“No you aren’t, but you don’t want to risk breaking bones.”
She jested, “Just adapt to a rocking chair and Granniehood to protect my health?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve had fun hiking and camping, and you’ve taken proper care of yourself during them. Horseback riding doesn’t zap your sugar and lots of other activities wouldn’t, either. I’m glad we met the Peters; Corky is teaching you a lot.”
“You seem to have hit it off with Larry, too. I overheard some of the information he’s been stuffing inside your head about campers. You’ll be prepared for anything after you purchase yours.”
“You’ll trust me better during trips after I’m well trained, right?”
“I trust you on this one. You’re doing fine; no, great. You look born to that RV seat just like you do to the saddle.”
“Ranching isn’t my career by choice, but I like it.” He fibbed because he didn’t want her to think he hated his life and was consumed by bitterness. Besides, he had no choice but to accept his existence.
Once more, Kirstin steered the subject away from the loss of his career and his torment by asking, “What’s in this area?”
As they rolled past the turn-off for Sunspot, Christopher related facts about the solar observatory built there and the annual Futurity at nearby Ruidoso Downs; he suggested they make the last one a future adventure. He talked about the first A-Bomb site at Trinity.
The couples reached Alamogordo where the International Space Hall of Fame and Space Center were located. They parked side-by-side at a complex that was backed by the picturesque cliffs of the Sacramento Mountains and overlooked White Sands Missile Range. The awesome structure—a huge golden glass tube— was outlined in glorious splendor against a blue sky and had been built in honor of men who had dared to take chances on and beyond Earth. They got out of the vehicles to visit the outdoor displays, theater, and planetarium.
They ended the exciting day at the Oliver Lee State Park, south of town. There was enough light left to tour the visitor’s center and historic exhibits, many of them having to do with ranching and Indian battles. It was a cool evening, and their jackets felt good during their stroll.
Following pork chops on the grill and several games of cards, the two couples separated for the night, to meet at nine to head for White Sands.
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Christopher asked Kirstin.
Kirstin replied, “Very much. The scenery was so beautiful and varied: caves and desert to mountains and sand dunes. I can hardly wait to see the view tomorrow. The boys will like those little rockets I bought them today; I’ll mail them from the ranch.”
“White Sands will be different from how it looks on TV when the shuttle lands. I wish John and Maria were with us. You would have liked seeing the Mescalero Reservation. We can go there another time, okay?”
“I hope so.” Let’s see if you keep your promises.
Christopher’s lips and hands roamed Kirstin. She sighed in contentment. If only I weren’t so afraid of telling you how I feel about you, afraid you aren’t as serious about me as I am about you.
Within moments, neither one could think of anything except each other and their fiery lovemaking.
Kirstin stared at the setting before her. “It looks as if the ground is covered with snow as far as you can see,” she murmured. “The brochure says it’s a two-hundred-seventy square-’ mile ocean of gypsum crystals and borders alkali flats.”
The tawny-and-green landscape halted suddenly and became a blanket of stark white stretching beyond visual capacity. A mountain range in a bluish haze created a magnificent backdrop on one side. They left their RVs at the visitor’s center to drive in the Peters’s car to the Heart of Sands Loop and Big Dune Trail. Undulating dunes glittered beneath the sun, occasionally too brilliant to look at without sunglasses. Some areas were flat; others rose and fell in wondrous beauty, a few, at great heights. Some were barren; some were dotted with tenacious greenery: saltbush, yucca, iodine bush, squawbush, and soaptree. Many places lay in waves like a pristine beach or an ebbing tide.
As the two couples stood atop one dune and gazed over the rugged terrain, they saw round ones, short ones, tall ones, and some with lumpy ridges and sharp crests. They noticed the countless footprints of visitors that would soon be concealed by blasts of wind.
When their tour was over, they snacked at the visitor’s center and chatted before parting for what might be the last time. They exchanged addresses and hopes of getting together again in the future.
Kirstin wished she could tell the perky redhead the truth, that she’d be heading for her home in San Diego soon. She liked Corky Peters and wanted to deepen their friendship, but that wouldn’t be possible without a confession of her deceit. Corky had a glow about her that had nothing to do with health, a smile that was genuine and warm, and an outgoing personality. She wanted this genial relationship to continue and was dismayed that would be denied her.
Corky gave one last piece of advice: “Don’t kid yourself, Kirstin: you’ll have bad times and feelings, but anger and frustration and upsets are normal for us. Stay positive and confident and don’t let anything or anyone get you down.”
The women embraced and said another farewell. The two rigs pulled out of the parking lot, one heading southwest and one northeast.
Christopher and Kirstin crossed the Apache reservation, rode through the national forest, passed Roswell, and in less than four hours arrived back at the ranch. During the drive, they chatted about the trip, their new friends, the sights they passed, and plans for the next nine days before Kirstin was to depart for San Diego.
Christopher unloaded their belongings and checked his answering machine and medical service before he returned the rented camper and retrieved his vehicle.’ He took the precaution of going alone in case men were around who might tease them and embarrass Kirstin.
