Taking Chances

by Taylor, Janelle

  “I see your dilemma. But you two seem to get along fantastically.”

  “Yes. Sometimes we tease each other like kids. But having a good time and great sex aren’t all there is to a permanent relationship. There’ll be hard times in marriage, too. How will he deal with those? Run and hide again? Become bitter and miserable? Make us both miserable?”

  “I think you’re right about him dealing with his troubles first. You don’t want him bringing excess baggage into your relationship. Do you like it well enough there to settle in and be happy, really happy, Kirstin?”

  “I’m not sure. Some things bother me. I wish people like Carla and Lance would mind their own affairs and not begrudge us this little time together. Christopher hasn’t said anything, but I sense he’s annoyed by the rumors that are going around this tight-knit community. Surely he realized he couldn’t keep my extended presence a secret when he coaxed me to stay! Five remaining days … Should I stay until next Thursday or leave early?”

  “That’s a decision only you can make, Kirstin. And Christopher.”

  Christopher got home from his poker game at two in the morning. Kirstin was asleep in the guest bed. He had uncharacteristically drunk a great deal of liquor, and he didn’t want to talk; he wasn’t even in the mood to make love to her. Tonight, he had become aware of the rampant gossip about him and Kirstin. He mentally fluctuated between not giving a damn what anyone thought and fury over being the subject of rumor. Several times during the evening it had been impossible to control his temper when some of the men had made crude jokes about Kirstin and their intimate relationship. He wasn’t accustomed to boyish teasing and it rankled. He yanked off his clothes and fell into bed.

  The incident returned to plague him and deny him sleep. He had almost slugged Lance Reynolds when the divorced man asked Kirstin’s measurements and how much pleasure she gave on the examining table, then jested about the advantage of having a female patient with her looks and figure. When Christopher alleged he was still observing her, Bill Hainsley had remarked he would like to observe a woman like that if he weren’t married. The five men had laughed. Then, David Carson had asked how long she would “hang around being observed.”

  Christopher gritted his teeth and snarled, “Until I say she’s ready to leave. Does anyone have a problem with that diagnosis or doubt my ethics?”

  The men went silent until David spoke up to say they were only kidding around. Bill asked if Christopher was falling in love with her.

  Christopher choked on his drink and stared at the nosy rancher. His gaze traveled around the table as they waited in suspense to hear his answer. He finally growled, “That’s none of your damn business.”

  The men exchanged curious looks, then grinned in assumption. Lance couldn’t resist asking if “the lovely patient” felt the same way.

  Christopher slammed his fist on the table, causing full glasses to slosh liquid on it. He told them to change the subject or he was leaving, that his private life was his own business.

  “This is a small town, Chris,” Tom had pointed out. “Frolicking might go on without notice in big cities but not around here. Natural curiosity.”

  “Then maybe I don’t belong around here,” he thundered. “If a man can’t have privacy in his own home, he needs to move on where he can.” That statement ended the distressing conversation.

  The men played cards—in near silence—for another hour. Christopher drove home at a slow and cautious pace to allow himself time to think and settle down, and to scold himself for drinking so heavily. If he refused to take Kirstin anywhere again, he worried, would she be angry? If he did, would someone offend her, drive her away from here and him? Damn people and their nosy ways! The only good thing to come from the evening was news that Lance wasn’t seeing Linda Shaw anymore and risking the destruction of her and Timmy’s lives; the Don Juan was hooked onto Carla Thompson now, who seemed to be reciprocating his interest. That, he decided, was a perfect match!

  In the morning Kirstin noticed Christopher’s strange mood. She chatted and pretended to ignore it, assuming he had drunk too much and perhaps lost too much money last night. As they ate lunch, she worried over his continued near silence and preoccupied expression. If it wasn’t a hangover, she fretted, what was wrong with him today? When she questioned if he was feeling all right, he claimed only to be tired.

