by Delia Latham
“Trapped?” Rick frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I had shared enough of my life with him that he knew I was—well, needy, I guess. All those years of feeling inferior to Shay and Mom, the resentment I felt toward them.” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and kept talking. “He picked up on that without me ever actually telling him. Dylan is cunning, Rick. He watches people, hones in on their weaknesses. It didn’t take him long to figure out mine, and use it to his own advantage.”
Rick wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You mean your phobia of disfigurement?”
“Yes. In hindsight, I can see that Dylan figured out the reason for it, even though I didn’t know myself. I was so caught up in the romance—I never thought someone like Dylan would be attracted to me. At home, I always stood in Shay’s shadow, where no one noticed me. So for the first time in my life, I wasn’t being compared to my sister. But I let Dylan in too far, and honestly, I still don’t think I really told him a lot.” Her voice caught again, and she flicked away a hateful tear that slid down her cheek without her permission. “He just somehow—I don’t know. He knew. Like I said, he’s wily.”
“Are you OK?” Rick stopped and turned to face her, pulling her into a gentle hug. “This can wait, if it’s too much.”
“No.” She shuddered. “I need to do it now.”
“OK. But take your time. I’ve got all night.”
“Can we head back toward the gazebo? I’m feeling a little shaky.”
Without a word, he turned around and began to retrace their footsteps. Kylie launched back into her story without taking a breath. If she stopped now, she’d never get it told.
“Dylan figured out how to use my weaknesses against me. He began to hurl hateful insults that just…crushed me. The first time he did it, we were meeting a group of friends for a night at a local comedy club. I met him outside my dorm, and he raked me with those cold eyes of his, then he laughed, only it didn’t sound like he thought anything was funny. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, ‘You just can’t quite put an outfit together, can you? You look like a little girl whose mommy doesn’t know how to dress her.’”
By now, tears raced down her cheeks, and she no longer tried to hold them back. She stumbled, but Rick kept her from falling. “Easy,” he murmured. “Take a deep breath.”
She did, then plowed ahead. “He said things like that often. At first, he only did it when no one heard but me. Gradually, though, he began to be more open, taking a strange pride in humiliating me in front of others. It was so horrible!” She caught her breath on a sob. “But I couldn’t break up with him.”
“Why on earth not? Kylie, no one has to put up with that kind of treatment.”
She met his disbelieving gaze with a hopeless, blank one of her own. “I was afraid of him. Like I said, he figured out that I was terrified of disfigurement. One night, he pulled a knife out of his pocket and started sliding the blade all over my face. I literally froze with terror. I couldn’t move a single muscle.”
Rick tightened his hold on her arm, muttering something through clenched teeth.
“I can still hear him, still see the horrible look in his eyes when he spoke. ‘If you ever try to break up with me, Kylie Matthews, I’ll mess up this pretty face real good.’” She made no effort to hide the tremble in her voice. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. He meant every word, and I knew he was perfectly capable of doing what he said. When I started crying, he—he laughed. It was an awful, high-pitched noise that shouldn’t even qualify as laughter, but it was. ‘Careful,’ he told me. ‘Don’t get your face wet, sugar. Wouldn’t want this to slip, would we? It’s mighty sharp.’”
They’d reached the gazebo. Rick dropped onto the blanket and pulled her down next to him. “I wish I’d known all this today. He wouldn’t have gotten off so easy.” His voice grated, rough and unnatural, when he spoke.
Kylie sniffled and worked up a half smile. “I’m glad you didn’t know.”
“I hate thinking he got by with what he did to you.” He pounded the ground with one fist.
She shook her head. “Dylan’s just a sad, scared little man who has nothing but his looks going for him. I can see that now. His family is dysfunctional, and pretty much estranged from one another. By the time he robbed that convenience store and went to prison—which, thankfully, broke his hold on me—I don’t think he had a single friend, either.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for him, you’re wasting your breath.”
She laughed softly. “I’m not.”
“Did he ever hurt you? I mean, other than the obvious psychological bullying.”
The silence stretched out for a long time. Rick stepped into the gazebo and found a couple of candles, which he placed on the step leading into the structure. They didn’t need light, as the area was bathed in a beautiful silver glow from the moonlight. Maybe he just needed something to do.
“Kylie?”
She sighed. “He seemed to think the more often he terrorized me with that knife, the stronger his message. He got a little carried away once.”
Rick took her hand and pulled her up into his arms. “That lowlife cut you?” His voice held the vocal equivalent of metal against metal.
“Just a scratch. Enough to bring blood, but not leave a scar. I was so scared I couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t fight back.” She clutched at Rick, glad of his solid support. “Dylan had this crazy light in his eyes that night. He liked what he was doing. He might not have stopped that time, but his cell phone rang. He cursed and dropped the knife. His hand shook so hard he had trouble holding the phone when he answered it.” She shuddered, and a strangled sob broke through her careful control. “He was excited, Rick. Crazy. Almost beside himself with the need to sink that blade into my skin.”
“So what happened?”
