He frowned and she knew he was going to try and deny it. Maybe even defend her to herself. But she wasn’t being harsh, she was being real. “It’s true,” she said, adding a rueful smile so he’d know she wasn’t trying to sound pitiful. “I’ve been a coward.”
Taking a deep breath, she told him about the days immediately after the accident. “You know, at first I was in this bubble. Between doctors’ appointments and physical therapy and meetings with the ballet higher ups, my days were filled and my attention was solely fixed on trying to heal and sorting out the most urgent issues with my job.”
She shuddered and was glad for the warmth of his hand on hers. Those days felt like years ago, but at the same time it felt like only yesterday in some ways. “Anyways, after a little while it became apparent that I’d never heal properly enough to go back to dancing professionally, and suddenly it seemed like I had all the time in the world.”
He shifted and she felt his eyes on her whenever he’d cast a glance in her direction.
“I’ve never felt more alone.”
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He shook his head. “And all on your own—”
“That’s the thing,” she interrupted. “People reached out. Some good friends, some people who didn’t know me well but were kind enough to want to help and give me support. But…I just couldn’t take them up on it.”
There was a silence as they both seemed to get lost in thought. Finally, he said, “Was it pride, do you think?”
Claire drew in a deep breath and watched as the snow-covered hills passed by the window, the icy mountain tops in the background never seeming to move. She let out a long exhale. “Yes,” she said. “It was pride, I suppose. I didn’t want to see their pity. I was afraid I’d resent my friends and colleagues who could still dance when I couldn’t….”
She let her voice trail off. The list was too long to name all the things she’d feared back then. “I guess in a way I was grieving for the life I’d lost.”
She saw him nodding out of the corner of her eye. “That makes sense. You had to say goodbye to the life you knew, it’s easy to understand why you might need to put some distance between yourself and those closest to you.”
She stared at his profile. The people closest to you. Funny, but she’d never felt particularly close to any of the people she’d left behind. There were some she’d grown attached to since they worked together or volunteered together, but no one she’d felt comfortable opening up to like she’d done with Cole after only being back in each other’s lives for a matter of days.
But she didn’t argue with him. She knew what he meant, and was grateful for his understanding.
When she glanced over she was surprised to see that his expression was grim, his mouth tight in an unusually stern frown that seemed at odds with his laid-back demeanor. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I’m just sorry, is all. We shouldn’t have put you in this position.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “What position?”
He lifted one hand of the wheel and waved it vaguely. “Having to talk to people from your past—” He stopped abruptly but before she could ask why, he corrected himself. “Or, not your past, I guess.”
With confusion she watched as a range of emotions seemed to flicker over his face. But then he let out a soft laugh, one that gave her shivers as it rumbled from his chest. His jaw unclenched and his smile was once more in place. “I’m making a mess of this,” he said, turning to her with one raised brow. “As usual.”
She laughed and he joined her.
“Claire Geddy, what is it about you that makes me lose all my senses the moment you’re near?”
The feeling’s mutual. She bit her lip, the words remaining unsaid, and then a second passed and the moment was gone. She’d missed her chance.
He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Anyway, what I was trying to say was, I’m sorry we’ve asked you to reach out if you’re not ready.”
She shook her head so quickly, her painstakingly coiffed curls fell into her face. “No, not at all. I don’t mind—I mean, I want to help.” Her denial sounded too forced and she saw that he didn’t quite believe her.
She tried again, this time at a slower pace and in her normal voice. “I promise.” She reached her hand out and grasped his like he had with her and he turned to face her with a flicker of surprise.
“I promise,” she repeated. “I want to help you and your family, and if reaching out to these people can help, then I’m happy to do it.”
She saw that he was going to argue and beat him to it. “Besides, I think it’s probably good for me.”
He cast a quick look in her direction and she gave him a genuine smile. “I mean it. I can’t hide from my former life forever, but I needed a push. Who knows how long I would have procrastinated if I didn’t have this motivation.”
He was quiet for a moment and then he gave her a teasing grin. “Well then…you’re welcome, I guess.”
She let his hand go so she could playfully slap his arm, which he proceeded to rub as though she’d really hurt him.
When she leaned back again, she was smiling so broadly her cheeks hurt. Looking out the window, she watched the scene roll by as Cole clicked on the radio and the car was filled with the low bass sounds of a classic rock band.
She leaned back in her seat, relaxed and content as the sun set behind the mountains. He asked her questions about her life since she’d been back, but soon he was asking her about her life back in New York, and for the first time in six months, she could talk about it without bitterness and grief.
The time passed quickly—too quickly, almost. She found herself wishing they could stay in the nice cozy car all night, just cruising the highway and listening to tunes, casual conversation easy and light.
But, of course, he’d made dinner reservations and the chips weren’t going to fill either of them up for long.
Chapter Fourteen
Cole marveled at his luck throughout dinner. He noticed the looks that Claire was getting from the tables around them, but she didn’t seem to notice. Maybe she was used to the stares.
And he didn’t suppose everyone, if anyone, in town recognized her from the stage. No, they stared because she stood out.
