The parents in the stands went wild, including Kate. She threw her arms around David. “Did you see that? Did you see how Davey’s pass went straight into that boy’s arms? What a pass!”
“Give the receiver a little credit,” David teased.
“Well, sure, but it was Davey who got the ball down there. The ball didn’t even wobble. What an arm!” she said, echoing the praise she’d heard around her.
David’s tolerant smile finally penetrated her exuberance.
“Sorry,” she apologized.
“For what?” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Do you have any idea what it does to me to share this with you?”
Kate felt the salty sting of tears in her eyes and tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her.
“We were meant to be like this,” he insisted. “You and me and Davey. We could be a real family, Kate.”
A family. The words seemed to echo in her heart. Oh, how she wanted that. But she refused to allow herself to hope. Before she could utter a denial, Davey came racing toward them. He was caught up in his father’s hug.
“You were terrific, son.”
“Thanks, Dad. Did you see, Kate? That pass was the longest one I’ve ever thrown. Ever!”
She smiled at his excitement. “I’m really glad I was here to see it.”
“I think a celebration is in order,” David said, his gaze on Kate, pleading with her not to spoil things for Davey.
Because she wanted one last memory to tuck away with all the rest, she nodded slowly. “A celebration sounds terrific.”
But Davey, it seemed, had his own plans for celebrating with his friends. David didn’t seem nearly as surprised by that information as he might have been.
“I guess it’s just you and me, then,” he said, linking Kate’s arm through his as Davey ran off to join his friends. “My place? We can raid the refrigerator.”
He made it sound so incredibly casual and spontaneous that Kate couldn’t find the words to refuse. “Sure,” she said finally. “I’ll follow you.”
“Why not ride with me and I’ll bring you back to your car later?”
Which would effectively strand her at his house until he had used every bit of persuasion at his disposal to convince her that they had a future, she thought. No, thanks! She smiled. “I think I’ll drive.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll meet you there, then.”
Kate followed him up the winding narrow road into Bel Air. By the time they reached the house, the lights of Los Angeles were spread out below as if stardust had been sprinkled on the valley floor. At the house David poured them each a glass of wine and led the way onto the terrace so they could take full advantage of the view. The awareness sizzling between them was almost palpable.
“I’m glad you came,” David said quietly.
“I didn’t want to disappoint Davey,” she said.
“I’m not talking about the game, Kate,” he said with a touch of impatience. “I’m talking about here. Did you not want to disappoint me, as well?”
She sighed. “I’m not exactly sure why I came. I should have known that sooner or later you’d force us back into the same conversation.”
David slowly put his glass aside and with his gaze locked with hers, he took her glass and set it on the table. “No conversation, Kate.”
Kate’s heart thumped unsteadily as he pulled her into his arms. Damn it all to hell, she didn’t even try to resist. She went willingly, yearning for the feel of his body pressed into hers, hungering for his lips to plunder hers. With a little cry that was part pleasure, part dismay, she opened her mouth to the invasion of his tongue. The fantasy world spread out below them seemed to reach up to draw them in.
This, Kate told herself, this was what she was giving up. She could feel David’s heart thundering beneath her palm, the scratch of his faintly stubbled skin against her cheek, the hardness of his manhood pressed against her. Each sensation was distinct and separate. Each blended into a thrilling swirl of desire that swept through her and left her dazed with need.
Why couldn’t she just accept this moment? Why couldn’t she take whatever part of David’s heart he had left to give and be satisfied?
Because she’d seen what he was capable of giving, she admitted finally. And she wanted it all, wanted the full power of his love and attention. She couldn’t share it with a ghost.
“No,” she said, far too late, when her body was crying out for satisfaction. “David, no.”
His jaw clenched with anger, he stepped away. He picked up his glass, finished the wine in one gulp, then drank what was left of hers. Only then did he allow his gaze to clash with hers. Kate shuddered at the hot fury in his eyes.
“Why?” he bit out.
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Dammit, I am not referring to sex. I’m talking about us.”
“There is no us.”
“Then I’ll ask one more time, why?”
For Kate the answer was simple. One word. “Alicia.”
He regarded her incredulously. “Kate, for God’s sake, Alicia is dead.”
“But you haven’t stopped grieving for her. If I doubted that before, your reaction just now to the mention of her name was proof that it’s the truth.”
David shoved his hand through his hair and began to pace, leaving Kate to stand alone in the chill air, shivering. Finally, when he turned to face her again, his expression was anguished.
“No,” he corrected softly. “It’s not grief. It’s a lot of things, Kate, but not grief.”
Stunned by the note of despair in his voice, she stared at him incredulously. “But what, then?”
“Guilt. Anger, maybe.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was glad when she died, Kate,” he said, looking heartbroken by the admission. “Glad! What kind of creature does that make me? What kind of father could I be when I wanted my son’s mother to die? I wanted to see her suffering over with. I wanted desperately for things to get back to normal.”
