Blown Away

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Blown Away Page 14

by Muriel Jensen


  He seemed momentarily off balance, then stiffened again. “So, even though you understand that, your choice was to take up with someone who—”

  “I’m not taking up.” She repeated his words with scornful emphasis. “We’re going to a dance. And I said yes to the invitation before you told me about the baby.”

  He was unimpressed with her explanation. “I apologize if my timing was off,” he observed stiffly. “I can see that your timetable is everything to you. You might want to think about working on loosening up a bit if you really do plan to have a relationship with anyone.”

  This was hopeless, Kara realized. “Maybe that’s been our whole problem. You’re not ready to love me, and I’m not willing to wait. I’ve wasted most of my life on the wrong man, and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

  “Thank you.” He inclined his head. “It’s ego-building to be thought of as a waste of time.”

  Kara didn’t entirely understand what had happened. She’d begun the day feeling guilty about going to the dance with Loren, but now she wished she’d taken out a contract on Cole instead. She’d never known anyone who could fill her with joy one moment and despair the next.

  “I guess this is it,” she said, her voice choked.

  Cole looked at his truck, then back at her. Expecting him to storm away, she was surprised when he came to her and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

  “If you think you might get serious about Loren, let me give you something for comparison.”

  He combed his fingers into her hair, cupped her head in his hand and lowered his mouth to kiss her.

  Kara saw the kiss coming and tried to steel herself against her usual reaction to his touch. She was successful for about two heartbeats, then the rightness of his mouth on hers and the feel of her body pressed into his made her forget why she should fight it.

  At first his mouth and his embrace were angry, then his manner softened, the kiss deepened, and she was lost in the tender power of it.

  One hand stroked down her back, moving to shape a hip, then press her to him. She immediately felt his reaction.

  He dropped his hands from her, and when she looked up at him, she saw that his anger was back.

  “You’re not going to get that from Loren,” he warned. “He’s only passionate about himself. Goodbye, Kara.” Turning from her, he made his way toward his truck.

  Things would have been so much simpler, Kara concluded in despair, if she’d just fallen to the bottom of the Embrace.

  Okay. With a toss of her hair, she shook off the memory of Cole’s kiss. The man had issues to deal with, and until he did, she couldn’t risk getting involved with him.

  Loren might not have any of Cole’s appeal as a man, but Kara was determined to enjoy this date for the simple social outing it was. She picked up her bags, groaned at their weight and headed back into the mall, ignoring the tingle that lingered in her mouth and her hair from Cole’s touch.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NOW THAT HIS PRIDE was decimated by Kara’s date with Loren Ford, Cole had no problem sitting behind the Grannies’ table. It was covered with knitted, crocheted and embroidered crafts, doll clothes, napkins, table covers, and dishcloths with flowers on them. There was also a myriad of baked goods.

  His aunt and her friends had gone off to tour the bazaar together and had promised to return with a corn dog or something to sustain him. Meanwhile, he’d spent a small fortune on their candies and cookies in an attempt to ward off his misery.

  His friend Gehlen appeared, looked over the wares, and asked with apparent sincerity, “You made all this yourself? On stakeouts, no doubt.”

  “Funny,” Cole replied. “You know your mom baked all the cookies.”

  “Yeah. She wouldn’t give me any. Said I had to come and buy them. How long do you have to sit here? This isn’t exactly a high-adventure afternoon.”

  “I promised to help out. How come you don’t have to?”

  Gehlen picked up a plate of brownies and studied it carefully. “Because I’m here with Wanda, and Mom’s thrilled about it. Wanda’s working an hour at the library’s booth.”

  It took a moment for that to sink in. Gehlen and the police department’s favorite dispatcher? “You’re here with Wanda?” Cole asked in disbelief. “You mean…together?”

  Gehlen didn’t seem to understand his surprise. “Yeah. We’ve been out a couple of times. I’m taking her to the Christmas Ball tonight.”

