Dreams for Stones

by Ann Warner

  “What a wonderful room.” Awe made her voice slightly hoarse. “Do you ever get enough of it, or this view?”

  “We’ve only been here ten years,” Robert said. “But we’re not tired of it yet.”

  “But. . . ” Kathy stopped because what she’d been about to say—that it was odd for someone to start ranching when they were middle-aged—would have been rude.

  “Oh, we had a ranch before,” Stella said, joining them and accurately interpreting Kathy’s hesitation.

  “Yep. Out east of Denver,” Robert said. “Likely you’ve been there. They call it Denver International now.”

  Kathy cocked her head, thinking about it. “That must have been difficult.”

  “Yep.” Robert chuckled. “Real hard leaving a thousand acres of dry scrub to come here.”

  Stella sat next to Robert, and Kathy found herself the focus of the senior Francinis’ friendly attention. But that was okay. They were pleasant people, and unlike Alan, she’d warmed to them both immediately. Well she’d warmed to Alan too. It had just taken longer.

  “Have you been riding long?” Stella asked.

  Kathy shook her head. “This is only my third time.” If falling off Peaches twice counted as one time.

  “Oh my. Well you should feel real honored. Alan doesn’t allow just anyone on that filly. She’s his pride and joy.”

  Kathy glanced at Alan, who leaned over to pet Cormac. Parents. They seemed to have an ingrained universal ability to embarrass their offspring without even trying. But Alan threw the assumption he was embarrassed into question by glancing up at Kathy and winking.

  Completely unexpected, and if he only knew it, devastating.

  “I forgot to ask when you called. Who recommended us?” Stella said.

  With a start, Kathy refocused. “Oh, my pencil did.”

  She grinned at the look on Stella’s face. “You know, I opened the phone book, closed my eyes and. . . ”

  Stella’s face cleared. “See, Rob. I told you a big ad would pay off.”

  “What made you decide to take riding lessons?” Robert asked.

  Kathy glanced at Alan, trying to catch his eye, tempted to wink if she did. “I needed to know something about horses for a novel I’m writing.”

  “Oh, you’re an author,” Stella said. “Did you know Alan is an English professor?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do know that. I’ll be teaching a course at DSU in the spring.”

  “You’re a professor, too?” Robert asked.

  “It’s only a temporary gig. Actually, I’m an editor. At Calico Cat Books.”

  Stella frowned with her finger over her lips. “That name. It seems familiar. Oh, I know. That’s the publisher that does those bilingual books. We bought our grandson one.”

  “Which one did you get?” Kathy was puzzled. Didn’t Stella say the baby born a week ago was their first grandchild?

  “The story about the little boy and girl rescuing the grasshopper with the help of the dragonfly.”

  “That’s one of my favorites.” Kathy pictured Jade working the Japanese characters for danger, courage, and sanctuary into the illustrations. “But I love all our IchiMichis.”

  “IchiMichi. What language is that?” Alan asked.

  “Japanese. Actually, IchiMichi is our pet name for them. They’re stories about a brother and sister, Ichiro and Michiko.”

  “And they’re beautifully done,” Stella said, turning to Alan. “You’ll have to ask Elaine to show it to you the next time you’re over there. They’re mostly in English, but they also have Japanese characters and Japanese words.” She turned back to Kathy. “Alan has quite a collection of children’s books, himself. We should have guessed he was going to be an English teacher, what with all the reading he did when he was growing up.”

  “And look who’s buying a one-week-old baby books already.” Alan was obviously teasing his mother.

  Kathy was relieved. She must have completely misread the situation in the kitchen.

  “So, does your family live here in Denver, Kathy?” Robert said, swinging his legs onto the ottoman and leaning back.

  “No. They live in Ohio. Dayton. My dad’s in the Air Force. But I was born in Denver. That’s why I decided to move here, to see what it’s like.”

  “And what do you think?” Stella said.

