Almost Home
Page 33
“Kate,” Andy shouted.
“Help me count,” Tony yelled to the crowd. Kate didn’t turn around.
“Kate!” Andy yelled again. “Wait!” The crowd reached the number one and burst into applause as the photographs were revealed. Kate burned, knowing that the real reason everyone was now staring at her lightning-bolt scar was because Andy had won a bet. It was probably how the jerk made all his money—betting on other people’s traumas. How could she have been so naïve? How could she have slept with him? A wave of pain rolled over her as she realized she’d never touch or be touched by him again. She wished she didn’t know. She wanted to go back to their little love nest at the inn, crawl under the covers, and never emerge. At least the door was close; in a few minutes she would be out of here, and with a little luck she’d be able to make her escape before the tears started.
Just as she was reaching for the handle, the door swung, revealing Amanda and Pete.
“Kate,” Amanda said, immediately reading trouble on her best friend’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“What do you care?” Kate asked, trying to push past her. She was in no mood to kiss and make up with anyone now. Amanda reached out and took Kate by the arms.
“I’m so sorry for what I said.” There were definite tears in Amanda’s eyes. “You didn’t kill Jeff,” she said softly. “And he would have been ashamed of me for ever saying so.” A bit of the weight that had crippled Kate moments ago was lifted. She threw herself into Amanda’s arms.
“I loved him,” she said.
“I know,” Amanda said.
“I didn’t mean it,” Kate said. “I didn’t want to break up with him.”
“Shh,” Amanda said, rubbing her back. “He knows that.”
Kate pulled away and looked in Amanda’s eyes. “Do you really think so?”
“Oh, sweetie. I know so. Don’t you?” Kate nodded, afraid her voice would betray her. Amanda looked over Kate again, and tugged on her wrap.
“Why are you wearing that?” Amanda demanded.
“It was symbolic,” Kate said. “I was going to take it off when they revealed the photographs.”
“They’re revealed,” Amanda said, taking Kate by the arm and pulling her toward them.
“No,” Kate said. “It’s all ruined now. You were right. Andy’s a con artist. He makes all his money gambling and—”
Amanda’s laughter ripped through Kate’s revelation.
“Andy doesn’t have any money,” she said. “He definitely fits the profile for starving artist. Although from the look of these photographs, he may not stay that way for long.”
“What do you mean starving?” Kate said, refusing to look at the images that were fascinating everyone around her, including Amanda and Pete. Kate couldn’t help but be curious and a little bit proud as she took in the expressions of those around her. It was obvious they were captivated by the images.
“What about the house?” Kate said. “The yacht?”
“They belong to another rich asshole,” Amanda said, throwing a look toward Pete, who meekly put up his right hand and waved. “Why aren’t you looking at these?” Amanda asked, leaving Kate’s side to move closer to a photograph. Andy was suddenly behind her; he put his hands around Kate’s waist and turned her toward him.
“It’s not what you think,” he said.
“You weren’t the highest bidder?” Kate asked bitterly.
“I was,” Andy said. “But only to stop drunken jerks from trying to take advantage of you because of a bet.”
“Oh, but it’s all right to take advantage of me because of art? Is that what you’re saying?” Andy swiveled Kate around to the nearest photograph.
“Look,” he said. “Just look.” Kate was about to protest, but the photograph looming in front of her stopped her. It was the one on the golf course. She ran her eyes over the arresting image—her hands thrown up above her head, her hair around her face. The photograph was so beautiful, Kate almost forgot she was looking at herself. It was another woman up there, one who looked as if she’d thrown away all the cares of the world, one who looked almost unearthly in her serenity. Kate looked for her scar or a lightning bolt, but the picture was shot at such an angle that you didn’t even see her scar, and there certainly wasn’t any lightning bolt. Silently, Kate moved from picture to picture. They were all absolutely stunning, Kate lying on the cliff on her side, Kate leaning against the lighthouse, Kate cross-legged with the ice-cream cone. No scar, no lightning bolt.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Andy said. “I thought I wanted the lightning bolt. I thought I wanted the scar. But then, when I went in for that first shot, it hit me. I just wanted you. And I was about to tell you, except there you were, exposed to the world, but instead of looking frightened—something in you had totally opened up. I couldn’t risk losing that expression,” Andy admitted. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I guess that is exploiting you for my art. I guess—”
Kate planted her lips over Andy’s and interrupted him with a kiss worthy enough to draw the evening’s second round of applause.
“Do you forgive me?” Andy asked when she finally pulled away.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Kate said as the last of her emotional burdens slipped off her shoulders like the wraps that used to hide them. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Chapter Seventeen
Martha’s Vineyard. One year later.
