Phantom Waltz

by Catherine Anderson

  Terror washed through her. “But he’s—he’s here in the hospital now. Right? They’ll fix him up, and he’ll be fine.”

  Jake closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Bethany knew the awful truth before he said it out loud. “He’s hanging on, honey. Been a rough night. Touch and go. The doctors—” He shrugged and swallowed hard.

  The sight of him struggling to control his emotions told Bethany just how grave Ryan’s condition was and made her all the more afraid. “He put himself between me and the bear. He could have run. Tried to save himself. But he protected me.”

  Jake nodded. “I figured.”

  “He can’t—die. He can’t. Not now that he’s in the hospital.” Her voice rose in volume. “He can’t die. Don’t even tell me that! Don’t even!”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m so sorry. They’ve done all they can. He’s too weak right now to undergo surgery. They have him in ICU. The doctors say if he makes it through the night, he’ll be out of the woods.”

  “If?” Bethany began pushing at the blankets. “Take me to him.”

  “Bethany, honey … you’re not in great shape yourself. You shouldn’t—”

  “Take me to him!”

  Evidently Jake saw she meant business. He lifted her from the bed into a hospital wheelchair, covered her legs with a blanket, and pushed her to ICU.

  Three days later, Bethany sat by Ryan’s hospital bed, staring at his lax features. Still heavily drugged for pain, he slept deeply, unaware of what went on around him. A jagged, angry red cut angled over one of his sunken cheeks. She knew it would leave a scar on his beautiful face, every line of which had been engraved on her heart. Oh, how she wished she could kiss him. Touch him. But she was trapped in her wheelchair and couldn’t reach him.

  The doctors said he would live, that the danger was past. He’d undergone surgery on his hip. His other wounds would heal with time. He might always have a limp. But he was going to live.

  Bethany was so glad. So very, very glad. Over the last twenty-four hours, she had cried enough to cause a major flood.

  Ann Kendrick came into the room just then. She stepped around to stand at the opposite side of her son’s bed. After touching his forehead in that universal way of all moms, she fixed sad gray eyes on Bethany.

  “He’ll never understand, you know. It’ll break his heart, Bethany, and he may never forgive you. I know my son.”

  Bethany stared hard at her lap. She hadn’t told Ann or anyone else of her decision, but it didn’t surprise her that Ryan’s mother had guessed. She seemed to be an intuitive lady.

  Bethany found the strength to meet her gaze. “Do you understand, Ann?”

  Ann’s eyes took on a suspicious shine. She stared for a long moment at Ryan. “Yes, I understand,” she admitted softly. “He’ll probably never forgive me for telling you that. I should probably deny it with my last breath, but, yes, I do understand.” She smoothed his black hair with a trembling hand. “If I were in your place, I might do the same thing myself. Kendrick men make wonderful husbands. They love passionately with their whole heart and soul, and they treat a woman like a queen. But as wonderful as it is, being loved that fiercely places a burden of responsibility on a woman’s shoulders as well, especially for someone like you.”

  “A terrible burden,” Bethany agreed.

  “I wish I could tell you he would never again throw himself in the path of danger for you. I know this is as heart-breaking for you as it will be for him. But sadly, I can’t. No telling what it would be next time. A frightened horse or a loco steer.” She shrugged and smiled tearfully. “On a ranch, you just never know, the only certainty being that he’d jump in to protect you and might get hurt.”

  Bethany was so relieved that it wasn’t necessary to explain her reasons. “Oh, Ann, thank you. For understanding, I mean. It’s so hard for me to go.”

  “It’s hard for me to let you go without arguing his case, given the fact that he’s unable to speak for himself right now.” Ann trailed a fingertip over the tray beside Ryan’s bed. “If he were awake, he’d tell you how very much he loves you, and that he’d rather be dead than live without you.”

  Bethany closed her eyes. She knew that was exactly what Ryan would probably say, but hearing Ann say it aloud was worse than merely hearing it in her mind.

