She had chuckled at the fact of Kurtis buying the nursing home without Ruth even knowing when she got her job, but the mousetrap story she declared the definitive winner.
‘Oh, I love ... I love it ... I love it,’ she chortled. ‘And this, I can tell you, Ruth, is my punishment for being such a bitch. Just imagine having such a wonderful story — about Kurtis Goodwin, of all people — and not being able to tell it? Oh, it’s too much. My system will never stand it.’
‘It is not,’ Ruth insisted, ‘anywhere near that funny.’
‘I think it’s the funniest, most romantic, most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard,’ was the reply. ‘And what’s more I’ll bet you any money he eventually described it as a “definitive statement”, didn’t he? Well, didn’t he?’
Ruth didn’t have to answer. Indeed, she would have had trouble doing so, because now the humour of the thing had got to her, too, and she joined Rosemary in laughter.
But when the laughter was over, so, surprisingly, was the depth of intimacy they had shared.
‘Kurtis and I have been friends and business associates for a long, long time,’ Rosemary said. ‘Which explains why I’m so much more ... why I may seem to know him better than you do. Do you know what I mean?
‘And that’s why,’ she said at Ruth’s nod, ‘I’m going to stop this entire subject right here, right now. I wouldn’t have started it if it weren’t for the fact that I’m as far from my normal bitchiness as I’ll ever get, right now, being madly, wonderfully in love myself, and therefore prone to the same idiocy as you’ve been going through. And some of what you’re going through, have gone through, I expect I’ve yet to learn and hope I never do. I told you earlier that I didn’t even know you’d split up — because Kurtis would think that something too personal, too...intimate to be discussed even with me.
‘It’s one of the things I respect him for, and I expect you do, too, so this conversation we’ve had must remain totally between the two of us. The two of us,’ she repeated, then added, ‘And him, of course. You must tell him about it; it wouldn’t be right not to, and he’d be furious if he ever found out it happened and you hadn’t told him. Honesty and openness and communication ate everything, Ruth — absolutely everything! I’m learning that in a big way myself now, with my man, who’s very like Kurtis in that way.’
‘I have a lot to tell him,’ Ruth admitted. ‘But first we have to get this business over with tomorrow or I’ll be too ashamed even to go back to Tasmania. And honestly, Rosemary, I haven’t the foggiest idea what it ‘s about or how to conduct myself or ... anything!’
‘Not to worry. Just follow my lead and I’ll coach you through it so smoothly, nobody will ever even suspect. Did you bring some fairly posh clothes — real power- dressing stuff?’
She totally approved of the choices Ruth had made before leaving Hobart, then poured them each a final glass of wine and spent half an hour going over the agenda for the next day.
‘Apart from that, you know as much as I do,’ she finally concluded. "This one was mostly Kurtis’ doing. And the last, I might point out, that we were involved in together.’
‘It just seems all so ... cloak-and-dagger,’ Ruth said. ‘I admit I haven’t taken as much interest in the business end of things as I should have, but isn’t this just a bit over the top?’
‘It is,’ Rosemary admitted. ‘But only because of some of the people involved. Big money makes for big paranoias, but, on the other hand, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.’
‘If we’re going to stay friends,’ Ruth retorted, ‘you’re really going to have to stop quoting my husband.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘You said that to Ro — and didn’t get back-handed across the room? You don’t know your luck, Ruth the witch. I’d have worse injuries than the log truck gave me if I’d dared say such a thing.’
Kurtis, looking for all the world like a racoon with his two black eyes and still swollen nose, winced at the pain caused by his astonished response.
‘Rosemary is very much in love; I expect it’s made her less dangerous,’ Ruth replied calmly. ‘It’s said to have that effect on some people.’
She was sitting hard up against the hospital bed, the fingers of her left hand numb because Kurtis had been holding it tightly in his one good hand ever since she’d walked into the room. Beneath his fingers, the unaccustomed tightness of her engagement ring, which she’d worn throughout her Sydney visit and still didn’t even know if he’d noticed despite his grasp, was biting into her finger with a pleasant pain.
Because of the black eyes, it was almost impossible to read Kurtis’ expression. He peered out at her as if from two identical smoke-blackened caves.