  For the next three days, Kirstin was surprised each time Christopher asked for her assistance in his office with patients or secretarial work, and when he asked for help or her company during his ranch chores. She wondered if it was meant to entice her to stay there with him, as he didn’t verbalize his thoughts and feelings. He was eager to make love to her as many times, places, and ways as she would allow.

  Kirstin stayed in a good mood, as things with Christopher were glorious though a little guarded at times. She was doing well with her health, avoiding hypoglycemic attacks with extra snacks and glucose tablets when additional exertions drained her energy between meals. She chatted with Katie about her imminent arrival, and was eager to see her daughter.

  Christopher suggested a private farewell picnic before her departure. They rode off on horseback to the pond. She was delighted when he unpacked a delicious meal- he’d purchased that morning in town: fried chicken, potato salad, rolls, carrot sticks, and diet drinks. They laughed and chatted while they ate or fed each other.

  After they finished the main course, he removed the last item from the basket: a sugar-free cake he’d had baked for the special event.

  “Christopher, it’s too pretty to eat. You’re so thoughtful and clever.” With misty eyes, she kissed him, long and deep. “What did the cook say when you ordered one with a wrecked red car on it?”

  He caressed her cheek and stroked her tawny hair. “She didn’t ask. I thought it appropriate since it symbolizes how we met.” He picked a decorative headlight from the cake and popped it into her mouth. “It’s also low fat, so you can stuff yourself with as much of it as you want. Shall I be your slave and feed you?”

  She scooped icing onto a finger and slipped it into his mouth. “Be my royal taster instead and make sure it isn’t loaded with aphrodisiac,” she said. “Of course, I could use some lately to keep up with you. You have a powerful appetite, Doc.”

  Christopher held her finger in his mouth and licked on it. “I have to stay busy to stock up on you before tomorrow. Besides, you wouldn’t want to risk leaving me with such a large and tempting supply of little balloons.”

  She punched him in playfulness.

  “You better not sleep with anyone but me!”

  Christopher grasped her hands and pulled her down atop him. “I’d like to smear that icing all over you and lick it off, slow and easy.” His hand went behind her head to pull her lips within reach. He sealed their mouths and kissed her with longing. He rolled her to her back on the blanket and began to caress her with urgency. “I want you, woman,” he murmured amidst groans of desire.

  The kissing and stroking continued for a short time until Kirstin realized they were both becoming too passionate for the outdoor setting. “Whew, we’d better stop while we still can.”

  As he nibbled on her earlobe and trekked down her neck, he said, “I don’t want to stop. Let’s shuck these clothes. I want to feel you against me. I want to be inside you, now.”

  “This isn’t the time or place. Stop that,” she told him when he tried to unbutton her shirt. “Let’s eat some of the cake.”

  “What I want to feast on is you, woman, and I’m ravenous.”

  “Later, Christopher.”

  To Kirstin’s dismay, he tried to make love to her. “I told you last time, Christopher, I can’t do that here in the open in daylight. Frank or your other workers could catch us. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  To her surprise, he announced that a dip in the cold water would soothe his fiery body and improve his spirit. He stripped and dove into the pond.

  Kirstin drew up her knees to her chest and
encircled them with her arms. She watched him swim back and forth, analyzing his odd behavior. Suddenly the thudding of horse’s hooves caught her attention. She turned to see Frank Graham riding toward the pond. Without thinking how this situation would appear to him, she sighed in relief that they weren’t making love. Then, realizing that Christopher was frolicking in the nude, she flushed. She couldn’t face the foreman in that risqué situation, so she stood and began walking toward the low hill that partially hid the house.

  Frank spotted her and veered his horse in that direction. When he reined in, Kirstin shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. She laughed and explained her hasty departure, “Christopher wanted to swim for a while, so I thought I should give him privacy.”

