Time was what allowed Nate to be comfortable helping Kit now. Right after their breakup, his emotions would have been too raw, and he wouldn’t have been able to be around her as he was now. She needed him to be a friend, and that was exactly what he would be. Just a friend. Nothing more.
* * *
“I think the planning meeting went pretty well. What do you think?” Kathleen asked as she settled into the front passenger seat in Nate’s truck later Saturday morning.
“Too smoothly. The kids loved everything we talked about. The show. The square dancing contest. They agreed to everything. Teens don’t do that. Also we have a good game plan for how to use the time we have left before the fund-raiser. We may actually be able to pull it off.” He drove away from the church. “Should I be worried?”
“My only experience with kids comes from my niece and nephew, and they aren’t teens yet. Still, I don’t see any reason why we should be concerned. They’re a good group of kids. And if something goes wrong, we’ll deal with it. Most of the people attending the Western Shindig will be from the church. They’ll understand if there are a few problems.” She relaxed back and surveyed the area. “We’re going the wrong way. Shouldn’t we get something to eat near the high school where the auditions will be held?”
“I have to meet Abbey Winters at the animal hospital. One of the dogs at Caring Canines hurt his leg. Her dad is out of town for a long weekend, so I’m on call if there’s an emergency.”
“So that was the call you received at the end of the meeting. I’m glad Dr. Harris is getting some time off. I don’t know how he ran his practice without your help.”
“I won’t be surprised if he takes on another vet in the next year or so.” Nate parked at the side of the animal hospital. “This shouldn’t be too long. Abbey and Emma pour a lot of time into the dogs they train. I want to make sure the dog is okay.”
Kathleen smiled and thought about this morning waking up with Lexie sprawled out next to her on her bed. When Kathleen moved, the poodle was instantly up and greeted her with a wagging tail. It had immediately lifted her spirits, along with the thought that she had a busy day ahead, which always gave her something to look forward to. She’d missed that since the accident.
“I haven’t told you—” she glanced away “—but Lexie was the right call for me.” When she returned her look to his face, appreciation marked her expression. “Thank you for thinking of it. I wouldn’t have, and it’s great having her there at the cabin with me.” Kathleen exited the pickup.
Nate met her at the front of the Silverado to walk in the side door. “I love my Great Dane, although sometimes he can get a bit overzealous when he greets me. Usually when I’ve been gone a long time.”
“This will be Lexie’s first test of how she deals with separation. The past three days she’s been by my side. She even went riding with me yesterday—or rather she ran beside Cinnamon and me.”
“To the ridge?” He moved inside behind her so she didn’t see his expression.
But she could hear the concern in his voice. She peered over her shoulder at him. “Yes. But to make you feel better, I didn’t go up to the top. I’m waiting for my new prosthetic leg, which is geared for that type of activity. On Thursday I went to be fit for one.”
“Good.” Relief eased the anxious look on his face.
Madi stood in the hallway to the exam rooms with Abbey. The little girl saw him and hurried toward him, frowning, her eyes shiny. “Dr. Nate, Spanky got out of his fenced area when I opened the door. I chased him, and when he jumped over the stream out back, he didn’t make it across. His front leg hit a stone. He’s been whimpering and limping. I tried to catch him before he got outside.”
Nate laid his hand on Madi’s shoulder. “I know you tried. It’s not your fault. He’s high-spirited and obviously needs more training.”
Abbey stepped forward, extending her hand to Kathleen. “I’m Abbey Winters, Madi’s sister-in-law. You must be Kathleen Somers. Madi talked and talked about you Tuesday night. She’s excited you’re going to be watching the auditions.”
“I’ll be cheering her and my niece on.”
“Where’s Spanky?” Nate asked as he passed them in the hallway.
“Exam room two. I’ll come with you and hold him while you check him over.” Abbey glanced back at Madi. “Why don’t you sit in the reception area and keep Miss Somers company?”
As Nate and Abbey entered the second door on the right, Madi led Kathleen to the empty reception area. Kathleen took a chair, but the child paced, twisting her hands together.
“Dr. Nate will fix up Spanky.” Kathleen hoped to calm the tension pouring off the girl.
She stopped and faced Kathleen. “I know he will. He’s the best, but I’m scared Abbey will decide not to keep training Spanky. He’ll do great one moment, then suddenly do whatever he wants. A service and therapy dog has to be obedient, and he’s flunking that.”
“Not all dogs are cut out to be service or therapy dogs.”
“I know.” Madi’s shoulders slumped. “He was a stray. He won’t have a home.”
“Maybe you could find him one. Do you have a friend who wants a dog? Ask around at school.”
Madi’s expression brightened. “I might.” A smile splashed across her face. “I was so worried because I don’t think Abbey and Dominic would let me take in another animal.”
“You take in strays?”
“When I can. I’m the one who found Spanky and talked Abbey into training him.” Madi began pacing again, glancing at the clock over the reception desk.