  “Loving him as you do, Bethany, I hope you’ve considered the problem from every angle and know with absolute certainty that there’s no way to work it out. I meant it when I said he may never forgive you. This will hurt him so much. I’m sure you know that.” She sighed and shook her head. “Forgive me for butting in. It’s your decision to make, and I should just let you make it. It’s just that I’m not sure he’ll take you back if you should change your mind later. It wouldn’t be fair if I let your leave without telling you that.”

  “I won’t change my mind.” Bethany tried not to look at Ryan. “The day before it happened, we, um … we exchanged wedding vows on Bear Creek Ridge. Just he and I, with only God to hear. One of my promises was that I would try to love him more than I love myself. I’m trying to keep that promise right now.”

  “Oh, sweetie …”

  “If I stay on the ranch, the only way I can avoid putting him at risk again is to stay completely away from the animals. That wouldn’t be a marriage, Ann. He needs someone to share his life with him, someone who can work beside him and dream with him.”

  “I know,” Ann agreed hollowly.

  “All of you tried so hard to make that possible for me,” Bethany whispered raggedly. “You’ll never know how grateful I am. But I just can’t do it. I just—can’t. All the trying in the world won’t make me whole again, and my selfishness almost killed him.”

  “Oh, Bethany …” Ann took a bracing breath. “You’re still very upset, honey, and you may not be thinking clearly. Can you give it a few more days? You need time to distance yourself from what happened up there. Time to let the horror of it become less vivid. Maybe then you’ll feel calmer and see things a little differently.”

  Bethany shook her head and wheeled from the room. Ann followed, her riding boots tapping sharply on the well-waxed tile. “If I wait, I won’t go,” Bethany told her. “I love him so much. It would be so easy to start lying to myself and thinking up reasons to stay. And in the end, I wouldn’t go.”

  “Exactly,” Ann said with a humorless laugh. “That’s my hope.”

  Bethany braked to a stop. “Is it really? You weren’t on the mountain. You didn’t see the bear attack. You’re thinking clearly right now. Look me in the eye and tell me you won’t blame me if Ryan ends up dead trying to protect me from a danger I might have avoided. Can you tell me that?” Bethany waited a beat. “The truth, and please don’t answer lightly. Imagine yourself, standing over his grave. How will you feel when you look at me, Ann?”

  Ann’s face drained of color. She said nothing, but it was all the answer Bethany needed.

  She left Ann Kendrick standing in the hallway and didn’t look back. A few minutes later when she exited the hospital, she had never in her life felt so alone.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Six weeks later, Ryan parked his dusty pickup next to a corral over at Rafe’s place. When he exited the vehicle and started pulling on soiled leather work gloves, his father waved from inside the small enclosure where he, Rafe, and Sly were dehorning a hogtied steer.

  “Looks to me like you’re fixin’ to go to work!” Keefe called. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  “Can’t sit around forever,” Ryan hollered back as he limped toward the fence. “I’m getting damned tired of staring at bare walls. Time to rejoin the world of the living.”

  Keefe strode over to the fence, watching as Ryan struggled to climb up and over the rails. “Still a little sore, I see.”

  “Nothing that won’t get better with use.” Ryan swung down inside the corral to stand beside his dad. “Too pretty a day to be inside, that’s for sure.”

 
Keefe smiled and squinted at the sky. “Nothing like a summer morning to get the blood to perking. Can’t believe it’s damned near August. The snows will come before we know it.”

  Ryan forced a laugh. These days, strained laughter was all he could manage. His heart just wasn’t in it. But that would pass. Bethany’s four younger brothers had tracked down the renegade bear and killed it. The surgery to repair the damage to his hip had gone very well, and in time, he’d have only a slight limp as a reminder of that day. As for the mess his life was in, the Kendricks were survivors. In time, the pain would subside.

  Yep. To hell with her. To hell with everything. He’d move on. Eventually her face would blur in his memory, and he’d forget the color of her eyes. In time, he’d stop hurting.

  Time. That was all he needed, a little more time.

  “Your mother says you’re packing up a bunch of stuff to ship to Bethany,” his dad said.

  Ryan’s guts knotted at the sound of her name. “Yeah. That treadmill, the all-terrain wheelchair, and a couple of other things I’ve got no use for. She may as well have them.”