  Cole couldn’t stop staring. “I can’t believe it. You actually…noticed her?”

  “I noticed her a year ago,” Gehlen informed him. “But…you know…” Now he was avoiding Cole’s eyes. “She represents everything I didn’t think I wanted. Two kids. A mortgage. Nine-to-five Monday through Friday, soccer games and ballet lessons on weekends.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  Gehlen shrugged and handed him three dollars for the brownies. “A lot of things. But mostly I remember the day we rescued your pretty music teacher and she gave you that kiss.”

  “That was rescue exuberance,” Cole said.

  Shaking his head, Gehlen looked straight at Cole. “Partly, but I think it was more than that. I remember that when she looked in your eyes, it was as though she’d found just what she’d been searching for. As if you represented all kinds of possibilities. I wanted somebody to look at me like that…. You still seeing her?”

  Cole put out another plate of brownies to replace the one his friend had bought. “She’s going to the ball tonight with Loren Ford,” he said.

  Gehlen’s mouth fell open. “You must have really offended her to make her do that.”

  Cole stood, desperately needing to stretch. “I don’t know. I’m not moving fast enough for her, I think.”

  “But it’s only been…what? Two weeks?”

  “Yeah. But there’s been something right about it from the beginning. Something that compressed time and connected us from the minute you dropped her into my arms from that tree.”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “I felt like that once before, and it still went bad.”

  “But it’s like that with most things in life—and especially in our line of work. There’s always a risk of something going wrong. It doesn’t matter how many hooks and locks you have in place, something can malfunction, a rock can move…you can fall.”

  “But, we’re trained to move carefully to protect ourselves and anyone else on our line from that happening.”

  “Yes. But if you waited until the outcome was one hundred percent secure, you’d never make the climb.”

  “Cole!” A boy’s voice filled the sudden silence, and Cole looked up to see Taylor, Blaine and Finlay Kirk, Taylor’s neighbor, approaching the booth.

  “Fudge!” Blaine shouted, picking up a plateful of pale, creamy-looking squares filled with nuts. “Is it peanut butter?”

  “It’s penuche,” Finlay replied. “My grandmother made it. It’s yum.”

  Gehlen offered Cole a parting handshake. “You’re the only non-climber I’d ever go climbing with,” he said, “because you’re smart and you never think just of yourself. You always look at the whole picture. She needs to know that.”

  “Who?” Taylor asked while Blaine and Finlay pooled their money to buy the plate of fudge.

  Cole introduced Taylor to Gehlen. “This is Kara’s son, Taylor. And his friends Blaine and Finlay.”

  “Ah.” Gehlen shook hands all around. Finlay, apparently one of the boys despite a very feminine red-and-white Christmas sweater, shook his hand as well.

  “We’re talking about your mom,” Cole said as he waved Gehlen off. “She has to know how good Aunt Shirley’s fudge is.”

  “When are we coming over again?” Taylor asked, sampling a piece of fudge from the plate his friends had already unwrapped.

  “Uh…I’m not sure,” Cole replied carefully. “You’ll have to ask your mom. Sounds like she’s pretty busy.”

  “Did yo
u get a topper for the tree?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’m supposed to put it on, right?”

  He’d promised. However things worked out between Kara and him, he had to make that happen.

  “Sure. You can ask your mom about it, and if she’s too busy to come over, I’ll come pick you up.”

  Taylor studied him suspiciously. “Are you mad at Mom ’cause she’s going to a party with Mr. Ford? You guys are supposed to be friends.”

  “Of course we’re friends, just like you and I are friends,” Cole assured him. “And Mel’s your friend. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

  The last thing Cole wanted to do was upset Taylor. The poor kid had had enough lies told to him about his father. Somehow Cole had to make sure that whatever went on between him and Kara, Taylor wouldn’t be hurt.

  SHIRLEY AND HER FRIENDS returned, fussing over Taylor and his companions and forcing more fudge on them, free of charge.