Ruth had been in the room only a few minutes, and except for a brief, perfunctory and quite correct kiss on his cheek upon arriving, the only physical contact between them was the hand-holding. Ruth was holding herself in reserve, deliberately, until she had fulfilled what she considered her ‘business’ commitment. Except for the hand-holding, of course. That she treasured, totally comfortable now with everything holding hands with Kurtis meant to her, had from the very beginning.
If Kurtis was surprised by this curious combination of intimacy and business brusqueness, he said nothing. But his grip never slackened, nor did the warm glow that seemed to emanate from him as Ruth related a blow-by-blow account of her expedition.
‘It was you that had such a strange, calming effect on me; not just being in love,’ he said, his voice husky, but Ruth shushed him before he could continue.
‘Don’t interrupt; this is important. You told me so yourself before I left.’
‘But you’ve done the business,’ he said. ‘It isn’t necessary to go over it item by item. You have to have done exactly what was required or you’d still be there.’
‘Rosemary and I had a very long talk before we got down to business business,’ Ruth said as if he’d never spoken. ‘The result of which was, to make a long story short because you’re getting tired and ought to rest, that I have a long and very sincere apology to make to you. And a complaint!’
‘Well, you’d better give me the apology, at least. The complaint might have to wait; you surely don’t intend to pick on me when I’m bedridden!’
‘I’m a nurse. I have ways that won’t leave a mark and nobody will ever know,’ she replied. ‘Now stop interrupting, because this is serious.
‘You were right about my running away. It was very immature and very unfair to you and I really have no excuse except that it was ... it was ...’
‘It was too soon,’ he prompted in a very small voice, then cringed away from her in a tragic-comic effort, Ruth knew, to diffuse her nervousness, to spare her feelings.
‘Yes,’ she replied soberly, ignoring his antics.. ‘It was too soon and you knew it. You tried to make me see it, too, or at least to consider it. Your letters ... damn those letters anyway; they’re going to haunt me forever.’
‘As they were intended to, my lady witch.’
And now she could read his eyes, not that she needed to. The pressure of his fingers was enough.
‘I realise that now. As I realise that I should have taken them more seriously from the beginning. And as I realise I should have given you more serious replies,’ she said.
‘I kept hoping you would.’
‘Yes, you did. That was obvious. There you were, pouring out all your feelings, telling me everything about the way you felt, the way you thought about things, your beliefs, everything! And all I could do was give you frivolous, superficial little notes in reply.’
‘Because you found it difficult to express your feelings.’ He shrugged, grimacing at the effort but never loosening his grip on her hand.
‘Because I didn’t want to,’ Ruth insisted. ‘Oh, I haven’t got your fluency with words, but that wasn’t the point. I just ... didn’t ... want to! I wanted love to be ... love. I didn’t want the serious part, I didn’t wa
nt to worry about the future, or even consider it. Not the way you did. I was a child and I treated it childishly!’
Now, as she paused, Kurtis merely looked at her. His lip had become even more swollen since she’d seen him first, and his attempts at any sort of smile were clearly painful. But his fingers spoke for him, as did his eyes, and both shouted understanding as Ruth painfully related the problems of their marriage, the fact that she hadn’t been able to accept his long and frequent absences as she had promised, as she should have. The problems with his work-social colleagues, the slights, the rudenesses, the innuendoes. And the main problem: herself, her immaturity, her refusal to face up to herself.
There was a slight gasp of ... surprise? when she had to force herself to meet his eyes and admit that their sex life had been so wonderful, so totally exquisite, so magical that she had difficulty accepting it, believing it could last, believing it was even real.
‘I think towards the end I was even a little afraid of it,’ she heard herself admitting. ‘And not just because I was sure I was ... sharing you. It was just ... too good to be true.’
His gasp was followed by a slow, knowing nod, then a minute shake of his head.
‘Knew something was going wrong, but I couldn’t figure it out,’ he said, speaking into an embarrassed silence. ‘Tried to be more gentle, more patient...’
‘Patient!’ Here, finally, was a God-given excuse for Ruth to launch into the second part of her performance — the complaint! ‘Patient is not the word for it,’ she exploded, not angrily but in an almost joyous sense of relief at having the opportunity now and the guts to get this poison out of her.
‘That damned patience of yours, Kurtis, was part of the problem too,’ she said. ‘You were too damned patient! Oh, my love, why couldn’t you have used a little less patience and borrowed some of my immaturity? Maybe then you could have jolted me into reality, somehow.’
