"A lot better than you, it sounds like," Jason responded. "I'm getting married."
"Are you?" This time Kevin was able to force a modicum of genuine joy into his voice. He was pleased; he only wished it were he saying those words and not the man on the other end of the telephone. "To Iris? Well, it's about damn time. Congratulations!"
Again Jason chuckled. "We never had you fooled for a moment, did we, boy? I always did say you had a lot more sense than Katie ever gave you credit for."
Kevin's throat tightened again at the mention of her name, and he couldn't prevent the next words, half muttered and unhappy. "Not necessarily." Then, quickly, he changed the subject. "When's the date? Am I invited?"
"I'll let you know. And of course you're invited. Not," he added shrewdly, "that I'd hold up the party waiting for you to show up. I hear you've gotten a bit too busy for us hometown folks lately."
Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair in a igesture that was half nervous, half weary. "Listen, if you mean about the hospital dedication, I'm really sorry about the schedule conflict, but—"
"Don't give me that bull, son," Jason said shortly. "You can try it on anybody else, but I know you too well. And you're forgetting that I've been on the mayor's planning committee since day one and I have access to certain information other people might not bother to investigate ... like the fact that you haven't been too busy to give every detail of this hospital project your personal attention, from cost control to safety inspection. Am I right? If it hadn't been for you pulling strings, we wouldn't have had this building up until this time next year, and if a man can take time out of his busy schedule to personally sift through that much red tape, why, I would say that man's schedule has to be pretty flexible, wouldn't you?"
Kevin uncomfortably shrugged out of his jacket. The air conditioner was broken again, and it was hot and sticky inside the trailer. "Look," he said, "that was different."
"Damn right it was," Jason declared adamantly. "For the first time in your life you didn't let your lackeys do everything for you. I've got to point out that that doesn't sound much like the Kevin Dawson I once knew. What's gotten into you, I wonder."
Kevin leaned back in the squeaky swivel chair, his expression fading into a sort of embarrassment. "Damned if I know. Maybe I grew up a little when I wasn't looking, hmm?"
"Could very well be," Jason agreed soberly. "But somehow it doesn't seem very grown-up to me to refuse to come to the dedication ceremony when you've worked so hard to get the hospital on its feet."
"No," Kevin admitted quietly, tired of glib denials and self-deceptions. "That's just cowardice."
"And that," Jason said in the same quiet tone, "is what I called about."
Kevin tried to smile. "You should have reversed the charges. That's a subject that could take the rest of the day to explore."
"No it won't. Because I've got one thing to say regarding your cowardice: it doesn't suit you anymore. You've changed, Kevin," he said simply. "And you don't even realize how much yet. You're still playing the same games, but you're in a different arena. How long," he asked, "were you going to wait before you went after Katie with the same kind of energy you used to get this hospital built?"
Kevin's heart started pounding again, tightly and heavily. "It's not the same thing. Katie's not the kind of woman who can be chased. She doesn't want me."
"How do you know that?"
"She told me so."
"And you believe that?"
Did he? Six months had passed. He, Kevin Dawson whose reputation was second to none, who had his pick of any of the starlets of Hollywood, had not been with another woman. He hadn't been tempted, not even for consolation. Always before, women, relationships, affection, had been a mirror to his ego, a balm to his confidence, a method of reassurance and a substitute for stability. He didn't need such placebos anymore; he didn't even think of them. Because in Kate he had found his real stability; nothing would ever change that, and nothing would ever be the same because of it.
Kevin said, a httle gruffly, "I'm not sure it matters what I think."
"Oh, it doesn't, does it?" Jason's voice was sarcastic. "Well, maybe you'd better think again. Katie's a fine woman," he continued in a milder tone, "smart as a whip and strong enough for any two men, and I'm proud to have her as a daughter. The only trouble with her is that she's gotten too used to bossing people around. She's been doing it to you all your life, hasn't she? Maybe it's time you showed her you can think for yourself."
Kevin ran a hand impatiently through his hair, then underneath his collar, which was not buttoned but nonetheless felt too tight. "Come on, the day of the caveman has passed. I can't make Katie do anything she doesn't want to. I certainly can't make her..." He had to swallow before he said the words. "Love me."
"But," Jason advised gently, "you might give her a little help in making some hard decisions. And you might also like to know that Dr. Jeff Brandon hasn't exactly been sitting on his hands since you've been gone. And Katie's talking about marriage."
Kevin tensed, then forcefully relaxed. He knew the ploy for exactly what it was; no one was going to incite him to jealousy long-distance over a woman who wasn't even interested in him. And if Brandon was who Katie wanted, that was who she should have. He would be better for her anyway. They were perfect for each other. He opened his mouth to say exactly that, but what came out was, negligently, "Listen, put my name back on the roster for the dedication ceremony, will you? I think I see a break in my schedule coming up."
Jason was chuckling when Kevin hung up the phone, and Kevin sat there for a long time, frowning thoughtfully. Jason was right about one thing. He wasn't a coward anymore, and refusing to return to the town he loved and to which he had poured so much energy was a childish act of defiance that did not suit him any longer. He was only ashamed that it had taken him this long—and the interference of another person—to realize it.