  Cole was about to leave when Brad appeared without Emily or the baby.

  “Emily and some of her new-mother friends went shopping,” he explained. “Then they’re going out to dinner, watching chick flicks at somebody’s house, and comparing babies. I think the plot is to leave their husbands free to shop for them. You and Kara going to the ball?”

  “She’s going with Mr. Ford,” Taylor piped up.

  Brad looked questioningly at Cole. “Mr. Ford?” Then he seemed to realize who he meant. “Oh, not Loren Ford?” he groaned.

  “Don’t you like him?” Taylor asked.

  Cole frowned at his brother.

  “Oh, sure,” Brad said, giving an apologetic shrug. Then he turned to Cole. “What happened?”

  “She got in a blue snit.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “It’s a long story. If you’re a bachelor tonight, you want to have dinner? There’s a movie at the Cineplex that has cops and doctors in it. There should be a lot to criticize.”

  “Sure. When?”

  “Six-thirty? I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay.”

  Cole headed for the games booths at the other end of the field, only to discover that he was being followed by Taylor and his friends.

  “Don’t you guys have things to do?” he asked.

  Taylor shook his head. “Not till tonight. Blaine is having a sleepover for his birthday. Finlay can’t come ’cause she’s a girl. So me and Blaine are trying to win her a doll at the shooting booth, but you gotta hit six bull’s-eyes and we can’t do it. Can you try?”

  Cole was grumpy and morose, and the last thing he wanted to do was shoot a gun—even an air gun. But the boys were being thoughtful, so how could he refuse.

  “Okay. I’ll give it a try. Where’s the booth?”

  He had the doll in six shots. Finlay jumped up and down screaming her delight, and the boys high-fived each other as though they’d won it. The man tending the booth handed over a large doll with lots of long dark hair and petticoat-puffed calico. Finlay beamed—so much for her being one of the boys—and wrapped an arm around Cole.

  “Thank you, Cole!” she said, hugging the doll to her. “I can’t believe you did it. I got the doll!”

  At least one person had gotten what they wanted, Cole thought.

  “I have to go show my mom!” she said. “She’s working at the Methodist Church booth.”

  “You guys better go with her,” Cole said as she raced off. “She shouldn’t be running around alone.”

  “Thanks, Cole.” Taylor smiled with sincere gratitude. “She’s pretty cool for a girl.”

  “I noticed that.” Cole watched until the boys caught up with her, then decided he’d had enough Christmas cheer and headed for his truck, and home.

  KARA WRAPPED PRESENTS until she was sure she’d used every scrap of paper and every inch of ribbon in the county. Several of her students worked beside her, wrapping in spurts between hanging out with friends, running to other booths for food, taking cell phone calls from friends, then running for more food.

  She looked up at one point when she heard a familiar voice and saw her son and his two best friends dancing along beside Cole, obviously headed for the game booths. For several hours, Cole’s behavior had managed to completely submerge her earlier regrets at having hurt him, but now her guilt returned with a vengeance.

  She watched him smile at something Taylor said, saw her son laugh in response, and found herself wishing she could begin the day over again. There was a giant black hole in the middle of her being, where only two days ago there’d been happiness and hope for her future. And Taylor’s.

  Cole and the children disappeared in the crowd, and she returned to her wrapping. She was putting a very large bow on a giant, misshapen package that contained a stuffed gorilla when she heard Taylor’s voice again. She looked up to see Finlay hugging a large doll and jumping up and down in excitement. Finlay wrapped her arms around Cole and he hugged her lightly in return.

  Even in the middle of her divorce proceedings, Kara hadn’t felt this depressed. She told herself there was no point feeling bad about the way she and Cole had parted. It didn’t change the fact that their goals would never have come together, with or without the issue of Loren.

  She watched Finlay run off and saw Cole motion the boys to follow her, a warm expression on his face.

  But once the children were out of sight, Cole looked around grimly. Instead of coming back to the bazaar, he dug keys out of his pocket and headed for the parking lot.