“I don’t know. When he got off the phone, he jammed the knife into his pocket and left without saying a word.” She closed her eyes. “That was the night he robbed the store. I’ll never figure that out. I mean, as smart as Dylan is, you’d think before he tried to pull a stunt like that, he’d have a plan. But apparently, he did it on the spur of the moment, then walked out and strolled down the street with the money in his pockets. The police nabbed him within three blocks of the store.”
“Sounds like you had a guardian angel on duty that night.”
Kylie caught her breath and felt her eyes go wide. A guardian angel? Maybe. Yes, maybe I did.
****
Rick slipped an arm around her waist and led her up into the gazebo. She looked around, impressed by the amount of comfort he had built into the lakeside structure. Vinyl-cushioned seats wrapped around the trellised walls. A small table held center court, topped by a single rose in a small bud vase.
It appeared Rick had put some thought into this visit tonight. The pain she had dredged up from the past began to ease away, to be replaced by an overwhelming shyness.
A strong, tanned finger slid under her chin and forced her to look up. His gaze captured hers and held it. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he drew her closer…and closer still, while her heart set up an uproar that nearly knocked her backwards. With his lips within an inch of hers, Rick slid his hands from her shoulders, down her back and to her waist.
“Thank you for sharing that part of your life with me, Kylie. I have something to tell you, too.”
“Wh-what is it?”
He closed the distance between them, planting a feathery soft kiss at one corner of her mouth. He trailed it up her cheek, over her pounding temple, and to the tender spot just over her eye.
No! Not there!
She flinched and tried to pull away, but he caught her chin with one hand and held it firmly in place. “I love you, Kylie. All of you, even the less than perfect parts.”
He loved her? Tears stung her eyes, and she let them fall. But it was OK, because Rick kissed them away.
“I will dry your tears every
time they fall, sweet Twinks. Whatever it takes to make you smile, that’s what I’ll do. Always, if you’ll let me.”
Still he had not fully taken her lips with his own. Kylie yearned for that special touch. Every nerve, every fiber in her being longed for his kiss.
Slowly, she raised one hand and brought it to his lips, tracing their outline with a trembling finger. “Rick?”
“Hmmm?” His hands buried themselves in her hair. He tugged gently, easing her head back and opening her neck to his exploration. Kylie moaned when his lips seared a trail down her throat, pausing on the pulse point at the base of her neck.
“I feel your heart,” he whispered. “It’s beating with mine.”
“Rick!” She moaned his name. All shyness forgotten, she tangled both hands in his hair and pulled his face to hers. “Please…”
A tiny smile curved his lips. “What is it, my darling?”
“Don’t make me ask you!”
He pulled her so close she felt their heartbeats collide. One finger trailed down her cheek and to her lips. “You haven’t said it.”
Confused, she shook her head. “Said what?”
She felt the rumble of his soft laughter against her chest.
“Let me try this again.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, Kylie.”
She caught her breath, thrilling again to those beautiful words.
“Uhm…this is where you’re supposed to say, ‘I love you too, Rick.’” Her heart somersaulted when he flashed a mischievous, if somewhat anxious smile.
She’d been thinking the words so loudly. He hadn’t heard? “Oh, Rick! I do love you…so much I don’t know how to say it.”
His green eyes darkened, and he pulled her closer, less gently now. When he spoke, his voice had roughened. “That says it just fine.”
At long last, he brushed her lips with his. Softly at first, just a feathery touch, though passion thrummed through his body and she felt the vibrations in hers. When Kylie responded, kiss for kiss, he groaned and crushed her lips with his.
She melted, boneless and unresisting, into his embrace.
Her heart sang. Her soul soared. Her spirit took wing. Lightning flashed and stars exploded behind her eyes. Violent waves dashed the shores of her mind, and her heart became Rick Dale’s. Forever.
“Kylie?”
She felt his hands supporting her, heard him call her name, but she couldn’t find a voice to reply. Her eyes fluttered open, and instantly lost themselves in his gaze. She swooned, and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her across the grass to the blanket he’d spread earlier. He placed one last, sweet kiss on her lips, then turned and walked a few steps away.
Her body ached with his absence. Pain clawed through her heart and tears burned her eyes. What had she done wrong?
“Rick?”
He pulled in a deep breath and smiled. The moonlight reflected in his eyes, lending a silvery sheen to their emerald depths. In them, she saw all the love she had longed for all her life.
“Why—?”
He groaned. “Kylie, sweetheart, there’s a right way to do this…God’s way. If I hold you any longer, I won’t be able to wait.”
“Oh.” A powerful sense of loss washed over her. She felt the short distance between them like a gaping chasm.
In two strides, Rick closed that gap and knelt on one knee beside her. “Marry me, Twinks. I promise to always cherish you as much as I do right now…more, with every hour and every day we spend together.”
“Yes.”
He pulled a little box from his pocket and popped it open. The diamond inside caught a beam of lunar radiance and refracted it a thousand times over. Kylie gasped.
“Be my wife. Be Lea’s mother. Everything I am, all that I have is yours. Just say you’ll marry me.”
“Rick.” She touched his lips with a fingertip and smiled even as a tear slid down her cheek. “I said yes.”