A sigh shuddered through him. “Only when she was gone did I see that they never would be normal again. And that made me angry, at her, at God, at myself. Every single time you attributed me with this noble passion, this gut-deep sorrow, I felt like a fraud.”
She reached out to him, but he shook her off.
“No, let me finish. Don’t get me wrong. I loved her. She was an intelligent, beautiful, gentle, lovely woman. But in the end, she wasn’t even Alicia anymore, and I hated myself for feeling that way.”
“Oh, David,” Kate said, her voice catching. “I’m so sorry.”
He regarded her with a wry expression. “So, you see, I’m not at all the man you thought I was.”
“Yes,” she said firmly, “you are. What do you think grief is? It is anger and pain and a sense of loss and maybe even some guilt all rolled into one shattering emotion. Do you think you are the only person ever to be glad to see an end to a loved one’s suffering? Do you think you are the only man ever to feel anger and resentment at being left alone?”
She touched his cheek, and this time he didn’t withdraw. “But you will work your way through those emotions in time. I can promise you that. Just by admitting the feelings to me tonight, I think you’re already well on your way.”
“Am I asking too much if I ask you to go through this with me? I need you, Kate.”
Need, not love, she thought dismally. “I will always be your friend,” she said, because it was all she could say without showing the depth of her vulnerability. “I’m going now, but we’ll talk soon.”
“What about dinner?”
She shrugged. “I think food is the last thing either of us has on our minds.”
She stood on tiptoe then, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. As she turned and walked away, she wondered when or if she would ever share a kiss with him again.
Chapter Fifteen
The bed trembled as if it were being shaken by an ill-tempered giant, jarring Kat
e awake, her heart thundering in her chest.
An earthquake! A huge one, if the rolling motion of the room was any indication. Her equilibrium went off kilter, rendering her almost as nauseous as if she’d been on the deck of a boat caught in an ocean’s swells.
When she could move, she raced for a doorway and braced herself against the building’s terrifying sway that had light fixtures swinging back and forth from the ceiling. Outside she could see the frantic to-and-fro movement of light poles, heard the crackle and fiery pop of a transformer before the street was plunged into darkness.
All her life she had lived with the frightening threat of earthquakes, had accepted it as part of the price for living in LA. Earthquakes were among the few things in life absolutely beyond her control. She tried to be prepared and left it at that.
Over the years she had experienced scary tremors and mild aftershocks with minimal psychological scars. She knew this terrible creaking and rocking would end, but when it did, what would be left?
This one seemed to be going on longer than usual, its force more powerful than any she could recall from recent years. She knew it had to be centered far closer than the strong quakes that had hit the desert the previous summer, nearly a hundred miles away and still terrifying.
She heard the doors on her kitchen cabinets open and slam, open and slam, followed by the breaking of glass.
With her adrenaline pumping by the time the awesome quaking stopped, she found slippers, then inched her way carefully to the kitchen, where she kept earthquake supplies. She turned on a battery-powered light, then the battery-powered radio.
“A quake estimated to be at least seven point five or greater on the Richter scale has just shaken downtown Los Angeles. Reports from Cal State indicate the quake was centered in West Hollywood. Our studios on Sunset have cracks in the walls. Studio windows popped out. We can see from here that glass is out in some downtown office buildings. Several residents in the Beverly Hills and Bel Air area have called to report smelling gas. We have reporters heading into the area now and will be back with full details as they come in. Is this The Big One? Stay tuned.”
Bel Air, Kate thought, stricken. What about David and Davey? Were they okay? Their house sat high on a ridge overlooking a valley. Obviously it had weathered other quakes through the years, but if preliminary reports were talking about gas leaks and shattered glass, this could be far worse than anything it had ever sustained before. On top of the earthquake damage, gas leaks and downed power lines threatened fires.
She grabbed the phone and dialed. Only after she’d punched in the last number did she realize that there had never even been a dial tone. The line was out.
Frantic now, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and scrambled into them. She pulled on thick socks and sneakers, stopped for her kit of emergency supplies and bottled water and hurried into the building’s hallway. It was dark as midnight.
No electricity, no elevator, she thought with dismay. She could make out the generator-powered red light above the doorway to the emergency stairwell and crept along the corridor, wasting precious time but unable to risk moving any faster. At last she reached the door and pushed it open. Using her flashlight to illuminate the stairs, she began making her way down twelve flights to the parking garage below. The trip seemed to take an eternity.
Eventually, though, she reached the car. As she sped up the exit ramp, she heard the distant, terrifying drone of sirens. Lots of sirens. She turned north on Century Park East and then she saw the glow on the horizon. Not in the east where the sun would be breaking through, but northwest. In Bel Air. Where David and Davey were. Her stomach turned over as she considered the danger they were in.
Kate was halfway up the canyon road when she hit the first crevice, a crack sufficiently wide to jar the car. There were two more beyond that, each a little wider, a little more difficult to navigate. Ignoring tire damage and the threat hinted at by the increasing severity of those cracks, she drove on until she found her way blocked by a fallen tree.
