, restless night rolling tighter and tighter in his rumpled sheets in a state of acute, incurable frustration—not the way he’d wanted the evening with Kate to end. He got up at six to make the drive to Helena to give his testimony in the arson case, and called Rick Styles as soon as there was a break in the court proceedings mid-morning. “I want the property taken off the market,” he said. “I’ve decided not to sell.”
He could afford to buy Christie out, if she could be patient for a month or two while he refinanced the mortgage. It hadn’t made sense before, and it probably didn’t make sense now, but he wanted to do it anyhow.
There was a thick, three-second silence at the other end of the line. “Could I ask why?” Rick said.
“Uh… personal reasons.”
Personal reasons so crazy and intuitive and fragile, in the cold light of day, that he didn’t want to put them into words, and might second guess them this time next week.
I’ve decided not to sell, because I want to live here with a woman I kissed for the first time about nine hours ago. She came, right there against my hand, and she was amazing, and then she peeled off my shirt with the most magical fingers, and then we didn’t get any further because she had to go, and I want her so bad, but it’s not just wanting, it’s something else, something more…
It really was crazy. He wouldn’t even dare to tell Kate he was doing this, calling Rick like this, in case it scared her off.
She hadn’t been back for a second look at the place—or not that Rick had told him, anyhow. The man had been playing his cards close to his vest since Harrison’s gaffe in being present when a potential buyer came through. Rick kept saying there was “encouraging interest” and “significant activity” but that was as much detail as he would reveal.
Harrison thought Kate had sincerely loved the place. She couldn’t have faked all those smiles and eager looks, or the easy conversation they’d shared as they wandered around. Things would have been a lot more awkward between them that day if she hadn’t liked his piece of property. But she’d wondered aloud to him about the wisdom of taking on such a place on her own, five acres to look after, and it made sense. If she’d decided not to buy for that reason, he wouldn’t blame her at all.
But if there were two of us…
It was crazy to like her that much, to want her that much, to plan for something serious and important so soon, on the basis of one warm, intense, frustrating evening, when by some people’s definition they hadn’t even made love.
Still, he was doing it anyhow, and he didn’t understand how it could make him feel so dizzy and so grounded, both at the same time.
If there were two of them, keeping the place would be a very different proposition.
If there were two of them.
How could he want a woman this much, with this much intuition?
“May I ask…?” Rick was saying.
“Sorry,” he told the realtor quickly, because he was due back in for a resumption of the court case soon, and because he really could not put his decision into words. “It’s nothing you did. It really is just personal.”
“Well, if you change your mind…”
“Thanks, yes. I’d definitely come back to you, to list the property again.”
But he hoped he didn’t have to.
Kate yawned as she navigated her way through the breakfast routine on the ranch. She was pretty good at it by now, as it mostly fell to her, even when Rob and Melinda were here. Rob was always out working by this hour, and Melinda tended to hover in the background, worrying out loud about whether the kids should take coats or jackets, and where their school library books were.
Today, Friday, Rob was out branding with a couple of hired hands, while Melinda was still at the hospital with Jamie. He was a mischievous little monster, and a sweetheart, and a fanatic about rodeo. His scan on Wednesday night had shown a tiny bleed between the lobes of the brain, but his behavior had been perfectly normal over the past twenty-four hours, and Melinda had called half an hour ago with the update that he would be discharged this morning. “I’m sorry, Kate, I don’t know when we’ll get away, though. If you can get the kids to school…”
“Of course.”
“I’m so sorry about Wednesday night, making you come home early.”
“It’s fine, Melinda.”
Those long kisses, the challenge she hadn’t meant to set, but that Harrison had risen to with exceptional skill… every time she thought about it, she melted and couldn’t stop smiling, still. And she wanted so much to see him, or hear from him, because there was a little vulnerability in the mix, too. It was a pretty naked thing to do, letting a man do that to her, showing so much of herself to him while he stayed… not exactly in control, but with his eyes open.
Had he kept his eyes open? She didn’t know, because hers had been blissfully closed.
When the kids were finally on their way down to the gate to wait for the bus, she hurried into the shower and washed herself with the same fresh awareness of her own body that she’d had yesterday. Her skin felt so sensitive, so aware.
Away in Helena, in the dry atmosphere of a court room, she wondered if Harrison was feeling the same thing.
She floated off to school, passing the kids’ bus for Marietta Elementary on the way. Several years ago, when Rose and then RJ had started school, they’d tried having Kate drop the children off at school in the mornings, but it hadn’t worked once there were two of them. The chaos of trying to get herself ready while the children were still in the house, and then the bickering in the back seat as she drove. By the time the triplets started kindergarten, the bus was an established routine that had saved her sanity.
