No, she wasn’t all right, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m fine.”
“Mikala—”
“Let’s not analyze it,” she murmured. Then more to herself than to him confessed, “I can’t believe we let ourselves get so carried away.”
“I thought we weren’t going to analyze it.” His tone was dry, maybe even filled with a little wry humor.
But, for her, there was nothing funny about what had happened. Especially as a therapist, she should have known better. “I was just an outlet for you. You were talking about your marriage, some of your regrets, and I was just…here.”
His brows furrowed and he almost scowled. “So you think if the real-estate agent had sat on the bed with me, I would have kissed her?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
He studied her, then shook his head. “I don’t understand you, Mikala. You’re a confident, independent woman yet I think part of you is amazed I’m attracted to you. Why is that?”
Why was that, indeed?
When she didn’t respond, he asked, “How many serious relationships have you had?”
“I don’t want to talk about it here.”
“If we don’t talk about this here and now, I don’t think you’ll ever answer me. How many did you have?”
“One.”
“When?”
“When I was in college, earning my master’s.”
“What happened?”
“Dawson—” She found herself sliding away from him, trying to put physical as well as emotional distance between them.
“What happened?” He drew out each word in a determined way that let her know she couldn’t evade him.
“He found someone else.”
A look came into Dawson’s eyes that made her angry. “Don’t you dare pity me! Don’t tell me you understand what it was like to feel rejected like that unless it happened to you.” There was so much passion in her words, she was surprised by her vehemence.
Dawson reached toward her, then thinking better of it, dropped his hand. “How long were you together?”
“A year.”
Again that look was in Dawson’s eyes and she couldn’t stand it. She stood, ready to run downstairs.
But he stood, too, clasped her arm and made her stay. “You don’t see pity. Maybe compassion, but there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“This—” She motioned to the bed, and to them. “This has no place to go. I have trouble…trusting, and you—you have a son who has to come first. I know better than anybody that a parent has to do that, has to put a child before anything else.”
“Because your mother didn’t.”
“Enough, Dawson! This isn’t the time or place.”
After a long probing look, he seemed to agree. After all, he was a man in transition. And she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to risk giving her heart to anyone again. Dawson could obviously see her turmoil. He didn’t probe more and he didn’t apologize for what had happened on the bed. They were attracted to each other. They always had been and just hadn’t known what to do about it.
He did reach out and touch her then. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You’re a beautiful woman, Mikala. I wish you could see that as easily as everyone else does.”
She felt embarrassed again and could feel herself blushing. Turning away from him and his touch, she crossed to the door.
Touring houses with Dawson had become a dangerous proposition.
* * *
That evening, Dawson felt churned up. He’d left too much unsettled with Mikala. There had been nothing but silence in the car today as they’d driven back to the B and B. They’d gone their separate ways but he’d still felt connected to her…felt they’d left too much unfinished. Now, with Luke comfortably having dessert with Anna, he had a few minutes to talk to her. Anna had checked Mikala’s schedule and she didn’t have therapy now, yet she hadn’t come to dinner. Because of what had happened?
Before he reached the studio, he heard the piano. He knew the song. It was a ballad from Les Misérables, one of Kelly’s favorite Broadway shows. The song—“On My Own”—was filled with longing and feelings that went as deep as the soul.
He imagined this song resonated with Mikala. Her mother had pretty much abandoned her and even he didn’t know the full story behind that. Yes, she’d had her aunt, but when your own mother walks away—
He couldn’t imagine it. How had that affected the way Mikala thought about herself? Had she made the child’s assumption that her mother’s leaving was her fault? Had she envisioned her mother coming back day after day, week after week, only to be disappointed over and over? Never felt as if she were enough to bring her mom back?
Mikala hid most of her insecurities, but she certainly had them.
The music coming from the studio took on a haunting quality. The notes expressed so much feeling, so much passion. After their encounter at the house this afternoon, he was sure Mikala had no idea how much untapped passion lay inside of her. He suspected they’d hardly skimmed the surface. Yet in this piano piece, he heard all of Mikala’s intensity, everything she didn’t express. Mikala was all about maintaining control over everything in her world, maybe because so much had been out of control as she’d grown up. What had happened to her in college? How could a man walk away from a woman like her?
It was a moot point. That guy had hurt her badly. She was still protecting herself from abandonment, even now.
He’d almost reached the flagstone patio in front of the studio when the music stopped. He waited for more. He thought she might start up again, but there was only silence. He knocked on the door.
It took only a few moments, but then she was there, her eyes glistening. Had she been crying while she played?
“Are you all right?”
When she quickly turned away from him, he caught her shoulder and nudged her around. She was still dressed in that wonderfully soft yellow sweater.
“Something’s wrong. Tell me what it is.”
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I just got a little…sad.”
“Why?”