During his absence, Kirstin phoned Katie. Her daughter was out, so she left a message announcing their safe return. She then unpacked their food and possessions, and put supper on to cook.
While Christopher was checking on his elderly heart patient at the Clovis hospital the next day, Kirstin wrote Sandi and Steve, but only the letter to the girl revealed news about Christopher. Her son’s enlightenment should come in conversation when the time was right. She also sent letters to her two best friends in Augusta, as she couldn’t phone them during working hours or at night while the major subject of interest was present; she told them she would call when she reached California. She wrapped the children and grandchildren’s gifts to mail the next day. Then, she did some light house tasks. She knew Christopher had called Peggy from his office last night, but he hadn’t shared their talk with her. She hoped no new trouble had arisen with his daughter. She dreaded the thought that if things worked out between her and Christopher they would have problems with Peggy and Steve.
It was after five when Christopher arrived home. He told her he’d stopped to chat with John and they’d discussed camping and RVs. Again, he suggested they look at recreational vehicles before her departure. Kirstin smiled and agreed.
Wednesday, Christopher saw several patients. After the last one left, Kirstin went to ask if there was anything she could do to help with charts and clean-up chores. The well-oiled storm door didn’t make noise when she opened it and entered the front room. She heard his voice, but knew it was on a recorder. She peeked into his office and saw him sitting at his computer, his back to her.
Kirstin observed him and realized what he was doing. He had joked days ago about his writing with his right hand being illegible and the task impossible with his disabled one. The few times she’d assisted with patients, she had seen him dictate notes about them into a small machine which he kept in his pocket. He played and replayed the information unit so he could type it into his computer, mostly using a singlehanded pecking. Following each entry, he printed out the sheet, placed it in a patient’s chart, and put it in the
file cabinet nearby.
Kirstin’s heart was panged by the extra work created by his problem. She was tempted to offer to do the typing and filing for him, then decided it wasn’t wise to cast additional light on his disability. He could use a secretary to do typing, billing, and insurance filing, a nurse to assist with patients, set up for them, sterilize instruments afterward, give shots, and help with treatments he couldn’t perform. He seemed to have adjusted to her assistance but was reluctant and too proud to display his troubles before others.
She sneaked from the small building. Why must you hide out in this wilderness and refuse to heal, refuse to accept your loss, refuse help from others? You aren’t the only one who’s lost a career, a spouse, or a dream. You have to find replacements, as I’m doing. Your medical problem isn’t any more frustrating, angering or debilitating than mine is. You can have a wonderful life if you’ll only let go of the bitterness. If you can’t have all of a dream, take what part of it you can or find a new goal. Don’t bury yourself here in self-pity. Don’t be less than you can be. I’ve seen those scrapbooks hidden in your closet; you have so much to give to medicine and surgery. Don’t be selfish with your skills and knowledge. Come with me, Christopher; build and share a new dream with me. Don’t ask me to go into hiding here with you.
Christopher suddenly called her name.
“I’m over here near the barn!” she yelled back to him.
After he joined her, Kirstin started to tell him what she’d been thinking, but decided she didn’t have the right to intrude in such a personal matter since he hadn’t revealed matching feelings. Perhaps when he was confronted with losing her, it would open his eyes. Then, she resolved she would speak the truth.
Christopher stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His heart and body warmed when she placed her hands over his and leaned against his chest. It wouldn’t hurt, he decided, to give hints about his feelings. “Have I told you how special you are, woman? You’ve come to mean a lot to me. I hate to see you leave when we’re getting along so well, but I know you must. I hope things can continue for us after you go. Good women are hard to find.”
Kirstin was disappointed by some of his words: “continue like this” and “Good women.” He didn’t even hint about her staying. “I feel the same way, Christopher. You’ve been a big help to me. I’ve had a wonderful time here with you. I want our friendship to stay strong.”
“If we don’t let obstacles get in the way, it will. As soon as you’re settled in San Diego, we’ll make plans for our next camping trip. Okay?”
“Perfect.” She freed herself and turned to him. “Time to eat,” she said.
He drew her into his “embrace and nibbled at her ear. “Supper isn’t the food I had in mind right now.”
She laughed and teased, “Aren’t you the one who harps about me sticking to my regimen?”
“You’re doing fine, thanks to Corky’s help. You no longer need a full-time doctor at your beck and call. With the reduction in medication and fill-in tablets, you’ve had no more problems with hypoglycemia.”
“Thanks to your help, too, Doc; I wouldn’t be better without it. Am I being released?”
“Only medically.” He kissed her forehead. “I still need you for other things.”
“Like this?” she murmured as she nuzzled his neck and rubbed a flattened palm over the hardness in his jeans.
He grinned. “You’ve become a bold creature, Kirstin Lowrey.”
“You’re to blame, or due the credit.” She continued to stroke his maleness and thrilled to her effect on him.
Kirstin worried that someone might drive up or the foreman might ride over and catch them being intimate, outside and in daylight. “Why don’t we go inside?” she suggested.
A chuckling Christopher scooped her up and headed for the house. “I’m going to rush you to bed before you change your mind or we’re interrupted.”
“How do you know that’s what I had in mind?”