  “I love it.” So much, I traded a fiancé for it. Not that she’d say that out loud, although it would be interesting to see their reaction. And what did that amusement say about her recovery? That it appeared to be progressing?

  Later, when Alan walked her back to the kitchen to retrieve her coat, she handed him a check.

  He frowned. “What’s this?”

  “For the lessons.”

  “I coerced you into it. I can’t require you to pay for it as well.” He handed the check back.

  She refused to take it. “I don’t feel right about it.”

  He shrugged, tore the check in two. “So, take me out to dinner again. Friday would work for me.”

  This was getting to be more than she’d bargained for. Riding and dining. Time to call a halt.

  “All right,” she said.

  ~ ~ ~

  “You better explain one more time.” Jade hooked a length of black hair behind her ear. “You need me to help you pick out a special dress, because the character in your novel needs a dress. And then you bring me here?”

  Kathy frowned in concentration as she sorted through the rack of dresses in the vintage dress shop she’d picked out of the yellow pages. Amanda again. First she’d pushed Kathy to learn to ride. But was that enough? Not for Amanda, who had decided she needed a fancy dress for. . . something and, naturally, it couldn’t be just any fancy dress.

  Darn Amanda, anyway. But what was Kathy after all, an author or a mouse? She could just tell Amanda, no dress. Deal with it. Instead, here she and Jade were, giving up their lunch hour to stir up rose-scented, hundred-year-old dust.

  “Kathy, these aren’t dresses.” Jade flipped through a second rack. “They’re rags.” She sneezed, and Kathy’s nose tickled.

  “No, they’re not. They’re living history. Well at least some of them are.” And working to repair and alter the right dress might be kind of fun at that.

  She turned back to her rack and pulled out the burgundy velvet that had caught her eye. “Look at this one.” She held it against her waist, smoothing her hand across the soft fabric.

  Jade frowned, then nodded. “I like the color. It shouldn’t work with your hair, but somehow it does.” She reached out and fingered the torn lace collar. “But it has a problem.”

  “It might look even better without the collar.” Kathy already knew if the fit was even close, she was going to buy the dress, although it was an extravagance, and she was never extravagant. But the sensuous feel of the heavy, wine-colored velvet was simply too wonderful to walk away from.

  “What if you can’t fix it? Then you’ve wasted your money,” Jade said, striking an uncharacteristic frugal note.

  Regardless of Amanda instigating it, if Kathy didn’t buy the dress, she knew she’d regret it, and that was one of the things she’d decided since getting back from San Francisco. She was going to do everything she could to limit her regrets.

  ~ ~ ~

  In the weeks since Kathy’s first visit to TapDancer, Grace, finally acceding to pressure from Delia and Kathy, had begun riding, and Kathy and Grace now took turns driving to the ranch for their weekly ride any Saturday the weather was decent.

  Since it was Grace’s turn to drive today, Kathy parked her car in front of the Garibaldis’ house and joined Grace and Delia in the minivan.

  As Grace navigated through Denver traffic, Kathy chatted with Delia, asking her about kindergarten, and getting a detailed report. Once they were on the highway, Kathy told Grace her news. “We got two illustrations for Verde Mountains back. If you stop by sometime this week, you can see them.”

  Grace’s mouth widened in a huge gr
in. She gave Kathy a quick glance. “Are they okay, do you think?”

  “More than okay. We were lucky with the illustrator we picked. We got someone just starting out, but I think she’s terrific.”

  “Just like me. I mean, just starting out.”

  “And terrific. Don’t forget that part,” Kathy said, laughing at Grace’s transparent joy.

  “It’s all so exciting. You can’t imagine. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it. Don’t I, niñita?” Grace looked at Delia in the rearview mirror, and Delia nodded her head vigorously.

  Kathy knew if Grace hadn’t been driving, she and Delia would have been doing a happy dance—Grace’s excitement was that obvious.