The wedding was picture-perfect. Everyone commented on how happy the bride and groom looked, how sweet they were to each other, how madly in love they seemed. Amanda’s smile was more radiant than her dress, which she insisted was wrinkled. The attendance at the wedding was double that of the previous year. Since Amanda and Pete had moved into the Honeymoon House, they’d gotten to know all of the locals and even a handful of terminal tourists, and they wanted all of them to witness their day. Amanda didn’t shed a tear until Kate sung “It Had To Be You.” Andy was the wedding photographer, no small favor considering his book was about to be released and was already up for awards. Amanda couldn’t be happier for the two of them, living the life in Manhattan where Andy was making inroads with the artists’ community and Kate was working administratively for Doctors Without Borders during the day and singing at night. Amanda and Pete had already discussed it: when the two of them got married, they were going to let them have the Honeymoon House for a month.
“May I dance with my beautiful bride?” Pete asked, sweeping Amanda into his arms.
“You may,” Amanda said.
“Can you believe,” Pete said, “people are already asking when we’re going to have kids?”
“The nerve,” Amanda said, kissing Pete’s neck.
“I couldn’t imagine—”
“I can’t wait—”
Pete and Amanda stopped dancing.
“You don’t want kids?” Amanda asked.
“I don’t know,” Pete said. “I mean—not right away, you know?”
“Right, right. But how long is ‘not right away’?”
“Is this a trap?” Pete asked. “Because it feels like a trap.”
“I just don’t understand,” Amanda said. “I thought you liked kids.”
“I like other people’s kids,” Pete said. “I just don’t think I’d like ours.” Pete stopped dancing and dropped his arms. “Oh God,” he said. “That sounded bad, didn’t it?” Amanda, prepared to unleash, caught the stricken look on Pete’s face and just laughed. She pulled him into her arms again.
“Maybe,” she said. “We can adopt.”
“Like Mia Farrow and Woody Allen,” Pete said.
“We,” Amanda said, resuming the dance with her husband, “are never, ever, adopting.”
“It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” Kate and Andy sat on top of the Gay Head Cliffs, watching the sun sink below the horizon. The sky was almost purple. It matched Kate’s hideous plum bridesmaid dress, which, as Amanda predicted last year, Kate had been able to wear ag
ain.
“I can’t believe we’ve only been together a year,” Kate said, snuggling into Andy. “It feels like a lifetime.” Kate felt Andy’s breath on her ear. He kissed her cheek.
“I know what you mean,” Andy said. “Because it feels like I’ve loved you forever.”
Kate looked up and out as Andy pulled her in. The ocean lapped against the shore. A boat horn sounded in the distance. A hawk circled silently above. But none of it matched the music Kate felt within. And in that moment, nobody knew better than Kate Williams did how a few moments of “forever” could last a girl a lifetime.
The Marrying Kind
Debbie Macomber
Chapter One
Could it actually be Katie Kern? Katie, here in a San Francisco bar of all places? It didn’t seem possible. Not after all these years.
Her hips swayed with understated grace and elegance as the sleek, sophisticated woman casually walked toward Jason Ingram’s table. They’d been high school sweethearts in Spokane, Washington, ten years earlier. More than a lifetime ago.
Sweet, gentle Katie. That was what Jason had assumed until that fateful night so long ago. He’d say one thing for her, she’d certainly had him fooled. Then, without warning, without so much as a clue as to who and what she really was, Katie had brutally ripped his heart out and then trampled all over it.
He caught a whiff of her perfume and closed his eyes, trying to identify the scent. Jasmine. Warm and sensual. Seductive. Captivating, like the woman herself. Like Katie.
But it couldn’t be Katie. It just wasn’t possible. Jason sincerely hoped life wouldn’t play such a cruel joke on him. Not now when he was two days away from marrying Elaine Hopkins. Not when it had taken him the better half of these last ten years to forget Katie. It would take much longer to forgive her.
Her back was to him now as she walked past him, making it impossible to identify her for certain.
Jason downed another swallow of beer. His fiancée’s two older brothers sat with him, joking, teasing, doing their best to entertain him and welcome him to the family.
“Don’t feel obligated to attend this potluck Mom’s throwing tonight,” Rich Hopkins said, breaking into Jason’s thoughts.
It demanded every ounce of strength Jason possessed to stop staring at the woman. He wasn’t the only one interested. Every man in the St. Regis cocktail lounge was staring at her, including Rich and Bob. She was stunning, beautiful without knowing it, the same way Katie had once been. She always had been able to take his breath away. But this wasn’t Katie. It couldn’t be. Not now. Please, not now.
“I’d get out of the dinner if I could,” Bob added, reaching for his beer. He was Elaine’s youngest brother and closest to her in age.
Jason watched as the woman approached a table on the other side of the room. The old geezer who occupied it promptly stood and kissed her cheek. Jason frowned.
“It’s entirely up to you,” Rich added. “You’ll meet everyone later at the wedding anyway.”
Wedding. The word cut through his mind like a laser light, slicing into his conscience. He was marrying Elaine, he reminded himself. He loved Elaine. Enough to ask her to spend the rest of his life with him.
Funny, he’d never told his fiancée about Katie. In retrospect he wondered why. Certainly Elaine had a right to know he’d been married once before. Even if it was the briefest marriage on record. By his best estimate, he’d been a married man all of one hour. If it wasn’t so tragic he might have been amused. The wedding ceremony had lasted longer than his marriage.