All around her she saw families dazed by the quake, standing in their yards gazing at the aftermath. One whole wing of an estate had collapsed. A tree had tumbled on top of three cars in a single bricked driveway. And still, strong aftershocks kept the earth trembling.
Bullhorns warned of potential gas leaks and advised residents to avoid using electricity or candles until utility crews could get into the area. From every yard she could hear the hum of radio reports, updated every few minutes. The announcers, too, listed the hazards that followed earthquakes, reminding listeners of precautions to be taken.
Somewhere above her the warnings were already too late. She could see the glow of a fire, stronger now, feeding on the drought-stricken landscape. The acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils.
Images of David and Davey crowded into her head as she pulled to the side of the road and determinedly set out on foot. Just as she rounded the next bend, a fireman blocked her way.
“Ma’am, you can’t go up there.”
Kate stared at him, uncomprehending. “But I have to,” she said simply and kept walking.
He caught her arm and held her back. “It’s not safe.”
Her gaze clashed with his. “But David is there and his son. I have to find them.”
The fireman, a young man with streaks of soot on his already weary face, regarded her sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that. Wait here. We’re evacuating the people from up there now.”
“But what if they’re injured?” she said, her voice catching on a sob.
“We’ll get them out, ma’am.”
Defeated, Kate walked to the side of the road and sank down on the trunk of an upended tree. Tears cut streaks down her cheeks as she kept her gaze pinned to the road and the straggle of residents making their way down from higher ground.
They had to be all right, she told herself over and over. She couldn’t lose them. Whether they were her real family or not, she loved them as if they were. An image of David swam before her eyes, a teasing I-told-you-so glint in his eyes. She choked back a sob. He would come to her eventually, if only to say those words, if only to taunt her for taking so blasted long to admit something he had accepted weeks ago.
Family, she thought as the smoke seemed to surround her. Dear Lord, she hadn’t given a thought to her mother and Brandon or to Ellen and her family. Chances were good, given the preliminary estimate of the quake’s epicenter, that they’d received no more than the same awakening jolt she had. Still, she had to check. She thought, belatedly, of her car phone.
Reluctant to leave where she was, she realized that she had no real choice anyway. The smoke was becoming more dense by the minute, and she could see by the expression on the fireman’s face that at any second he was going to insist that she move farther out of the path of danger.
She trudged back down the winding road until she reached her car. She tried first to call David, but there was no answer at the house. Because he was already moving out of harm’s way, she told herself firmly. Even though she wanted with all her heart to believe that, she couldn’t help envisioning him pinned under a fallen beam or trapped on the far side of the fire.
Trembling with the agony of waiting, she dialed her mother’s house. “Mom?” she said and then her voice broke.
“Kate, darling, are you okay? I’ve been calling and calling, but your damned phone isn’t working.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. As soon as it happened, I saw that there was a fire over in Bel Air.”
“And you started worrying about David?” her mother guessed. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said bleakly. “I can’t get all the way up to the house. The fire’s getting worse. It’s driving me crazy. I don’t like sitting on the sidelines and waiting this way. I want to do something.”
“Charging to the rescue,” her mother said, and Kate could practically see her smile. “Oh, Katie, darling, you can’t save the world
.”
“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But I’ve given it a damned good shot.” She hesitated. “Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“I think I’m ready to think about saving myself.”
“Is that your way of saying you’ve fallen in love with David Winthrop?”
Kate laughed. “Yes, I guess it is.” It was such an overwhelming relief to be able to speak the words aloud. “I love David Winthrop.”
Suddenly she heard someone pounding on the window of the car and looked up to see David, sooty and rumpled, but very much alive. He was grinning at her and she knew that he’d heard, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore that she’d put her heart on the line.
“He’s here,” Kate shouted, jubilant. “Mom, I’ll talk to you later, all right?” Then, almost as an afterthought, she said, “You are okay, aren’t you? And Ellen?”
“Everyone is fine, darling. Why don’t you and your young man join us for breakfast? Ellen’s coming, as well, with Penny.”
Her gaze locked with David’s, Kate barely mumbled an affirmative response before hanging up and springing out of the car.
“You’re okay?” she asked when she was wrapped tightly in his embrace. She touched his cheeks, his forehead, his shoulders as if to make sure.
“Keep that up and we’re going to cause quite a scene,” he taunted lightly.
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Oh, David, I was so worried about you. When I thought I might never see you again, I wanted to die.”
He touched her lips with a finger. “Don’t ever, ever say that.” He held her even more tightly, his own expression mirroring her relief. “I went nuts when I couldn’t reach you. Davey even had the car phone number and we tried calling that.” He gave her a quelling look. “Even though I knew only a damn fool would be out traipsing around at six in the morning after an earthquake.”
She ignored the criticism. “Davey’s okay?”
“He’s over there with a fireman. What do you think?”
She glanced across the road and saw Davey asking questions of the fireman at a clip that had put a smile on that exhausted face. Her heart filled to overflowing.
Kate's Vow (Vows) Page 17