“My mother sent an email. She’s having a show in Paris and attached photos of the models and what they’re wearing.”
“She’s trying to keep you involved in her life?”
“I think she’s just trying to show off, feed her ego, allay her guilt. That’s what she always does. When I was a kid she’d send a short note with fifty dollars, or tickets to a concert or a bracelet so expensive I’d be afraid to wear it. My mother doesn’t understand the first thing about me or about my life. If she did, she’d know a phone call was more important than anything else. She’d know a visit wouldn’t replace all the years she was away, but it would help.”
Mikala turned toward the music room and went to the piano bench. “Why did you come over, Dawson? You and Luke have the evening to spend together.”
“You and I need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. We forgot about the boundaries today. That’s all.”
“Boundaries? Mikala.” He crossed to the bench, slid onto it and turned to face her. His leg brushed hers, but she didn’t move away. The piano keys were before them, but that didn’t stop him from reaching over and catching her hand.
But she wouldn’t let him delve right into conversation. “Where’s Luke?”
“He’s with Anna having apple pie.” He wasn’t used to opening up to anyone, so finding the words to express his thoughts to Mikala was tough. “I understand you have some walls up and that’s why you don’t date,” he said. “I have some of my own. I miss Kelly. I loved her. Still do. But something happened to us along the way. Maybe marrying because she was pregnant was the wrong road to take. Maybe that laid a bad foundation for our marria
ge. Or maybe we just didn’t know how to meld our lives, to compromise over the right things.”
After a few heartbeats, she said, “I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do. I didn’t succeed at what mattered most, being a good husband and father.”
“So you’re reluctant to get involved again.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Luke has to come first.”
After a long silence, Mikala said, “Being a good parent isn’t easy. It is a full-time job.” Then maybe because Dawson had given her a window into his soul, she must have felt as if she wanted to do the same. She asked, “Do you know why my mother left?”
“No.”
She hesitated and was obviously reluctant to go on. When he squeezed her hand, she looked up at him with all the naive, innocent vulnerability he’d seen in her on prom night. “She’d met someone at an art class. They left for New York to find their dreams together. David wanted to own a gallery someday. She wanted to be a fashion designer. They were together about five years before they split up. By then she’d entered a design competition and won so she was on her way. She never looked back.”
Dawson absolutely didn’t know what to say. “Did you understand what was going on?”
“No. I just knew she’d met someone and she loved him more than she ever loved me. I just knew I wasn’t enough to keep her here in Miners Bluff. She didn’t want to put me to bed at night, play games with me or watch me learn to ride a horse. She simply didn’t care about my life.”
Mikala’s voice trembled a bit and he could see that even now she was putting up a brave front. Yet inside she was still that abandoned little girl with lots of questions.
All of those questions as well as her experience gave her perceptiveness not many women had. She proved it when she said, “You’ve completely restructured your life for Luke. He comes first. I understand what it’s like when your mother is suddenly gone from your life.”
“What happened after your mother left? Didn’t you stay in contact?”
“I would call her and hear his voice instead of hers. Each call became more and more uncomfortable until I didn’t call at all. And she was too busy to call me.” Mikala slid her hand out of his and laid it in her lap.
Gazing at her, understanding her so much better now, he cupped her chin in his palm and kissed her. It was a soft melding of lips, the gentlest flick of his tongue against hers and then it was done.
Her gaze was troubled as she looked up at him. “I don’t know if I should be Luke’s therapist. Not with whatever is going on between us.”
“I know you haven’t had many sessions with Luke yet. But outside of those sessions, he does seem to connect with you just when you’re around. Do you feel you’re the best person to help him?”
She didn’t answer right away as she soberly considered his question, and maybe his son’s love of music and the trust she’d started to build. “I think I can help him.”
“All right. That’s settled. And as far as you and I go… Let’s just take this one day at a time.”
Gazing into her eyes, he saw the same longing he felt whenever he was around her. She repeated, “One day at a time.”
“First and foremost, we’re friends, Mikala. I think both Luke and I need a friend right now.”
He slid to the end of the piano bench, stood and crossed the room, feeling as if something good had finally begun.
Chapter Six
As Dawson drove home from the skating rink on Sunday afternoon, he glanced at Luke. Today they hadn’t asked Mikala to join them. Dawson knew he, himself, had to establish a solid bond with Luke. But bonds weren’t easy to recapture. Luke had skated, peered out at the mountains, and then skated some more…alone.
Dawson could feel his son’s loneliness. He knew what it felt like. When his parents were going through their problems, he hadn’t confided in anyone. The kids at school had thought he was cool and had it all together. Of course he hadn’t wanted them to think otherwise. His parents had believed they were hiding their problems from him. But he’d heard their low-toned conversations and the arguments that weren’t supposed to go beyond the bedroom door. And he’d felt completely isolated.