  “Must’ve been hard, reaching that decision. A final step, cutting her out of your life.”

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t want to look at the shit. I figure sending it to her is another step toward healing for me.”

  “Probably wise thinking.” Keefe sighed. “I’m sorry, son. I know you’re hurting.”

  “It hurts to cut out cancer, too.” Ryan hauled in a deep, cleansing breath.

  “That’s mighty harsh,” Keefe said softly.

  “Yea, well, it’s how I feel. I’m well rid of her. For better or worse, that was our bargain. First spot of trouble, and she ran out on me. Without a word, Dad. I damned near died for her. I think she owed me a face-to-face good-bye. Don’t you? At least a note or something. Screw it. I don’t need the aggravation or the heartache. I’ve come through the worst part without her. I’ll get through the rest and be better off in the long run for the loss.”

  “I hear you.” Keefe gazed off at the mountains. His mouth twitched at one corner. “The little bitch.”

  Ryan stiffened. He stared at the ground for a long moment. “I don’t love her anymore,” he said evenly. “But that doesn’t give you license to call her names.”

  Keefe’s eyes started to twinkle, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. “You’re right. It’s the daddy coming out in me. She doesn’t have that coming. I apologize, son.”

  Ryan shrugged. “No skin off my nose, I don’t guess. If it flips your skirt, go for it.”

  Keefe rubbed the back of his fist over his mouth. “Nah. I was out of line. She’s a sweet little thing. Never did anything to warrant any name-calling.”

  “Nope.”

  “Too bad it all came out the way it did.”

  Ryan shrugged again. Keefe watched Rafe and Sly work for a moment, his eyes still twinkling.

  “Take heart, son. You’ll find the right woman someday.”

  “I found her. It didn’t work out. That’s it for me.”

  “You’ll change your mind when you clap eyes on the right girl.”

  “Nope.”

  That was all Ryan said, but the word was a vow.

  “You know, son, not that I’m defendin’ her or anything, but your mother seems to think she had sound reasons. Listening to her, I can damned near believe it myself. Women.” Keefe shook his head. “Sometimes they see things inside out and ass backward, but their hearts are in the right place. They just need a man to get their heads on straight.”

  Ryan shot his father a glare. “Don’t start, Dad. If you’re going to switch sides, keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “I’m not switching sides. I’ll always be on your side. You know that. It’s just—”

  “That Mom’s been working on you?” Ryan finished for him. “I know she feels bad for me and that she hopes I’ll go chasing after her. News bulletin. It ain’t happening. She made her decision. The day I go chasing off to Portland to kiss her ass and beg her to come back, hell will freeze over. End of subject.”

  Rafe finished with the bull. As he shooed the animal into an adjoining pen, he spotted his brother and waved. A moment later Rafe sauntered across the enclosure. “Howdy. You’re lookin’ spry and ready to tangle.”

  Keefe slipped the cigarettes he seldom smoked from his shirt pocket. He tapped out a Winston, his eyes narrowing as he watched his elder son approach. “His mood just took a downward turn. All it takes is sayin’ her name, and he gets prickly as a porcupine.”

  “Uh-oh.” Rafe fixed an amused gaze on Ryan’s scowling face. “He’s probably just feeling better and getting horny. There’s a cure for that, little brother. You can be on her doorstep in less than three hours if you break all the speed limits to get there.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Ryan snatched the pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his dad’s hands. The other two men watched him in stunned surprise as he lit up and inhaled. “Back off.” He handed back the cigarettes and lighter. “Both of you. I don’t need this shit.”

  Rafe chuckled. “He’s hangin’ on by a thread to his willpower when he grabs for smokes. Won’t be long now.”

  Ryan had had enough. “Rafe, you’re my brother, and I love you. But I swear to God, if you don’t shut up, you’re going to eat this cigarette, fire and all. Do I make myself clear?”

  Sly strolled over. He smiled wryly as he opened his can of snuff and tucked a wad of chew inside his bottom lip. “You sound like a grizzly with a sore paw, boy.”