He did not have to see Katie, of course. At least not on a personal basis. He had no intention of interfering in her life. Katie had always made the right decisions, and there was nothing he could about that.
He would leave her alone, he decided firmly. It would be better all around.
Like hell it would.
The absent scowl on his face turned into something fierce, and a surge of adrenaline went through him that was second only to the one he had felt on the night of the storm. His fists bunched as he sprang to his feet, and he didn't look back as he strode out the door.
KATE RETURNED THE TELEPHONE to its cradle without dialing. This is insane, she thought, and then sank to the sofa, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as though to prevent herself from trying such an action again or to protect the curious happiness that threatened to give way to logic.
If Kevin had wanted to talk to her, he would have called. Who was she to just call up and say, "Kevin I've changed my mind. If you don't mind dropping everything, completely rearranging your life and falling in love with me again, I'd like to give us a chance."
She glanced at the telephone again. It was stupid. She knew Kevin. By now he was probably with some other woman, telling her the same sweet things he had told Kate, swearing undying loyalty and perhaps even proposing marriage.
But everything in Kate rebelled at that. Kevin hadn't been lying to her. Instinctively, she had known that all along. What was between them was different than what had been between him and someone else. It was stronger, and it was deeper; it had lasted over twenty years. When he had said he had loved her, she had known it was true; perhaps the only true thing about their entire relationship. The only thing that had kept her from seizing that gift that was meant only for her was her own cowardice.
If he had found another woman, Kate decided fiercely, she would fight for him. Because nothing any other woman could give him was as strong as what she and Kevin had together.
Her hand was on the telephone again when she stopped and backed away worriedly. Then why hadn't he called?
&
nbsp; Because, Doctor, you lied to him. You told him you didn't love him. How was he supposed to fight that? How she must have hurt him, after he had opened his heart to her, by rejecting his feehngs so coldly and so effortlessly. Had she said merely, "It can't work out," or "There are too many problems," he might have been able to challenge her. But she had said, "I don't love you," and there were no words more final, no goodbye more complete.
But I lied...
Love. What a euphemestic term for something as complete, as abiding, as all encompassing as what she felt for Kevin. He was a part of her. The good parts and the bad parts, the best and the worst of her; he had been with her forever. It was familiarity, and it was mystery; it was challenge and companionability, a mirror of contrasts.
For years she had fought it by seeing only the worst in Kevin, by convincing herself that no matter what else he was, Kevin Dawson was not a person she could like or respect. She had set up that distance between them because she knew the danger to her emotions should she ever let him get close, should she ever acknowledge to herself what was really between them. Then the storm had come and wiped away all facades, and she was forced to see the parts of Kevin she had hidden from before, just as he was forced to let her see them. And what had remained was the love, deep and untouched, that had always bound them together.
"We grew into love," Iris had said.
"It's the way we were always meant to be," Kevin had said.
That was the hardest thing of all, to discover love that had been hidden and fallow for all those years and to recognize it for what it was, to accept it without question. Kevin had been able to do that. Iris and Kate's father had been able to do it. But Kate had been afraid.
But she wasn't any longer. If the disaster through which they all had lived had done nothing else for Kate, it had shown her strength. It had proved to her that she possessed capabilities she'd never guessed she had before. It had shown her courage she never knew she had. She picked up the telephone.
Kevin was not at home; his housekeeper said he was at the studio. With much effort, Kate finally got the number but his private line was busy. When she tried again ten minutes later, someone told her he had left for the day.
No, he hadn't gone home. He was out of town, and no one knew when he would be back.
Kate sat for a moment, biting her lip m frustration. Then she came to a decision. She would go to California if necessary. These things could be worked out; all it required was a little effort on her part. And she had no intention of letting the rest of her life slip away because she was afraid to try. She picked up the phone again and dialed.
"Jeff," she said a little breathlessly, "are you still free for dinner?"
IT WAS TEN O'CLOCK in the evening when Jeff drove her home. They had gone to a country inn just over the county line, and Jeff assured her dinner had been excellent. Kate had been too excited to eat, and she'd had a lot to say.
His hand was light and protective on her elbow, his manner lightly amused as he walked her to the front door. "So," Kate said with a breath, taking out her key, "it's all settled. You'll handle the office for the next two weeks, and when I get back, we'll discuss rearranging the patient load."
He nodded. Kate had left on both the porch light and the living room lamps, and in the golden illumination his expression was tolerant and indulgent, though still slightly bemused. "Don't worry about a thing."
She started to unlock the door and then turned to him. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
"Would it matter if I did?"
"No," she said, smiling. "I'm afraid it wouldn't."
"In that case, boss, I don't mind." He looked at her for a moment, the smile in his eyes fading to gentle understanding. "You're doing all this so you can run off to your Hollywood playboy, aren't you?"
Kate tilted her head thoughtfully. "What would you say if I were?"
"I' say you're crazy," he responded flatly.