Until the night of the senior prom when he’d connected with Mikala.
He understood Mikala couldn’t tell him anything about the session she’d had with Luke yesterday. But Luke wasn’t saying a word, either. Dawson felt as if he were on the outside and didn’t know how to remedy that.
Snow had begun falling in earnest right before they’d left the rink. Dawson switched on the windshield wipers as he tried to swipe away the big, fat flakes.
He couldn’t stand the silence in the car or the disassociation he felt from his own son. There had been a sign in the game room about hockey tryouts. “Do you think you’d like to play hockey? You could take lessons on Saturday mornings and join the team.”
“Maybe,” Luke responded, giving his usual one word answer.
“Did you enjoy skating today?”
“It was okay.”
Three words. That’s progress, Dawson decided. “It’s good exercise. Maybe we could both get fitted up for cross-country skis. Think you’d like to try that?”
This time all Dawson got was a shrug.
“I want you to find things here that you like to do.”
Suddenly a spurt of words came from Luke. “I like looking through Aunt Anna’s old pictures and hearing her tell the stories about the mine and all.”
“Really?” Anna as well as Mikala had an amazing ability to relate to Luke. Dawson was surprised his son enjoyed Anna’s stories as much as her apple pie. “What else?”
“I like playing Mikala’s piano. It’s got a great sound. She said Aunt Anna used to give piano lessons.”
“Would you like to take lessons again?”
“Yeah, I guess. If Aunt Anna could give them to me.”
“You don’t want Mikala to?”
“I’m already seeing her for…other stuff.”
Dawson hesitated. “If you ever want to talk about the other stuff, I’m here.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Luke muttered and buttoned his lips up tight as if to prove the point.
Dawson waited, hoping Luke would say something else. He knew better than to push. That was a sure way to silence his son.
The road leading to the rink through the foothills of Moonshadow Mountain consisted of only two lanes. Plowed snow banks along the sides narrowed it further. With the snowfall thick, almost at blizzard proportions now, Dawson stared straight ahead.
Though his attention was divided between the road and Luke, they’d gone a little ways when Luke whispered, “How can you see?”
“The windshield wipers are clearing enough of a space.” He dared a longer look at Luke who appeared a little pale. “Are you okay?”
Luke didn’t answer.
“Luke, is something wrong? Don’t you feel well?”
“I’m fine,” Luke responded, but Dawson could tell he wasn’t. His hands were clenched into fists and his face was tense in a way a ten-year-old’s should never be. This was their first drive in the snow. Kelly had driven in snow or ice or something the night she’d died. Was Luke remembering that event? Should he ask?
“I’m a good driver, Luke. The SUV has four-wheel drive. We’re safe on these roads.”
Luke gave his father a turmoiled look. “That’s what Mom must have thought,” he murmured.
If he could have, Dawson would have pulled off the road and pulled his son into a tight embrace. But there was no shoulder with the snow piled up, so he did the next best thing. He reached over and clasped Luke’s arm. Luke didn’t move and he didn’t say anything, either. As the antilock brakes took hold on the curve, Dawson needed to keep two han
ds on the wheel again.
He drove carefully the rest of the way to the Purple Pansy, wondering if they’d made any progress today at all.
* * *
After Luke caught the school bus the following morning, Dawson sat at the kitchen table, his laptop open, his mind on work. The internet connection for his laptop was better down here. After two video conferences, one with his father, and one with a foreman, he turned his attention to the numbers on the balance sheet. Although he was in Miners Bluff, although his father was managing the crews, he intended to stay up to date on every bit of it.
The kitchen door opened and Mikala came in. His heart pounded harder. They hadn’t spent any time together since their talk in her studio. He often sat here working so she didn’t seem surprised to see him. She motioned toward the coffeepot. “Just back for a refill.”
“What are you up to today?” He stood and went over to the coffeepot, bringing his mug with him.
“Catching up on chart work. I take lots of notes in session and I have to make sure they’re legible and in order.”
He could feel that powerful tugging toward her again. He was almost used to fighting it now…almost.
They reached for the coffeepot at the same time, their fingers tangling. She pulled back and so did he, but not before something akin to an electric shock jolted them both. It had nothing to do with static electricity.
He might as well tell her about the phone call he’d received from Zack and see how she felt about a party at the Rocky D. “I got a call from Zack last night.”
“I got one from Jenny,” she admitted.
“About the party?”
“Yes. I think they want to celebrate their wedding all over again and so does Silas.”
Mikala went to the fridge, added milk to her coffee, then set it on the counter and looked up at Dawson. “Are you going?”
“I’d like to. I want to wish Zack and Jenny the best. I spoke with Anna this morning after breakfast about going. She said she’d be glad to stay with Luke for the evening. Do you think that will be okay? I don’t want him to think I’m deserting him.”
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