  Frank glanced toward the pond. “My boss needs some manners, Kirstin. He’s so used to doin’ as he pleases, he forgets ‘em sometimes. On the other hand, he probably ain’t thinking straight with you leaving tomorrow, probably needs to clear his head. I’ve never seen him so happy an’ unbent since he moved here. We all hate to see you pull out. I hope you’ll come back for lots of visits.”

  “Thank you, Frank, that’s very kind of you.”

  “You’ll get to meet Helen next time; you two will get along well. I’ve told her all about you an’ what you’ve done for Chris. You’ve brought a lot of sunshine to the boss’s life; he’s gonna miss you sumpthin’ fierce. He loves this place, but Doc ain’t no rancher at heart. What he needs is to get back into that other doctoring where he belongs. ‘Course he’s stubborn and won’t admit it, not after such foul luck with his hand. Ever’ time we’re doin’ chores, all he can talk about is you. Won’t be the same around here without you.”

  “I’ve enjoyed my stay, and I hope to see you again soon. Please tell Helen I’m sorry I missed meeting her. She keeps a fine house for Christopher.”

  “Yore mighty kind-hearted, Kirstin, a good match for Chris. I’m headin’ to the barn to fetch some tools we need for repairs. Want a ride home? It’s too far an’ hot for a long walk this time of day.”

  Kirstin smiled in appreciation and nodded. He moved his boot for her to step up and offered his hand for assistance. Nimble, Kirstin placed her foot in the stirrup, grasped his hand, and swung up behind him. She was amazed by the things he had revealed to her and tucked them away in her heart.

  The foreman yelled, “Chris, I’m givin’ Kirstin a lift to the house. We’ll see you later.” After Christopher waved to show he’d heard, they galloped away.

  Christopher realized her worries had been proven accurate. Once more, he’d behaved like a fool! What had gotten into him? He almost had insisted she surrender to him! Kirstin wasn’t an object; she was a person, the woman he loved and wanted. It was crazy to treat her like that and was evident she was annoyed with him, enough to leave the pond and his company. She was probably heading home to pack and run. Pack and run? his mind repeated and panic seized him.

  He left the pond and yanked on his clothes, struggling and cursing as his wet body resisted his urgency. He didn’t bother to load the basket and take it home, just leapt into the saddie and kneed the horse into a swift pace. If she was hurt and angry, she might toss her stuff in the car and leave before he could stop her and apologize. At the corral, he jumped off the horse, removed the saddle, and turned the Appaloosa free. The ride had been short, so the animal could go without a curry. He covered the distance between the barn and house as fast as possible.

  Kirstin was in the kitchen. He halted inside the doorway and- watched her as he asked what she was doing.

  Without turning, she replied, “Putting on a meatloaf for supper. Does that suit you? Or do you hate them like Steve does? I should have asked first.”

  “Everything you cook is delicious. You’ve spoiled me. Even Helen can’t hold a candle to you … Kirstin, about before, I’m sorry.. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I think you’re taking me and our situation for granted. I didn’t refuse you because I didn’t want you. Since Frank did show up, you must admit my point was valid. It would have been wonderful to make love out there; it’s a very romantic spot. But it isn’t private. You should have seen me trying to explain why you were swimming in the nude with a lady present.”

  “What did he say?” Christopher asked, settling down because it seemed she wasn’t rushing to escape him prematurely.

  She revealed the excuse she’d used with the foreman. “I just don’t want things spoiled between us, especially on our last day together for now.”

  Thank you, Lord, for those last two words. “Did I spoil them?”

  “Not exactly. But you will if you start acting like that every time we’re together and we can’t make love when the mood strikes you.”

  “But you wanted me, too; I could feel it.”

  She put the pan into the oven, set the controls, and turned to face him. “Don’t be stubborn. You were wrong. Why can’t you admit it?”

  “I can admit it; I was selfish, inconsiderate, and wrong. Not wrong to want you, but wrong to press you like that. Satisfied?”

  “Your words are fine, but your attitude’s not. It has been strange, off and on, since the poker game. You can talk to me. What’s really bothering you?” she asked as she came to stand beside him. “Please, talk to me.”