“You’ll make it to the audition in time. You have an hour before you have to be there.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
The child’s face showed every emotion she felt. It reminded Kathleen of herself at that age. As she became an adult, she’d learned to hide what she was feeling most of the time—except when she danced. Then she let everything flow from her heart.
“Madi, what’s the problem?”
“I’m trying to remember my dance. I can’t. I don’t think...” The girl’s voice faded. She scrunched her forehead, her eyes narrowed as though in deep thought.
“Do you have your ballet slippers with you?”
“In the car.”
“Go get them and put them on.”
“Why?”
“Every time I’ve thought I’ve forgotten my dance it all came back to me when I put my pointe shoes on. See if that’ll work for you.” Kathleen could remember how panicky she would get right before a big performance. Giving Madi something to do rather than worrying about her audition would hopefully help her.
Madi raced from the reception area and was back in a couple of minutes with her shoes in hand. She plopped into a chair and quickly donned her ballet slippers.
“Now why don’t you show me your dance? I’d love to get a preview.”
Madi’s eyes bugged out. “Really?”
“I can give you some pointers if you want.”
“You’ll teach me?” Madi grinned widely.
Kathleen nodded. “Imagine the music you’re dancing to is playing and start whenever you’re ready. Be sure your arms follow through each move you make.”
A faraway look appeared on Madi’s face, and suddenly she began. After a final pirouette, she ended with her right foot pointed on the floor in front of her and her arms curved softly above her head.
Kathleen clapped. “Bravo. Nice work, especially extending your arms when you needed to.”
Madi beamed.
When Abbey and Nate came into the reception area, Madi whirled around. “I did my dance for her. Kathleen Somers. I can’t believe it—she liked it.”
The first time Kathleen had had her dancing complimented by a world-renowned prima ballerina in
New York, she’d had that same excitement and smile on her face. She was humbled by Madi. Kathleen wasn’t anywhere near the level of the prima ballerina. Watching the child demonstrate some of her steps for Abbey and Nate, this time with no hesitation, made Kathleen revisit the idea of helping Madame Zoe as a dance instructor. She’d been contemplating it since she talked with Nate on Tuesday, but now she realized she needed to give it a try at the very least.
Abbey looked over Madi’s head and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
“How’s Spanky?” Madi asked Nate finally.
“He’ll be okay after a couple of days of rest. He didn’t break his leg, but it’s badly bruised. He’s going to stay here until you all can come back and pick him up.”
“We’d better leave now.” Abbey turned toward the hallway. When Madi started to follow her sister-in-law, Abbey added, “Aren’t you going to change into your tennis shoes?”
The girl threw a grin over her shoulder toward Kathleen. “Nope. As long as I have them on, I won’t be nervous. I’ll be careful where I walk outside.”
As the pair left out the side door, Nate stood in the doorway, his gaze fastened on Kathleen.
Her cheeks began to heat from the intensity in his look.
“You told her your trick,” Nate said in a husky voice. “You’re going to help Madame Zoe, aren’t you? Teach a dance class?”
Her blush deepened. “Yes. Seeing Madi brought back memories of when I was her age. Madame Zoe once invited a retired dancer friend to visit our class. This woman was in her late fifties and used a cane when she walked, but when she was young she’d danced all over the world in some big ballet companies. At eleven I knew who she was and seeing her was so exciting. When she taught our class one time, she didn’t perform the steps, but I learned a lot that day she worked with us. I might be able to do the same for others.”
He held out his hand for her, and she took it. “Let’s go. We can use a drive-through for lunch since I figure you’ll want to get to the audition earlier than planned.”
A warm fuzzy feeling suffused her at his touch. At the side door, he sent her a look that heightened her awareness of him: the pine scent of his aftershave, the curl of his hair on his nape, the sandpaper roughness of his fingers, the gleam in his eyes that drew her in as though they were connected.
Maybe there’s still something between us. Maybe—
As he ordered their lunch, she reined in her thoughts. She couldn’t think of a future with anyone now. Too much was up in the air for her.
* * *
In the lobby of the high school, Nate stood near where Kit sat, resting her leg after the long day she’d had. He hadn’t planned on staying for the auditions, but he’d enjoyed the time spent with Kit and didn’t want it to end.
Kit glanced up at him, exhaustion evident in her expression. “You don’t have to stay to wait for the list to be posted. I’d planned to get a ride home with my brother.”
“I know, but since I was here for Anna, Carrie and Madi’s auditions, I want to know if they got in.”
Kit shifted her attention to her niece, who stood between Beth and Howard, leaning against a wall not far from where the list would be posted. “She’s worried. She chews her lip when she’s nervous.”
“So do you.”
“Maybe it’s a family trait,” Kit said with a laugh.
“How did she do?”
“She did fine, but Madame Zoe only takes a couple of kids under ten.”
“How are Madi’s chances? Anna’s?”
“Madi’s are a little better because she’s eleven and I can’t imagine Anna not getting in. She’s very good.”
“What year did you start the summer academy the first time?”
“Eight.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Nate’s gaze captured Kit’s, and he winked. “Madame Zoe knew you had potential from the beginning.”