Kate laughed and leaned forward to brush his cheek with a kiss. "Thanks for everything, Jeff. Good night."
"Good night, Kate. Good luck..." And then he paused. "I think."
Kate was still smiling as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, placing her purse and keys on the table near the door. She started toward the telephone, intending to try Kevin one more time, and then she stopped. Everything within her stopped.
He was sitting on the sofa, wearing his Colt Marshall costume of bleached-out jeans, battered cowboy boots and embroidered denim jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned to the chest, his ankles were crossed on her coffee table, and he was sipping a glass of her wine. He looked more tired, sterner and thinner than she remembered. His hair was tousled, and there was a faint bristle on his chin; he was scowling. And he looked so beautiful to her that she actually felt dizzy from looking at him. Happiness and wonder soared through her and left her weak.
She smiled; she couldn't help it. Then she leaned back against the door for support and murmured, "Well, if it isn't Colt Marshall, as I live and breathe."
His brows only drew together more tightly over the bridge of his nose and his eyes were dark and tumultuous. She didn't care. All she could think was Kevin, Kevin... it's you, it really is.. Thank God...
He took a short gulp of the wine and demanded, "Did you have a good time?"
It took a long time for Kate to focus on his words, much less what they meant. Her head was spinning. In the end she answered with another question. "How did you get in here?"
"I put the locks on," he replied, glaring at her. "Naturally I have a key."
She wanted to cross the room to him, to gather him in her arms and feel his shape beneath her, to kiss him and hold him and tell him all that was singing and shouting within her. But her heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe, and her knees were too rubbery to move. Unable to think of anything else that would give her the time to regain her strength, she finally said, "My father is getting married."
"I know." His tone was terse, and his eyes darkened another fraction. He drained the last of the wine. "So, I hear, are you."
She hardly had time to absorb this incredible statement before he was on his feet, slamming the empty wineglass down onto the coffee table with a force that made it tip on end. He stalked over to her, his eyes blazing. "For God's sake, Katie, are you out of your mind?"
Her eyes were wide with confusion and protest, and she began a weak "Kevin—" But he cut her off.
"No, damn it, you just listen to me." He looked as though he would grab her then, but he stopped a few feet before her, his eyes churning, his stance taut. "Maybe I can't stop you from ruining your life, but I can make you listen to me for just this once!"
He took a breath, dragging his fingers through his hair in a gesture of restrained anger and forced control, half turning from her for a second. "Do you know what your problem is?" he demanded, whirling on her again. "Your problem is you're too damn used to being right. I'm used to your being right. But let me tell you something. Dr. Katherine Larimer—you were wrong about us!"
She whispered, "I know."
But he didn't hear her and continued furiously. "You were so danm sure we were just imagining what happened between us. You had me half convinced that I didn't know my own feelings. But it wasn't just the storm; it wasn't just stress, or whatever the hell you wanted to make me believe. It's been six months, and I've never stopped loving you. I—"
He paused suddenly, sucking in his breath sharply. He stared at her. "What did you say?" he breathed.
Her eyes were suddenly blurred, and her voice was choked. She said, "I said, 'I know.' I was wrong."
He stood there, just looking at her, for the longest time. The moment was held like a breath, questions and answers hovering between them in half-suspended awareness. He even took a half step toward her and then stopped. This was too important to rush.
His eyes lowered and then lifted to her again. He said quietly, searching her face, "Katie, I want you to understand something. I k
now that I'm known for being impulsive, and even headstrong, sometimes. I've made a lot of mistakes because of it. But you and I... we went through more than life together. We survived death together, and after living through the kind of destruction I saw last spring, watching the world literally blown apart, leaving people's lives in shambles... I haven't looked at anything in the same way since. Maybe I never will again."
He took a breath. "I guess you thought since I could walk away from it, I could forget about it just as easily. But I couldn't. I might not have lost anything of material value that night, but I did lose something just as important—my childhood, I guess. And it was probably about time.
"Things are in a different perspective for me now," he said simply. ''I'm not the same man you used to know. The things that used to be important to me don't seem to matter much anymore. I don't care so much about taking the easy way out, and the good times are—well, they're not as good as they used to be." He smiled a little, faintly. ''I guess what I'm saying is that I'm not the little kid who used to tag around and pester you for attention anymore. And maybe you won't like the man I've become."
Kate's fists clenched slowly into balls, and it was purely from the effort it took to keep herself from reaching for him. ''It didn't occur to you," she said, lifting her chin a little, "that I might have changed, too?" Her voice sounded a little thick, but it was steady. "Maybe the one thing I needed in my life is to learn how to deal with things I can't control. The storm was one of them. You're another. There are a lot of things I still don't know about myself, Kevin, and about life, but I know one thing, and maybe it's the most important one—I want you in my life."
He stood there, looking at her with hesitation and disbelief and cautious hope slowly lightening his eyes. And then he lifted his hands slightly, as though to reach for her, and she walked blindly into his arms.
After The Storm (Men Made in America-- Mississippi) Page 21