  “Even though the illustrator is working fast, we don’t think we can get it out by Christmas, but in the spring for sure.”

  Grace took a deep breath and let it out, shaking her head. “Can you believe it, querida? If I hadn’t met Alan, and you hadn’t decided to take riding lessons and picked TapDancer, none of this would be happening.”

  “But don’t forget. When Alan pushed us together and ordered us to talk, I didn’t want to, because I was in a snit over how he acted the first time we met.”

  “And if you’d done that, we wouldn’t be amigas. Interesante. Strange how things happen. All those little cosas having to come together perfectly, so everything works out.”

  “Yep. We’ve been victims of one of the mysteries of the universe,” Kathy said. “By the way, you don’t happen to have any more stories just lying around?”

  “As a matter of fact, I think I have one or two. What do you think, nena?” Grace asked Delia. “The one about the coquis and the coffee plantation or the one about the lizards that live on the beach?”

  Delia clapped her hands. “The lizards.”

  “Coquis?” Kathy said.

  “Tiny Puerto Rican frogs.”

  “Why not bring along copies of both when you come to look at the illustrations?”

  Grace nodded her head solemnly. “I can certainly do that.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Kathy pushed her chair back, feeling satisfied at how well the evening’s writing session had gone. Actually, lately they were all going well. She’d finished a short story about the dancing horses, and she was steadily adding to her novel—at least four pages a night was her goal.

  And she’d met that goal easily for the past—well, pretty much ever since she started spending time with Alan Francini.

  Not that there was any cause and effect to that.

  ~ ~ ~

  Right before Christmas, Grenville delivered a copy of the departmental committee’s decision on Alan’s request for promotion and tenure. “A real sticky wicket for us, old chap,” Grenville said, rolling and tapping the letter on the desk. “These decisions often are, but this was one of the most difficult I’ve been involved in.”

  Alan sat back, putting his hands behind his head, pretending a calm he was far from feeling.

  “No sense leaving you hanging. We approved your request for tenure but without promotion.” Grenville handed over the letter. “Hilstrom might dig her heels in, but given the fact your initial appointment didn’t make writing fiction a requirement, I expect she’ll send this up the chain with a positive recommendation.”

  It was a blow, not being recommended for promotion, but Alan could see it was a compromise position on the part of the committee.

  He still couldn’t count on getting tenure, but for the first time since his initial meeting with Hilstrom, he felt optimistic about his chances.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kathy entered the terminal in Dayton, to find her parents waiting for her.

  “Oh, Kathy. Oh, it’s so good to see you.” Her mother pulled her into a long hug, then stood back, still holding Kathy by the arms. “Just look at you.” She shook her head, smiling. “You look wonderful.”

  “Hey, it’s my turn,” her dad said, throwing his arms around her.

  They walked together to baggage claim, where Kathy and her mom remained to collect the luggage while her dad went to get the car.

  “I know one of these days, you’re not going to be able to come home for Christmas, but I’m so glad you made it this year.”

  Kathy felt a spurt of alarm at her mother’s somber tone. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. No. Of course not. It’s just. . . I really wanted to see you, to know for sure you’re okay. You are okay, aren’t you?”

  Kathy nodded and met her mother’s worried eyes. “He wasn’t the right one, Mom. Better I found out before I married him instead of after.”

  Her mother gave her a steady look, which Kathy concentrated on returning.

  “Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. I hated to know you were hurting.” Her mother blinked rapidly, then swiped at her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” Kathy repeated. “Really. I’m fine. It did hurt for a while. Maybe my pride is still a little sore. But I’m fine.”

  Although it wasn’t yet completely true, it was what her mom needed to hear. She’d lost her first husband in an accident when Kathy was two, and it wasn’t until Kathy was five that her mom married Colonel Matthew Jamison. Matt was also widowed and raising a son, Matt Jr.

  In one fell swoop, Kathy had gained a father and an older brother.