Or maybe it had just postponed the time when the pressure became too much.
I’m moving into my own place…
The thought brought calm, and calm made her think of Harrison, and thinking of Harrison made her smile. Again. And flutter with sudden doubt. Again.
She arrived at school actively looking forward to helping the prom committee finish decorating the gym for tonight’s big event, even though it would take her entire lunch hour and the free period that came after it. It would be a distraction, and she needed one.
Rick Styles called for her just as she was about to head for the scene of activity, and his words hit her out of the blue. “Thought I should l
et you know,” he said, “The Whitcomb Road property has been taken off the market.”
“The Whitcomb—You mean Harrison Pearce’s place?’
“That’s right.”
“So you’re saying it’s sold?” She felt a kick of disappointment, despite her very practical acceptance that it really didn’t make sense for her to buy it, and her brain raced to keep up with what this meant. Harrison moving. Strangers living there. Harrison moving where?
But then Rick said, “No, I’m saying the seller has had a change of plan and has decided to hold onto the property.”
“A change of plan? I don’t understand. Why?”
“Personal reasons.”
“What personal reasons?”
“Miz MacCreadie, I’m sorry, I don’t have any detail.” He’d begun to sound impatient about her abrupt interrogation. “Mr. Pearce called me from Helena this morning and told me he no longer wanted to list the property, citing personal reasons, and that’s all I know. Could be he and his ex are getting back together. Isn’t she from Helena? I wanted to let you know, in case you were still considering a purchase.”
“I—No, I wasn’t. Thank you.”
“Can I ask if this means you’ve firmed your thinking about the kind of place you’re looking for?” he pressed.
“Um, yes, I’ve decided against buying acreage. It really doesn’t make sense.”
“In that case, I have a couple of new listings in town that might interest you. Would you like to arrange a time to see them?”
“Uh, not now. I’ll—get back to you. Thanks.”
She put down the phone, cheeks hot and heart beating fast. Around her, the staff-room was buzzing with lunchtime conversation. The phone rang again and she stepped quickly away from it. Someone else would have to answer. She needed a moment.
A thousand moments.
Rick’s news felt like a slap in the face and she didn’t know what to think. Two nights ago, Harrison hadn’t even hinted that he might not be selling the property after all. He’d said he was going to Helena for a court appearance, and he’d seemed reluctant about it. She’d thought, with a glow, that he would have much preferred to see her again instead of traveling. He hadn’t mentioned his ex. But Rick was right, the former Mrs. Pearce was from Helena, and she’d gone back there less than two months ago, and Harrison hadn’t given any indication that he still had feelings for her, but—
He’d brought Kate undone, right there in the open, in the dark, and she hadn’t done the same for him… or they hadn’t done it together… because of Rob’s message on the answering machine, and she had no doubt Harrison would have driven to Helena yesterday morning in a state of acute frustration after the sudden end to their night. She’d been pretty frustrated herself, with a lot less cause. What had happened in Helena?
It’s nothing, Kate told herself, and tried to breathe in the calm she always felt when she thought of him, but there was no calm offered today.
She tried to come up with some other rational, sensible reasons why Harrison might have taken his property off the market, but couldn’t. Maybe he’d discovered a structural problem and needed to fix it before he found a buyer. But wouldn’t he have told her about that? Wouldn’t Rick Styles have known?
No other scenarios suggested themselves, and she was left with the one Rick had sketched out. Even though she didn’t believe it… couldn’t believe it… she couldn’t dismiss it from her mind when there were no other reasons that seemed to fit.
She ate a quarter of the sandwich she’d brought for lunch, but couldn’t manage any more. It felt like the bread was sticking in her throat. Then she went off to the gym, where hundreds of silver stars floated in the air on long strings.
This year’s prom theme was “Shine on!” and there were stars, mirrors, and lights enough to create a dazzling interpretation of the idea. There was even a “reflection pool”, made of someone’s old wading pool camouflaged around the edges by drapes of lustrous fabric and a landscaping of artificial plants. The kids had brought mirrors from home and were in the middle of placing them artfully around the big, echoing gym, creating smaller and more intimate alcoves, and reflections that went on forever, and artistic little nooks where antique framed mirrors were set off against banks of more plants and more shimmering fabric.
It was clever and inventive and pretty, and Kate would have loved helping with the finishing touches if—
If.
If she had the slightest clue what to think about Rick Styles’ news. It appalled her that she minded so much about this – that she’d come to care so much about Harrison so quickly, when they hadn’t even slept together… standing in the lee of a car with him and reaching orgasm didn’t count… or explored how serious this was.