  Ryan took another drag from the cigarette, then tossed it on the ground and smothered it out under his heel. “Let’s get to work,” he said with a snarl.

  “You sure you’re ready for wrestlin’ them steers?” Sly asked. “Next one up is one that slipped past us last year. He’s a big old boy.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Ryan threw the adjoining gate wide to shoo in the next victim, a large black steer with wild-looking eyes. Recently brought in off open range, the critter was nervous around humans and ran a circle around the pen, looking for a bolt hole. Ryan settled his hat back on his head. “Well, boys?” he said to the other three men. “You gonna work or stand around with your thumbs up your asses all day?”

  Everyone sighed as they resumed work. Sly roped the steer in short order. Rafe jumped in to help handle the huge creature, which didn’t take kindly to having a noose around its neck. Nothing out of the ordinary. Half-wild steers never took kindly to being handled.

  Ryan grabbed the dehorner. Because he wasn’t back to full speed yet after his surgery, he meant to stand aside until his brother and the ranch foreman got the steer hogtied. Unfortunately, the steer had other ideas. It lunged, Sly lost his grip on the rope, and the next thing Ryan knew, the huge animal was charging right for him.

  Ryan dropped the dehorner clamp and tried to spring out of the way, but his hip was still weak and it gave under the force of his weight. He staggered and fell. When he tried to scramble back to his feet, he moved too slowly.

  “Ha!” Keefe yelled.

  With growing alarm, Ryan watched his father jump between him and the charging steer. Keefe waved his Stetson to head off the huge animal. The steer lowered its head and just kept coming.

  “Dad!” Ryan hollered. “Get the hell out of the way!”

  Keefe stood his ground.

  In the horrible seconds that followed, Ryan’s brain seemed to assimilate the transpiring events in slow motion. He screamed again for his father to move, scrambling as he did to get out of the way himself. Then it happened. The steer rammed Keefe in the midriff and just kept charging, lifting Ryan’s father off his feet and slamming him violently against the corral fence.

  In reality it all probably took place in less than a second, but to Ryan, it seemed to take forever. The steer bawled and veered away. Keefe crumpled to the ground, his face ashen, his eyes bulging. He grabbed his chest and fought to breathe.

  Sweet Lord. Ryan
crawled to his father’s side. Frantically, he checked for blood, thinking his dad might have been gored. When he found no blood, he could only deduce that maybe his father’s ribs were broken. Keefe was still grabbing futilely for breath. His lips were turning blue.

  Rafe and Sly reached them. Rafe fell to his knees beside Ryan. “Dad? Oh, Jesus. Sweet Jesus. His heart. Dad, is it your heart?” Rafe started fishing in Keefe’s pockets for his nitroglycerin tablets. When he found the small vial, he tapped a tiny pill onto his palm, then stuck it under their father’s tongue. “Try to relax, Dad. Just try to relax.”

  Ryan moved around to put their father’s head on his lap. He imagined Keefe dying. They were so far from town. If the old man was having a heart attack, they’d never get him to a hospital in time. Oh, God. His fault. All his fault. He should never have been in the corral. He knew he wasn’t completely back to normal yet. He had no business putting himself in dangerous situations and forcing the people who loved him to take up the slack. Now his dad had jumped in to protect him and could end up dying.

  Sly kept the steer away from them while they hovered over Keefe. It seemed as if an eternity passed before the older man finally managed to catch his breath, and then he simply lay there for another eternity, replenishing his oxygen.

  “Not my heart,” he grated out. “Just knocked the breath out of me.”

  Relief made Ryan’s bones feel watery. He hung his head and spent a moment grabbing for some much-needed oxygen himself. Damn. Seeing his dad get rammed like that—it had been the most awful moment of his life. Knowing he’d been the cause of it. Thinking his father might die. Ryan never wanted to experience such feelings again. That awful sense of crushing guilt and a clawing fear that had turned his blood to ice.

  When it was all over and Keefe was back on his feet, Ryan was still shaken. He left the corral and went to his truck, unable to stop thinking of how much worse it could have been. The steer might have gored his dad or broken his ribs, puncturing a lung.