  Matt Jr. was now married, and this year he was spending the holidays with his in-laws. Likely that was another reason her mom was so thrilled to have her home.

  ~ ~ ~

  “What is all this about you taking riding lessons?” her dad said at dinner that first evening.

  “I thought you didn’t like horses,” her mother added. “Didn’t something happen?”

  “Yeah. At Y camp. I kept falling off, and the horse bit me. But the TapDancer horses are completely different. They’re really easy to ride. And they don’t bite.”

  “And the son of the owners is the one teaching you?” her mom said.

  Kathy knew where that was going. “Yep. Early thirties, single, good-looking.”

  “Ranching’s a rough life,” her dad said, shaking his head.

  Kathy ate her dinner, smiling to herself, while her parents debated the point. No way was she adding fuel to that particular fire by telling them Alan was a college professor.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t get too hasty here about pairing her up with this guy,” her dad finally said. “She may have no interest in him.” He gave Kathy an interrogatory look that she ignored.

  “Do I get any say in all this?” she asked.

  “Prefer you didn’t,” he growled. “Better to let your mom and me pick someone. I’ve got a couple of decent prospects we could start with while you’re here.”

  Kathy rolled her eyes, and they all laughed.

  It was lovely to sink into the warmth and comfort of her parents’ love, and she enjoyed their gentle teasing. It helped take her mind off the fact that not all that long ago, she and Greg had talked about the possibility of getting married this Christmas—that is before Greg took the San Francisco residency. Before he met Julie.

  On Christmas Eve, Kathy and her parents went to Mass. As the beautiful hymns soared, Kathy found herself blinking back tears. But she always choked up on Christmas Eve.

  After Mass, they exchanged gifts. Kathy smiled as her dad handed her the first package, remembering the year Matt discovered their parents always opened their gifts to each other after Mass while he and Kathy had to wait until the next morning.

  Now that she was older, she could see it had been their special time together as a couple, but she still wasn’t sorry Matt had insisted he and Kathy be included.

  As she had every year since taking the job at Calico, she gave her parents a signed copy of one of the books she had worked on that year. Next year it would be Grace’s book, but this year it was a Russian fairytale.

  Her mother opened the package then looked at her. “Have you ever thought of writing your own book, dear? Dad and I were talking about the stories you sent us when you wer
e in college. We thought they were wonderful.”

  “Maybe I will, someday.” She didn’t want to tell them about Amanda. Not yet. Knowing Amanda, that would jinx it.

  “As long as you think about it, hon.”

  On Christmas Day, they had a big dinner with a number of her father’s command filling out the places at the table. This year the invitees were five men and two women.

  It was a Jamison family tradition, that her dad invite any of his airmen unable to go home for Christmas to have dinner with them.

  When Kathy was in high school, she’d flirted outrageously with the young men, safe in the knowledge none of them would dare ask her out.

  Today, in the midst of the gaiety, somber thoughts of canceled weddings and uncertain plans for the future cast a sudden pall. Feeling unsettled, she attempted to focus on what the young man her father had maneuvered into the seat next to her was saying. He was good-looking, obviously intelligent, clearly interested, and her dad liked him. Unfortunately she couldn't manage even an iota of interest.

  She hadn’t lied to her mother. She was doing better. Just not quite well enough to let something get started with someone new.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alan was sitting in the living room on Christmas Eve, waiting for Charles to arrive, when Elaine came in and, without warning, deposited her son in his arms.

  “Here, little brother,” she said. “About time you and your nephew got better acquainted.”

  Alan considered himself already acquainted. Hadn’t he gone to the hospital when Mark was born? And he’d visited Elaine and Ted at home, well, at least a couple of times since.

  Before he could hand the baby back, or even protest, Elaine was already across the room. “He’s just been fed. All you have to worry about is a little spit-up. If you get desperate, I’ll be in the kitchen helping Mom.”