Wyoming Legend

by Diana Palmer

  Karina had sent Janey a skating costume, an expensive one from the boutique where Karina had her costumes made. It was white with crystal accents, which would look beautiful on the little girl, with her dark hair and pale olive complexion. Janey had raved about it.

  Janey wrote her back, a long email about Dietrich being back in the house and Lindy being gone for good. She asked if Karina had liked the charm bracelet, adding that her dad had spent a lot of time having it made to his own specifications by an artist who worked for an exclusive jeweler in Denver.

  Karina’s heart jumped when she read that. Micah had designed it himself. It wasn’t something he’d just bought, ready-made. She turned it over in her hands, fascinated. She didn’t understand.

  There was a postscript to Janey’s email. It read, “Dad saw you and Paul skating in Jackson. He said it was like watching ballet. He knows you’re going to win a gold medal. We’re all going to be at the Olympics to cheer you on. And don’t bother saying you don’t know if you’ll get to go. All of us are sure that you will. Love to Paul. Lots of love to you. Janey.”

  Karina put the charm bracelet to her lips and tears rolled down her cheeks in her lonely apartment. She knew that she’d cherish the piece of jewelry as long as she lived. Micah was sorry he’d misjudged her. That was nice, but an apology was all it was. He hadn’t suddenly discovered passionate love for her. He and Lindy had broken up before, she recalled, and he’d always taken Lindy back. Karina was under no illusions that she was going to fill Lindy’s place in his life. That really was a pipe dream.

  She thanked Janey for both gifts, said that she and Paul were practicing hard for Nationals and wished Janey a happy New Year.

  * * *

  KARINA WAS ALL NERVES. Paul just smiled.

  “We know our routine backward and forward,” he chided as they waited their turn to skate. “We know we’re good. But this isn’t a competition. We’re just going out there to skate for Janey and show her how good we are.”

  She looked up at him. “What? Janey’s here?” she exclaimed.

  “Somewhere,” he said, nodding. “Burt, too.”

  Her heart jumped. Dear Burt! He’d made sure that Janey could see them compete. She didn’t think about whether Janey had asked her father to fly them here. Likely he was off somewhere with Lindy...

  “Heads up,” Paul said, as they were announced, after the bouquets of flowers and stuffed animals meant for the previous skaters had been cleared off the ice.

  They skated out onto the ice, momentarily half-blinded by the lights all around. Karina wanted to look into the stands, to see if she could see Janey. She didn’t dare. Now she had to concentrate on what she was doing. Every second counted.

  The pair had finished second in the short program on Wednesday night. Scores on that one would be added to those of the free skate, which was tonight, Friday night. Then, tomorrow, the Olympic contenders would be named. A lot was riding on their scores here. They had to hope that all the training, all the hard work, would pay off.

  “We’re good. We’re great. We will win,” Paul whispered to her as they assumed their starting pose. “So smile and let’s show them who we are!”

  She laughed softly. “Okay.”

  * * *

  AND THEY DID. They skated a perfect program. Up in the stands, Janey was almost jumping up and down as she watched them speed across the ice, into flawless jumps.

  “They’re so good!” Janey whispered. “They’re perfect!”

  “Yes, they are,” Burt agreed.

  Micah didn’t say a word. He was watching, wishing them all the luck he could muster even while he thought of a future that couldn’t contain Karina. She was beautiful on the ice, a fantasy of balletic movement. How could he ask someone with that sort of talent to give it all up and live on a ranch in Wyoming and have children? He’d said her skating aspirations were pipe dreams, when what he wanted of her was the true dream. No wonder she couldn’t give it up. She’d worked her whole life to get here, to this point in time, to be the best in the world.

  He was morose, even as he cheered when they finished the free skate and moved off the ice to wait for their scores.

  “Look! They’re in first place!” Janey enthused.

  “Now all they have to do is hold on to it,” Burt said. “But as long as they can stay in the top three, they’ll still have a shot at the Olympics.”

  “When will we know?” Janey asked.

  “Tomorrow morning, they’ll announce it,” Burt said. “But you have to consider that they won the Grand Prix again in November, and they won the Worlds back in March. Those combined scores will decide it in their favor, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re right!” Janey said.

  * * *

  IN FACT, HE WAS. Paul and Karina held on to first place, winning the gold in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. The next morning, the US Olympic teams were announced. Paul and Karina would go to Pyeongchang.

  Karina and Paul were delighted to be chosen. This would be their second Olympics, but they were hoping to do better than last time. Hilde could hardly contain her enthusiasm. Her skaters had overcome so many obstacles to win the event. And it was her coaching, her choreography, that had won the day.

  Other skaters came by to speak to her. So did other coaches. Hilde felt vindicated. Perhaps she wasn’t as out of touch as people had thought!

  * * *

  KARINA AND PAUL were to fly out Sunday from San Jose, back to Jackson. Saturday night, they ate at a five-star restaurant with Gerda and the twins and Hilde. Sitting nearby at another table were Janey and Burt and Micah.

  Although Paul had told her that Janey was in the audience, Karina was surprised to see Micah there. She tried to avoid looking at him, but he was staring in her direction. After the waiter took their orders, Janey went over to congratulate them.