“And Carrie knows that. I’m afraid of how she’ll feel if she isn’t picked.”
“She has you to help her.” Nate tossed his head toward the auditorium door that just opened. “The waiting is over.”
“Good. Because the waiting is the worst part.”
“Even if Carrie doesn’t make it?”
“Yes.” Kit pushed to her feet and moved toward the board where the list would be posted.
Nate hung back. Some cheers erupted. A couple of girls started crying. Anna strolled away from the board with a big smile on her face. Good, at least she made it. He’d known how important ballet was for Anna. She talked about it all the time—like Kit used to do.
Nate rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. There were some fathers here, but the group in the lobby was mostly made up of women and young girls. Why had he stayed? What did he think he was going to accomplish? Had he really stayed just to spend more time with Kit? That was a dangerous thought. Kit had made it clear there was no place for a relationship in her life right now and he had to agree.
She talked about New York as though she was only here visiting, and the fact she still had her apartment only reinforced she hadn’t let go of her life there. If there was a way for her to participate in the world of ballet in New York, she would take it. He knew that in his heart, especially after seeing her at the audition, helping the girls before it started. And that meant she’d leave him again.
Madi made her way to the front of the line to view the list. She looked at it and began jumping and yelling, “I made it.”
Not far behind Madi, Carrie pushed forward in the crowd around the board, Beth right behind her. Carrie whirled about and buried her face against her mother. The child’s shoulders shook.
He covered the distance to Kit. “She didn’t make it.”
Kit frowned. “Not this year.”
Carrie tore away from her mother and ran from the lobby, shoving open the double doors to the school and heading outside. Beth started after her.
“Beth,” Kit called out. “Let me talk with her. Okay?”
Beth nodded. Kit limped toward the double doors and disappeared outside. But she came back inside a few minutes later and hastened to her sister-in-law and brother.
“I can’t find Carrie.”
Chapter Eight
Fear swamped Kathleen. “I looked in the parking lot and all around the area. Carrie’s gone.”
Her eyes wide and tear-filled, Beth frantically glanced back and forth from Kathleen to Howard to Nate, who joined them. “I tried to prepare her for the possibility she wouldn’t make it. But all she said was that you got in the first year you could.”
“Let’s go outside and spread out.” Nate started for the double doors.
Kathleen, Beth and Howard quickly followed.
“She’ll be all right. She’s probably hiding somewhere because she’s upset.” Kathleen prayed that was all. God, please don’t let anything happen to Carrie.
In the parking lot, Nate gestured toward the west side. “I’ll take this area.”
“I’ll go in the opposite direction,” Howard said and began searching to the east.
“Let’s check around the building,” Kathleen suggested. “I remember there are some great hiding places by the bushes. I’ll go left. You right, Beth. Okay?”
Her sister-in-law stared across the four-lane road that ran in front of the high school. “What if she went that way? There are a couple of fast-food restaurant across the street. She may be hungry. She wouldn’t eat lunch because she was so nervous. You saw her stumble at the beginning of her dance.”
“Do you want me to help you check those places first?”
Beth shook her head. “You go around the school building. I’ll go across the street.” She pointed toward the middle restaurant. “She loves chicken nuggets from there.”
“Did s
he have money?”
“No, but she might not realize that until she’s there. She was so upset when she stormed out.”
“Then go.” Kathleen hastened to circle the school and begin searching.
As she neared an alcove sheltered by bushes that Kathleen remembered on the side of the building, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was responsible for Carrie’s reaction. She should have prepared her for the very real possibility that Madame Zoe wouldn’t choose her this year. She rarely selected a child eight or nine. All those years ago, Kathleen had been the sole exception.
Once she’d asked Madame Zoe why she allowed young girls to try out. She’d told Kathleen she was always looking for another child like Kathleen. While that flattered her, she saw the harm in that. It hadn’t bothered her in the past because she knew how tough the ballet world was and believed that girls needed to be prepared for that. Then she witnessed Carrie running from the school in tears. Had she become so toughened she forgot that side of dance? The disappointment. The heartbreak.
She peered around the scrub and spied Carrie sitting on the ground with her legs pulled up to her chest and clasped. She quickly texted her brother that she’d found Carrie. “Honey, let’s talk.”
“I’m no good.” Sobs infused Carrie’s voice.
“Yes, you are.” Kathleen squeezed through the narrow opening between the bush and wall and sat with some difficulty next to her niece. She slid her arm around Carrie who immediately turned toward her and cuddled against her, hiding her face in Kathleen’s shoulder. “You’re not even nine yet.”
“I will be tomorrow.”
Kathleen could barely hear her niece’s muffled words. “You haven’t been dancing long. Madame Zoe has only taken a few eight-and nine-year-olds.”
“You were one of them.”
“Yes, but I started dancing at five. I took a lot of classes. I knew then I wanted to be a ballerina.”
“I want to be one. Just like you.”
Kathleen’s heart ached. “It takes so much work. I had to give up a lot to do what I did.”
Her Hometown Hero Page 10