“You must be exhausted.”
Jason’s attention returned to the two men who’d soon be his brothers-in-law. “The flight wasn’t bad.”
“How long does it take to fly in from the East Coast these days?”
“Five, six hours.” Jason answered absently. He tried not to be obvious about his interest in the woman sitting with the old fart. It wasn’t until she sat down that Jason got a decent look at her.
Dear, sweet heaven, it was Katie.
His heart pounded so hard it felt as if he were in danger of cracking his ribs.
In a matter of seconds, ten long years were wiped away and he was a callow youth all over again. The love he felt for her bubbled up inside him like a Yellowstone geyser. Just as quickly, he was consumed with an anger that threatened to consume him.
There had been a time when he’d loved Katie Kern more than life itself. He’d sacrificed everything for her. He assumed, incorrectly, that she loved him, too. Time had proved otherwise. The minute she faced opposition from her family, she’d turned her back and walked away without a qualm, leaving him to deal with the heartache of not knowing what had happened to her. To them.
“I believe I’ll skip out on the dinner plans,” Jason said, tightening his hand around the frosty beer mug. He deliberately pulled his gaze away from Katie and concentrated on Elaine’s brothers.
“I can’t say that I blame you.”
“Make an early night of it,” Bob suggested, finishing off the last of his beer. “It’s already ten o’clock, your time.”
“Right.” The last thing Jason felt was fatigued. True, he’d spent almost the entire day en route, but he traveled routinely, and time changes generally didn’t bother him.
Rich glanced at his watch and stood. “Bob and I’ll connect with you sometime tomorrow, then.”
“That sounds great,” Jason answered. “My brother’s set to arrive early afternoon.” He could barely wait to tell Steve that he’d seen Katie. His brother was sure to appreciate the irony of the situation. Two days before Jason was to marry, he ran into Katie. God certainly had a sense of humor.
Rich slapped him across the back affectionately. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“You’ve got less than thirty-six hours to celebrate being a bachelor. Don’t waste any time.” Bob chuckled and glanced toward Katie suggestively. He stood and reached for his wallet.
Jason stopped him. “The beer’s on me.”
Both brothers thanked him. “I’ll see you at the rehearsal.”
“Tomorrow,” he echoed, grateful when the two left.
If the woman was indeed Katie, and the possibility looked strong, he had to figure out what he intended to do about it. Nothing, he suspected.
Their marriage, if one could call it that, had been a long time ago. He wasn’t sure she’d even want to see him again. For that matter, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see Katie, either. She was a reminder of a painful time that he’d prefer to forget.
The cocktail waitress delivered Katie and her date’s order. While still in high school, Katie had refused to drink alcoholic beverages. Her aversion apparently hadn’t followed her into adulthood.
“Can I get you anything else?” the cocktail waitress asked as she approached his table.
“Nothing, thanks.”
She handed him the tab and he signed his name and room number, leaving her a generous tip.
He toyed briefly with the idea of casually walking over and renewing his acquaintance with Katie. That would be the civilized thing to do. But Jason doubted that he could have pulled it off. He was angry, damn it, and he had every right to be. She’d been his wife and she’d deserted him, abandoned him and all their dreams.
Her family had openly disapproved of him when they’d first started dating at the end of their junior year. He’d never completely understood why. He suspected it wasn’t him personally that they objected to, but any involvement Katie might have with someone of the opposite sex. Someone not handpicked by them.
The man she was currently with was exactly the type her parents preferred. Older, rich as sin, and pompous as hell. Quite possibly they were married. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least.
Ten years ago Jason hadn’t been nearly good enough for the Kerns’ only child. Her family had had no qualms about voicing their disapproval and so Katie and Jason had been forced to meet on the sly. Dear, sweet heaven, how he’d loved her.
The thought of being apart was more than either one could bear. They’d been determined to find a solution and eventually had. Marriage.
The night they graduated from high school, instead of attending the senior party the way everyone expected, Jason and Katie eloped across the Idaho border.
It had been romantic and fun. They’d been giddy on love, and each other, certain they’d outsmarted their families and friends.
During the wedding ceremony, when Katie read the vows they’d written themselves, her eyes had filled with tears as she’d gazed up at him with heartfelt devotion. He never would have guessed that her love would be so untrustworthy.
Jason’s stomach clenched as he recalled their wedding night. He nearly snickered aloud. There’d been no such animal. If they hadn’t taken time for a wedding dinner, they might have had a real honeymoon. Jason had no one to blame but himself for that. He’d been the one who insisted on treating Katie to a fancy dinner. She’d been cheated out of the big wedding she deserved and he wanted to make everything as perfect for her as possible.
He’d been nervous about making love and he knew Katie was, too. She’d been a virgin and his experience had been limited to one brief encounter with his best friend’s older cousin when he was sixteen.
After he’d paid for the hotel room, they’d sat on the edge of the bed, holding each other, kissing the way they always did. In all the years since, he hadn’t met a woman who gave sweeter kisses than Katie. Not even Elaine.