  “You’re going to the Olympics! I’m so proud of you!” Janey exclaimed, hugging Karina, who laughed and hugged her back.

  “So this is your young friend,” Gerda said, opening her arms to hug Janey, too. “I’m Gerda. I’m very happy to meet you. I’ve heard much about you.”

  “I’ve heard about you, too. Your little boys are so cute!” Janey exclaimed.

  “A handful,” Paul chuckled, “but our greatest joy.”

  “Dad said to say congratulations, too,” Janey told Karina. “We’re all proud of you both.”

  “Thanks,” Karina said huskily. She started to pick up her water glass and Janey saw what was on her arm.

  “You’re wearing the bracelet,” Janey noted. She grinned.

  Karina flushed. “It’s very pretty,” she faltered.

  Janey didn’t say anything else. She laughed as she went back to the table with Burt and her father.

  “She’s wearing it,” she told Micah.

  His thick eyebrows arched.

  “The charm bracelet,” she added.

  He cleared his throat. “Oh.” He felt as tongue-tied as a teenager. It pleased him that she’d even put on the bracelet. Of course, it was pretty.

  Sure. That was it. She liked it because it was pretty. He’d done so much damage to their relationship that he couldn’t expect more than that.

  * * *

  AS THEY FILED out of the restaurant, Karina hugged the boys and Gerda and Paul and waved them off to their hotel room. She was going to her own, upstairs, because they were staying at different venues.

  “Need a ride?” Micah asked gruffly as he and Janey and Burt came outside.

  “I’m upstairs,” she said, flushed, as she averted her eyes.

  “So are we,” Burt said. “Janey, didn’t you want to look at a doll in the shop over here?” he added, indicating a shop window, whose business was still open.

  “Yes, I did!”

  He and Janey walked away, st
randing Karina with Micah.

  He stuck his hands deep in the pockets of his dress slacks and looked down at her from his formidable height. “You like it, then.”

  She glanced up, hesitantly.

  “The bracelet.”

  “Oh. Well, yes,” she faltered, lifting her wrist. “I didn’t realize it was so expensive.”

  His big hand caught her wrist and held it gently as he studied the bracelet on her arm. “I noticed that you like white gold,” he said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He drew in a long breath. “I’m sorry,” he bit off.

  Her pale gray eyes searched his dark ones.

  “I watched you and Paul skate in Jackson, the night I put Lindy on a plane and broke the engagement,” he continued. “There was an elderly couple sitting near me. They told me about the gold medal. About Paul’s wife and the twins.” He averted his gaze. “I felt like a fool.”

  “Lindy didn’t help,” she said. “I hug Paul all the time. He’s the brother I never had. But I don’t feel romantic about him. I never did. Gerda’s my best friend in the world. I’m godmother to their twin boys.”

  “I was jealous.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He glared down at her. “He’s younger than I am, handsomer than I am, and he skates as beautifully as you do. He’s part of a world I know nothing about. I deal in oil wells and cattle, business matters.” He averted his eyes. “I felt bad when I realized the truth. I’d told you that you’d never make it into competition without once watching you skate.” His eyes lowered to hers again. “You’re like poetry when you’re on the ice,” he said, faint wonder in his tone; that, and something deeper. “Mobile art.”

  She flushed. “Thanks.”

  “You and Paul skated in the last Olympics, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “We had a new coach. We’d just finally left one who was loud and abusive. We weren’t really ready. After that, my parents died and I broke my leg, so I was off the ice for a couple of months. It was a bad time.”

  He moved a step closer, so that she could feel the heat of his body, the strength of it. “You weren’t going to skate again, after you broke your ankle. That’s why you came to work for me.”

  She grimaced. “I was afraid,” she confessed, looking up at him. “If it hadn’t been for Janey wanting to learn to skate, I don’t know if I’d ever have had the courage to try again. Even my doctor said I should give it up.”

  He drew in a long breath and laughed hollowly. “That’s what I was really asking you to do, when I fired you.” A faint flush covered his high cheekbones. “I’d had my fill of Lindy’s sharp tongue and demanding attitude, not to mention the way she was with my daughter. I thought...” He stopped, unwilling to voice what he’d thought.

  She reached out a hand and touched his hard cheek. “You thought...?” She looked up, with her heart in her eyes.

  His teeth ground together. She was beautiful, in a way that had nothing to do with surface attraction. She was beautiful inside. “I thought you wouldn’t have a chance at real competition. I wanted more kids than just Janey. I...”

  Her heart ran wild. “You...?”

  His big hand moved to her cheek and rested there, his thumb moving sensually over her soft mouth. “You love Janey. She loves you. The ranch is isolated. If you were just an amateur skater, a hopeful, I thought you might not mind giving it up. Getting married. Having kids.” He removed his hand. “That was before I knew how good you were.” He smiled sadly. “No wonder your parents sacrificed so much for you, Karina. I’ve never seen anything like you and Paul on the ice.”