“What else? You have to stock up on me before you leave.”
“What if I’m insatiable, Doc?”
“Where I’m concerned, I truly hope so.”
He used her thigh to close the kitchen door, then fumbled with the lock to shut out anyone who might disturb them. He carried her to his bed and laid her there. Soon, they were out of their clothes and consumed by passion’s delights.
A full moon shone overhead as they returned home from John and Maria’s the following night. Kirstin said, “I feel light-headed and bubbly. That Mexican food was delicious, and the sugar-free cookies were out of this world. If I hung around much longer, I’d be fat and sassy, and my doctor would kill us both. You have nice friends, Christopher. I’m going to miss those two.”
“Only if you never return for visits. You promised you would.”
“I did, and I will, as many times as you invite me.”
“You have a standing invitation, woman, so don’t wait for a spoken word.”
“What if you’re entertaining when I make a surprise arrival?”
“If you’re not with me, I won’t be.”
“Doctor Harrison, I’ve gotten very accustomed and attached to you. I’m looking forward to carrying out all of our plans.”
So am I, my love, so am I.
As they cuddled in bed together, Christopher told her, “I usually play poker with friends every fourth Friday night of the month. Would you like me to cancel so we can eat out or take in a movie or something?”
“No, you keep your regular schedule. You need to see your friends. I don’t want everyone to think I’m hogging you. I can’t make a good impression on them if they believe I’m stealing you away from your life here, much as I enjoy your company.”
Christopher almost took her provocative bait, but held his revealing reply. Not yet, old boy. Wait until -it’s closer to her leaving time to declare your love and propose marriage. If she loves you and you’re worth more to her than a research career, she’ll accept and stay. Six more days to convince her, here with me is where she belongs.
Fifteern
After Christopher left, Kirstin realized eighteen mostly glorious days had passed on the Harrison Ranch; her departure date loomed on the near horizon. She settled on the den sofa to watch television. She felt strange in the house tonight, out of place and alone, an intruder. Even with a noisy program on the set, a curious silence plagued her. Maybe it was because nothing here was hers. She phoned Elaine in Augusta.
“Hi, I thought you weren’t going to call again until you reached San Diego. I just got your letter today and it was oozing with happiness, you lucky thing. I’m jealous … Is something wrong, Kirstin?”
“I’m not sure. Are you busy?”
“I’m not going out until nine, so talk. What’s up? Where’s the sexy doctor?”
“Out with the boys, a monthly poker game.”
“He left you alone on a Friday night? Is he neglecting you already, the cad? What fills your days on that ranch?”
Kirstin didn’t take offense to the query, which was similar to Lance’s; Elaine cared, was worried about her, and was helping her begin a difficult conversation. “We cook and eat most meals together, and he helps with washing dishes and other chores. He runs his errands and buys the groceries; he’s good at it, too. I tidy up the house or do laundry while he does ranch chores or sees patients. I’ve assisted him a few times with a difficult or frightened one, or when he can’t do what’s needed because of his injured hand. I told you about those in my letter.”
“He sounds like a jewel, a liberated male. So, what else keeps you two occupied?”
“We go riding. He has some beautiful horses. He’s given me tours of his land and the surrounding area. It’s nothing like Georgia, almost like a desert. I tag along sometimes when he tends the horses. We talk about everything—except us. We’ve gone out alone or double-dated with his best friends. That camping trip I mentioned and meeting the Peters was wonderful. Some nights we play
games or watch TV; others, we listen to music or walk in the moonlight.”
Kirstin gave more details about the things she had mentioned earlier or in past letters. “It’s almost as if we’re a true couple and this is our home.”
“So, what’s wrong with that setup? You’ve captured a real prize, nut. Go with the flow and enjoy him.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing. I suppose I’m floundering because I’ve never done anything like this before. Christopher seems to like things the way they are, but I’m scared and nervous. I don’t know where this thing is leading, if anywhere. Marriage is such a serious commitment.”
“Marriage? Has he proposed to you?”
“No, but I think he’s trying to show me he cares without using words; I could be misreading his signals. I have so many questions. Should I reveal my love and take a chance he feels the same way? Take a risk on being happy as a housewife? Take a bigger one on Steve and Peggy not objecting?” She related the girl’s telephone call and his reaction. “How can I know what I’ll be missing at Medico if I don’t work there for a while? Besides, I gave them my word, Elaine, and I’ve cost them a bundle. Will things work out if Christopher never “accepts the loss of his surgical career? Would I only become his shadow and make him more determined to stay rooted on his ranch?”
“How is he acting? What’s he saying?”
Kirstin related some of the hints he had made about his feelings and plans. “Yesterday at John and Maria’s, he was so relaxed and cheerful that they commented on my good effect on him and coaxed me to return often to make sure it continued. I watched him play with their children and I could picture him tussling with my three grandsons. I wish he could play golf with Steve and Cliff, but he can’t because of his hand. I want my family to meet him, and for him to meet them. I need to see how they get along. I need to meet Peggy and win her over. I want him to discuss and consider working elsewhere. I need those things to happen and to get answers before I can make a decision about a life with him.”
Taking Chances Page 29