When they’d been on one date, for heaven’s sake!
It appalled her, too, that she could feel so instantly vulnerable. That “challenge” of his. She felt stripped bare. Ashamed, suddenly, of something that had felt beautiful and wonderful and perfectly right while it was happening.
She spent nearly two hours going through the motions of helping in the gym, then went back to the classroom for her last two classes of the day, which she taught on auto-pilot to freshmen and sophomore students who, even though they weren’t going to prom, were still infected by the atmosphere and couldn’t focus. School would be out in another week or two. They didn’t want to be here.
Neither did she.
At four she raced home to shower and change, and when she put on the little black cocktail dress that seemed appropriate for a prom chaperone, she wondered if she would even see Harrison tonight. He’d said he was playing chauffeur for his nephew Andy, but maybe he wouldn’t show. If he and his ex were getting back together…
Kate had been thinking about it all afternoon, the whole subject had been churning around and around in her head, and she still couldn’t come up with another reason why Harrison would have taken the property off the market so suddenly, when he’d seemed so certain about selling it just a month ago and when he’d done everything, but said nothing on Wednesday night.
She arrived back at school at just before six, to find a bevy of student prom organizers, full of stage fright about the prospect of the long-planned evening failing to achieve the desired success.
“I know for a fact that Neve and her crew are planning to get here late,” she heard one girl say. “What if everyone does that, and we have a half-empty gym for the first two hours? What if no one comes for the buffet, and just shows for the dancing?”
“Miz MacCreadie, have you ever been at a prom here that’s completely bombed?” somebody asked her, and she tried to give an encouraging and upbeat reply, even though her mind and her heart were a thousand miles away.
“We need a greeter,” Principal Earnshaw told her, arriving abruptly at her side and looking both harried and bored, as if he’d been to thirty stressful, unpleasant proms and might fall asleep in the fruit punch if he had to stay long at this one.
Well, he probably had been to thirty proms.
“A greeter. You mean out front?” Kate said.
“Yes, the parents like it. Proof that we’re paying the right attention.”
“You want me to—?”
“Yes, please,” he said, before she even finished, and she liked the idea of being out on the front steps in the fresh air of this mild evening, until she remembered that Harrison would be pulling up here soon, delivering Andy and his friends.
Unless he’d stayed in Helena, because of his ex. Because the abrupt end to his date with Kate the other night had left him horny or hungry or lonely or all three, and he’d gone to Helena the next day and called her to say he was in town and they’d met up and who knew what had happened next?
He’d taken the property off the market.
That was fact, not just her feverish, emotional imagination.
Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch.
Promptly at six-thirty, the first cars began to arrive.
Just ordinary ones, mostly. Marietta High didn’t run to the streams of rented limos Kate gathered were a feature of prom night at the more sophisticated high schools in the wealthy suburbs of big cities.
But there were a few stand-outs. One couple had painted an ancient Chevy in bright silver and gold for the occasion, and had stuck tiny mirror fragments all over it. There was a pickup truck, too, with its entire bed heaped in tinsel, and more tinsel snaking up the radio antenna and in through the windows.
Then she saw two vintage cars coming down the street. They were both from the nineteen fifties, both lovingly maintained, impeccably finished and gleaming. They turned into the entrance at the front of the school and cruised to a slow halt right at the steps just yards from where Kate was standing. There were a couple of parents nearby, poised to take photos of their kids’ arrival, and she heard their impressed exclamations.
“Those are beautiful!”
“Wow, who is inside?”
A man got out of the first car and Kate recognized Andy Pearce’s dad, Doug.
Harrison’s brother.
Older than Harrison, he was dressed fifties style to match the car, with slicked back hair full of shiny cream and wearing a white shirt, black tie, black pants and a plaid jacket in blues, blacks and greens that was so dazzling it almost hurt the eyes.
He came around to open the door like a chauffeur, and Kate was still thinking in a blank panic that this meant Harrison must be driving the second car, when she saw him. He was dressed fifties style, also, although his grey checked jacket was more subdued and his product-filled hair a little tousled. It had grown since March when it had been so short.
He opened the passenger door, then leaned against the gleaming car, looked across and smiled his slow, open smile at her as if there was nothing wrong at all, no dramatic reunion scene with his ex, Christie in Helena yesterday, no about-face in his future plans.
Or maybe he made a habit of this kind of thing. Hopping back and forth from one woman to another. How would she know?
She didn’t know what to think, and didn’t want him to think she was this… easy, if you were keeping to the fifties theme.