  She was melting at his feet. He’d wanted to marry her. To have children with her. He’d been planning to ask her to stay, to give up skating for him, for Janey. He didn’t realize that she’d have done it, even then. She loved him.

  “But it was impossible,” he continued, retreating with a bland, public smile. “You have a great career here,” he indicated the ice arena in the distance. “I don’t doubt that you and Paul will get that gold at the Olympics.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her tone subdued, her eyes losing their excited, happy sparkle.

  “I’ll make sure that Janey and Burt get to Pyeongchang to cheer you on,” he added gently.

  Her eyes searched his, and the disappointment in them was blatant.

  He frowned. “What is it?” he asked gently.

  “You aren’t coming, too?” she blurted out.

  His sensual lips parted as he stared down at her. His breath caught in his throat. “Do you want me to?” he asked huskily.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered.

  Ignoring the crowd around them, the snowflakes that began, very lightly, to settle on them, he framed her face in his big warm hands, and bent to her mouth. He kissed her with breathless tenderness, so tenderly that tears rained from her eyes and ran down her cheeks in pale rivulets.

  He lifted his head when he tasted them. “What?” he whispered.

  “Joy,” she whispered back, her eyes glistening, but not with sadness. “It’s overflowing.”

  He smiled slowly. “Oh.”

  She laughed inanely. Life was sweet again. Life was glorious!

  He loved the change in her. He loved knowing that he’d caused it. He smiled slowly. “Okay. I’ll go with them. To Pyeongchang.”

  “Okay.”

  They laughed, a little self-consciously when they noticed the smiles they were getting from people around them. They moved apart.

  “I guess it will be practice from now until next month,” he guessed.

  She nodded. “Hours every day. It takes a lot.”

  “You take care of yourself,” he said.

  She smiled. “You do the same.”

  He sighed. “I’d take you home with us, if I could,” he added.

  She smiled. “I’d go, if I could.”

  His heart lifted. He caught her wrist, the one that held his charm bracelet. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” she said. “But you could have left off the crow.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll think of something to replace it.”

  “I like crows. Not for lunch.”

  He grinned. “Me, too.”

  He brought her wrist to his lips and kissed it softly. “Stay away from bears.”

  She had to think a minute to remember. She’d chased a bear away from Dietrich. She laughed. “How’s Dietrich?”

  “Happy to be back in Janey’s room at night.” He shook his head. “Men can be blind,” he confessed. “I certainly was.”

  “Wear a raincoat when it rains,” she returned softly.

  He got lost in her pretty gray eyes. “I will.”

  They just stared at each other while snow swirled around them. Karina never wanted to leave. She wanted to stand there and look into Micah’s dark eyes forever. But of course, she couldn’t.

  Janey came running back, grinning when she saw her two favorite adults gazing at each other.

  “It’s a pretty doll,” she announced.

  They both looked down at her, smiling.

  “But I like skates better,” she added. “I want to skate like you when I get big,” she told Karina, and hugged her.

  Karina hugged the little girl back. “You can do whatever you like in life,” she said gently. “You just have to believe in yourself.”

  “You and Paul are going to win. I just know it!”

  Karina smiled, but her eyes were sad when they met Micah’s. He looked depressed. She wondered why. But before she could ask, the snow came harder.

  “We’d better get some sleep,” Micah said. “We leave early in the morning. I have to stop off at Phoenix for a conference. Don’t worry,” he told a crestfallen Janey with a laugh, “you and Burt can take the jet home, I’ll have it come back for me.”
<
br />   “Okay, Dad. Thanks!” Janey exclaimed.

  “I’ll second that,” Burt drawled. “I’ve got some things to do at the ranch.”

  “How’s Billy Joe?” Karina asked.

  “Off limits, that’s how he is,” Micah growled.

  Karina looked up at him and suddenly she broke into a beaming smile. He understood that expression without words. He smiled, too.

  “Maybe we can take in a movie after the Olympics,” he suggested.

  She grinned. “Maybe we can.”

  Janey didn’t say a word. But she was smiling from ear to ear. So was Burt.

  * * *

  TRAINING INTENSIFIED IN the weeks that followed. There were meetings and public appearances in between.

  Paul was amused at his partner, who spent a lot of time texting Micah during their rest periods.

  “I’m amazed that your fingers haven’t given out,” he teased. “What in the world do the two of you find to talk about?”

  “Janey,” she said, laughing. “Well, mostly.”

  “And when it’s not just Janey?”

  She shook her head. “Just ordinary things. Dietrich. The ranch. Business. How many cities he’s seen.” She hesitated. “How lonely he is.”

  “Good.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Good?”

  “Yes. If he’s lonely, that means he’s not seeing someone else, yes?”

  She pursed her lips. “Actually, yes,” she agreed, nodding. “Very astute!”

  He made her a mock bow. “Gerda and I did the same,” he recalled.

  “You and Gerda talked all the time,” she chided. “You talked too much to reduce it into a few lines of text on a cell phone. Besides, cell phones weren’t as efficient then as they are today.”

  “All too true. Not so many apps.”

  She laughed. “Truly.” She drew in a breath. “I’ve never talked about after Pyeongchang,” she began.