‘Not my style,’ he said with a rueful shake of his head. ‘All I can be is what I am — that’s one of the reasons I was so verbose in my letters, trying to explain everything to you, all my flaws and faults and worries and...’
‘And a lot of other wonderful things I didn’t understand at the time, because they were so.. .serious. And I wasn’t and didn’t want to be. I just wanted to love you and be loved by you,’ Ruth said.
‘And now?’
Ah, she thought. Now it’s crunch time. And she consciously squared her shoulders and leant closer, meeting his eyes fearlessly, if not quite confidently.
‘Now I just want to love you and be loved by you. And now I’m old enough,’ she said. And she watched his eyes, hardly daring to hope that she would see that sea of tenderness rising in them.
Nor did she! What she saw was even more important: the tide of laughter, warm, gentle, intimate laughter that was so much a part of Kurtis in her own eyes.
‘Your damned timing hasn’t improved much since the start of this magical romance, my lady witch,’ he growled past his swollen lip. ‘You finally get your cauldron working properly and look at me! I’m such a mess I can’t even do anything about it. I can’t even kiss you properly without getting a local anaesthetic first. Some witch you are!’
Ruth smiled, the relief probably obvious on her face and in her eyes and voice, but all the more welcome for that.
‘Wait until I get you home,’ she said, ‘and you’ll see what kind of magic I can make. Nursing and witchery make a very, very strong combination; you’ll see.’
To which Kurtis raised his plastered wrist and used it to point to his plastered thigh.
‘Like this? You’ll need more than magic.’ But now his eyes smiled and the fingers that held her own were moving, tracing runes along the sensitive inner skin of her wrist. Ruth merely smiled and reached down with her free hand to draw intricate designs along the plaster on his thigh, leaning forward until their noses almost touched as the designs left the upper edge of the cast.
‘So little faith,’ she whispered. ‘It’s no wonder you’re only an apprentice-grade warlock.’
‘Does your magic include being able to lock doors?’ he sighed raggedly a moment later. ‘What if the nurse should walk in, after all?’
‘The nurse is in,’ she replied. ‘And she locked the door on her way. Surely you’re not about to question my knowledge of hospital procedures, too?’
‘I was about to question nothing at all, my lady witch and wife,’ he said some moments later, his voice now extremely ragged. ‘Besides, it wasn’t ever your magic that was at issue. Only your sense of timing.’
Ruth lifted her head to stare at him, her lips curled in a broad smile.
‘You want to complain about that?’ she demanded. ‘Now?’
And joined him in howls of laughter when the answer came not from Kurtis, but as a knock on the door.
~~~
About the Author
Victoria Gordon is the pseudonym and muse for Canadian/Australian author
Gordon Aalborg’s more than twenty contemporary romances.
As himself, he is the author of the western romance The Horse Tamer’s Challenge (2009) and the Tasmanian-oriented suspense thrillers The Specialist (2004)and Dining with Devils (2009)
as well as the Australian feral cat survival epic Cat Tracks.
Born in Canada, Aalborg spent half his life in Australia, mostly in Tasmania, and now lives
on Vancouver Island, in Canada, with his wife, the mystery and romance author Denise Dietz.
More on www.gordonaalborg.com and www.victoriagordonromance.com .
THE BOOKS
As Victoria Gordon
Wolf in Tiger’s Stripes (2010)
Finding Bess (2004)
Beguiled and Bedazzled (1996)
An Irresistible Flirtation (1995)
A Magical Affair (1994)
Gift-Wrapped (1993)
A Taxing Affair (1993)
Love Thy Neighbour (1990)
Arafura Pirate (1989)
Forest Fever (1986)
Cyclone Season (1985)
Age of Consent (1985)
Bushranger's Mountain (1985)
Battle of Wills (1982)
Dinner At Wyatt's (1982)
Blind Man's Buff (1982)
Stag At Bay (1982)
Dream House (1981)
Always The Boss (1981)
The Everywhere Man (1981)
Wolf At The Door (1981)
The Sugar Dragon (1980)
as Gordon Aalborg
Cat Tracks (Hyland House: Melbourne: 1981)
(Delphi Books: U.S. edition: 2002)
The Specialist (Five Star Mysteries: 2004)
Dining with Devils (Five Star Mysteries: 2009)
The Horse Tamer’s Challenge (Five Star Expressions: 2009)
A Magical Affair Page 16