  He cupped her face between his hands. “I don’t want you to leave tomorrow, Kirstin. I want more time with you.”

  She stared at him. “But I have to go to work Monday and I need time to settle into my apartment. I can’t ask for more time off from a new job. Why don’t you come to visit on my first weekend there? We could have fun exploring San Diego together.”

  “It won’t be the same here after you leave. I’ve gotten very attached to you and used to having you around. Meeting in between here and there every few weeks doesn’t give us enough time together. I want you to stay.”

  No vow of love or proposal of marriage, just move in with me? “I can’t, Christopher,” she responded, more to her thoughts than his words.

  “Why? Because you don’t feel the same way about me?”

  “I don’t know how you feel, Christopher; you haven’t told me.”

  “I love you and want you to stay.”

  “You love me?”

  “I thought you realized that by now.”

  “I’m not a mind reader.”

  “Neither am I” he hinted.

  “I love you, too, and I wish I could move here. But it wouldn’t be right.”

  “If we’re married, it will be, won’t it?”

  “You’re proposing to me?”

  “Yes. Will you marry me, Kirstin Lowrey? Tomorrow?”

  “I … Oh, heavens, this is so sudden, two revelations in almost the same breath. We’ve only known each other for three weeks; we need time to make sure this isn’t just infatuation. We need time to get to know each other better. Besides, I’m moving to San Diego. Would you come with me and work there?”

  “What?”

  “Move to San Diego and work there.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “If you really love me, you’ll stay here and marry me.”

  “If you really love me, you’ll come with me. We can both make a fresh start in a new place, away from our losses. Make a place of our own, Christopher, a place without bad memories or ties to the past. Why must I prove my love by staying? Why can’t you prove yours by going? Why is my career and life less important than yours? If I thought you were truly happy and fulfilled here, I wouldn’t ask this of you. In San Diego, I’ll have my work and you can have yours. Here in New Mexico, I can’t.”

  His hands dropped from her face. “I can’t work there, Kirstin. Nobody wants a doctor or a researcher or teacher with a near useless hand.”

  “You’ve proven that isn’t true, to me and to the people here.”

  “It isn’t the same in a big city; the competition is fierce; patients want the best. I’m no longer the best; I
’m barely competent in some areas.”

  “You’re’ strong, intelligent, skilled, and brave; you can make things work there just as you did here. Give it a try.”

  “I don’t belong out there anymore.”

  “You belong where you want to belong, where you carve out a place for yourself, for us. You aren’t the only one with a problem and challenge. When will you learn,” she reasoned in a gentle tone, “that your loss isn’t the end of the world and it isn’t humiliating to ask for and receive help from others? It isn’t a defeat to go into teaching or research or to become a GP elsewhere. Why must you hide out here, refusing to heal, refusing help from others?”

  “You don’t understand what I’ve been through, what I’ve lost.”

  “Your medical problem isn’t any more frustrating, angering, debilitating, or life-controlling than mine…is.”

  He balled one fist at his side, but the left one wouldn’t close, as usual. His fingers teased over numb areas. “You have the use of both hands.”

  “Yes, but my body is like my enemy, my challenge, my loss.”

  “But you can still practice your chosen career with diabetes.”

  “I can in San Diego. Not here. Your condition can’t cost you that limb or your vision or your life. At any time, serious complications could-”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “Not saying it or thinking it doesn’t change what’s true. But you can change and control your destiny. You, we, can have a wonderful future if you’ll only let go of the bitterness and accept your limitation. If you can’t have all of a dream, take what part of it you can. Find a new goal and challenge. Don’t keep burying yourself. Don’t be less than you can be. Come with me; build and share a new life with me. Don’t ask me to. come into seclusion with you where I’ll be denied my other love. We could work together in research; I can be your other hand when you need one. I can help you learn to use your right one better.”