  The need to intercept him was so powerful, she would have done it—if the owner of the misshapen package hadn’t appeared with a crisp five-dollar bill, forcing her to make change.

  WHEN KARA WAS WRONG, she was spectacularly wrong, and thinking she might actually enjoy a social evening with Loren was sure to rate right up there with her worst misjudgments.

  The setting for the Christmas Ball was perfect. The lobby of City Hall was festooned with fresh evergreen garlands decorated with gold ball ornaments and twinkle lights. Her chorus sang like angels, and the holiday music played by a local band was a fun mix of traditional and more modern tunes.

  Kara saw many couples she knew from school, and enjoyed conversations with them while Loren made a few obligatory rounds on the dance floor with members of his staff and the local school board. The champagne and hors d’oeuvres were elegant and delicious.

  The only thing wrong with the evening was her assumption that it would be fun to go out with Loren. Even with her track record, she couldn’t believe how mistaken she’d been.

  During the drive to the hall and the first hour of dancing, he’d talked nonstop about his career plans.

  That would have been all right, except that she soon noticed his goals had nothing to do with the students’ welfare and everything to do with the advancement of a future political career.

  “I can’t accomplish what I want in a little place like Courage Bay,” he’d said when explaining that his first step was to obtain a superintendent’s position. “I have to go to a bigger city where there are more students, a larger budget.”

  At first Kara had been surprised to hear that. She’d always thought Loren cared about the students at C.B. Junior High. But as he kept talking, she realized that he was more interested in the students performing well because that would be a positive reflection on his administrative skills.

  By nine o’clock she was ready to go home. But as she reminded herself, she’d chosen to do this and she had to see it through graciously. Maybe if she took firm hold of the conversation, Loren would have to listen to her for a change.

  “I’m so happy that Taylor is finally making friends,” she said as Loren led her onto the dance floor for a slow number. “I was so worried about him last year, but now…”

  Loren put a silencing finger to her lips. “No talk about children tonight, all right?” he said with smiling good-humor. “I deal with them all day long, and now that I finally have you all to myself, I don’t want to talk ab
out kids or work.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d heard him correctly. “Loren, my work and my son are my life.”

  He nodded. “I know that, and I intend to do something about it if you’ll let me. I’ve seen too many mothers—single and married—become overly involved with their children’s lives. Our parents didn’t spend half as much time fussing about us, and I think we turned out just fine.” He gave her a smug look.

  “What?” she demanded.

  When she stopped dancing, he tried to drag her along while glancing around to make sure no one had noticed them. “Kara, you’re making a scene,” he cautioned under his breath.

  “‘Fussing’!” she exclaimed. “Is that what you call parental involvement? What about all the studies that show a child’s performance in school can be directly linked to—”

  “I know, I know.” He caught both her arms and forced her into a dance position again, smiling at the other couples twirling by who were starting to stare. “I was talking about overinvolvement. Come on, Kara. Why are you acting like this? It’s not doing either of us much good to be seen calling attention to ourselves at a public gathering.”

  What he really meant was that the head of the school board and his wife were watching.

  She smiled politely at him for their benefit. “Loren, I have a headache. I’d like to go home now.”

  “Kara…” he said in exasperation.

  She took a step backward and walked off the dance floor. He followed.

  “Fine. I’ll take you home.” He found her coat and held it open for her. “But we’ll stop on the way for a late dinner, so you can explain to me what’s happened here. I mean, it was a beautiful evening and suddenly…poof! You explode.”

  Poof? she thought. It had been more like blam!

  Of course, Loren probably had had a beautiful evening listening to himself, Kara realized.

  When he pulled into an all-night coffee spot on the highway, famous for its all-you-can-eat ribs on Saturday night, she began to wonder if he was completely clueless. How could anyone have a heart-to-heart discussion in a place packed with every barbecue-lover in the county? But she said nothing.

 

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