“You said—you did?”
“Yes.” A gurgle of laughter made its way past her lips, easing the emotion that had choked her a moment before.
“You said yes!” His smile made the moon pale in comparison. He raised one arm straight up in the air and shouted into the darkness. “She said yes!”
He pulled her to her feet and nuzzled her ear. “Do you know you are my life?” he whispered. Then he kissed her again. A slow, gentle, thorough kiss that left her without a single doubt.
Rick Dale is the one I’ve waited for since before I was ever born.
Her body felt weightless, as if, at any moment, she and Rick might soar away, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Pesky humanity kept them earthbound, but no way could Kylie keep both feet on the ground.
One foot, with every toe curled, lifted and rose into the air behind her.
Epilogue
Three months later
Ten girls, the first official guests of Looking Glass Ranch, had arrived during the course of the past couple of days. Tomorrow—Monday—the facility would swing into action and become fully operational.
The busy weeks had passed in a blur. Staff members conducted a series of orientation classes for volunteers. Kylie and Rick attended each meeting, closely observing various reactions to the slideshows that depicted facial disfigurement of every imaginable type. Some volunteers opted out early on, offering embarrassed apologies and sincere wishes for the success of the venture.
Kylie took it on herself to handle these retractions of tentative commitments. She, more than anyone on staff, understood the shame and self-loathing these people would inflict on themselves because of their inability to deal with the less fortunate circumstances of the ranch clients. She allowed no one to leave feeling like a monster because they couldn’t carry through with their intentions. Those who were willing were entered into group therapy sessions with Winona Wayne, who had volunteered her services for a certain number of hours per week during the six-week therapy camps.
Kylie enlisted the aid of these individuals to help spread goodwill toward the ranch and its guests by word of mouth, social networking sites, blogs, and any other resources available to them. While their hearts and minds were still sensitive to the cause, she assured them that working on the ranch itself was not the only way to be of assistance. Approximately ninety percent of these people promised not only to endorse the facility’s purpose by any available means, but also to return and meet with Noni.
Tonight the large common room bustled with activity. Caterers in western gear strolled the room balancing trays of drinks and platters of hors d’oeuvres. Small groups of individuals wandered from building to building, taking the opportunity to familiarize themselves a little more with the facility.
Aside from staff and volunteers, a few close friends were in attendance—those Kylie and Rick knew could be trusted to treat the ranch’s special guests no differently than they treated anyone else. Destiny and Clay; Dane and Dayna; C.J. and Julie Gallagher—along with Clay and C.J.’s mother and stepfather, Claire and Preston Crane; Winona Wayne; Kylie’s parents; and Shay, in her official capacity.
Kylie stood in the shadows, watching her friends and the people who made up the Looking Glass staff—both salaried and volunteer. In a few moments, she would bring in the girls and introduce them to the people they’d be seeing on a daily basis for the next month. A lot of hard work and effort would come together tonight.
Everyone in this room waited eagerly to meet the girls. They stood in little clusters and lounged on bright, comfortable chairs. Some of the furniture in the room had arrived only the day before—part of the latest truckload sent from yet another manufacturer who wanted to be a part of the Looking Glass project.
Kylie still found it hard to believe the tremendous success of the advertising campaign she had dreamed up that sleepless night only weeks ago. Once she knew Rick approved of the direction she wanted to take it, she had perfected the plan quickly. The proposed opening date loomed all too imminent.
From the moment the ads
released in magazines and on national television, positive responses inundated their web mail as well as the physical location. The need for more storage became apparent, resulting in one more building being added to the complex. Already, the huge warehouse held enough supplies to keep them going through several six-week camp sessions.
Kylie’s early prediction had been accurate. Donated products covered a wide and surprising range of supplies. Toothpaste, soap—even a truckload of toilet paper arrived from one company. Another donor sent bedding and linens. Several boxes of mirrors arrived one day—framed mirrors for wall decor, handled ones for cosmetic use, elegant mirrored compacts. Apparently someone expected Looking Glass Ranch to live up to its name. Furniture arrived in enough styles and colors to furnish the entire complex and remodel a room or two when the need arose.
One wall held large framed photographs of the first carefully selected group of ten girls. Empty frames waited on a facing wall, ready to showcase the girls’ photos at the end of their month and a half visit. Kylie thought of these walls as opposite sides of the Looking Glass.
“It’s amazing, Kylie. You and Rick should be proud of what you’ve accomplished already.”
She turned to give Destiny a smile and a hug. “We are. Proud, humbled, and so grateful. None of this could have been done on such a grand scale without the generosity of so many people who’ve given unselfishly.”
“I just came from the new warehouse. People really have been giving, haven’t they?”
“Absolutely, and I’m not just talking about stuff, which is necessary, of course, and genuinely appreciated. But folks have given of themselves. Our volunteer staff exceeds the paid members by at least double the number.”
“From what I understand, your public relations and marketing skills made it happen, Ky.” Destiny laughed. “Clay is torn between a proprietary pride in your skills and a temptation to pout because he lost you to Rick.”