She always had, and he reckoned she always would, no matter how old she got or where she chose to live. The woman had a grace about her—a poise. But more than that, she had a charisma. A sort of energy that drew attention like a magnet but that kept people at bay, as well.
It simultaneously drew people in but he saw their intimidation once they got close.
He knew it because he’d experienced it. All throughout junior high and high school he’d kept his distance from her, telling himself it was just because she wouldn’t have any interest in hanging out with a kid like him who fixed bikes and worked at his family ranch.
Deep down he’d always known it was because he was intimidated by her, just like all the other boys. He wasn’t special.
But she was. And the crazy part was, she didn’t seem to know it. Oh, he was certain she knew that she was talented, and dedicated, and all those things. But she didn’t seem to realize that she had a gravitational pull of her own. That when she walked into a room, it was like the moon tugging at the tide. Heads swayed, gazes roamed, talking temporarily ceased.
Everyone wanted to be near her, but few knew how to speak to her. He imagined she’d spent a lifetime being an outsider to a certain extent. Heck, he knew she’d been an outsider at school, and from the stories she’d told him in the car, he’d gotten the sense that it had carried over to her life in New York as well.
He could only imagine the ways her charismatic pull would affect those around her. He was no psychiatrist but he imagined it played out in different ways—some were intimidated, some might have been jealous, others might have been drawn to it but unable to relate.
“Were you lonely in New York?” He hadn’t r
eally meant to ask it, but there it was. The question had been nagging at him, though why he couldn’t say. It wasn’t like he could go back in time and solve the problem, even if it existed.
She didn’t answer right away, instead she took a bite of her fish and chewed it thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say lonely.”
He found himself smiling despite the topic. The way she’d responded had been so thoughtful and diplomatic as she stewed over the proper wording. So very Claire. “What would you say?” he teased.
She either ignored his teasing or didn’t pick up on it, she seemed lost in thought. “I was busy.” Her gaze met his and it was like she’d reached out and gripped his heart in her hands. “I was busy and also… I guess I never met anyone I connected with. Not deeply, anyway.”
He was momentarily stunned speechless at the intimacy in her words, or maybe it was in the straightforward way she was looking at him. Like she was seeing straight into him and laying herself bare as well.
The moment seemed charged. The rest of the patrons ceased to exist. This, he realized, was what it meant to be with Claire Geddy. That gravitational pull she had on the rest of the world was nothing compared to this.
He was speechless in the face of it. Humbled by it, really. That she was choosing to let him in seemed nothing short of a miracle.
“What have I done to be so lucky?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud but the words slipped out and her smile made him glad he had. Heck, he’d do just about anything to make this woman smile.
She turned her gaze down to her meal and as she ate he noticed a flush had spread along her neck and to her cheeks. Had he embarrassed her with his words or was she pleased?
After a few moments she looked up again and her smile was so sweet, so genuine, he was fairly sure he’d be dreaming of it that night. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?” he asked.
She nodded toward her nearly empty plate. “For dinner. For tonight. For all of it. It’s been ages since I’ve gone out for fun.”
On a date? The caveman in him felt a surge of possessiveness and he bit back the questions that reared to the surface. Suddenly he wanted to know all about her ex boyfriends and the last time she’d dated…not that it was any of his business.
Besides, she was here with him now. For the moment, at least.
A twinge of fear threatened to mar the moment. Just like in the car when he’d gone and put his foot in his mouth—again—by referring to the people in New York as the people from her past.
For all he knew they were her present and, more importantly, her future. She’d made it clear that she might not stay. There was every possibility she could go back. And he’d said he’d be all right with that.
He took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts to the side.
They were here now. This was their moment and he aimed to make the most of it. With that in mind, he leaned across the table and caught her hand in his. “The night’s not over yet.”
* * *
If he was being honest, he’d had this next stop in mind before he’d even made dinner reservations. When he’d first thought about taking Claire out on a proper date, he’d envisioned this place.
But now as he drove back toward Lulu, he felt a surge of… something. The feeling was so unusual he had to take a moment to sort out what it was. As the exit drew near, he named it for what it was.
Nerves.
It was silly, really. It wasn’t like he thought Claire would laugh at him, but this place was meaningful to him and to his family. He’d never brought a girl here.
He glanced over at Claire. Or a woman, for that matter.
She’d been quiet after dinner, but not in a bad way. They’d both grown a little quiet, as if they needed to process and absorb all they’d talked about during dinner.
And they had talked about a lot. In between eating they’d filled one another in on everything that had happened since she’d left for ballet academy in New York.
Well, not everything, he supposed. But it felt like it. They’d swapped anecdotes and regaled one another with the highlights from those years they’d missed. He’d told her about the different road trips he’d taken and she’d amazed him with stories of celebrity meetings and starring performances.
For him, the highlight had been listening to her talk about dancing. He’d been loathe to bring it up after everything she’d told him in the car, but when she told him stories about meeting little girls outside the theater who wanted her autograph, or how she’d won her first lead role…she’d glowed with a joy that made him believe in life again.
That was a crazy thing to think, but there it was. He’d felt her passion, her enthusiasm. He’d felt it and experienced it with her. What would it be like to feel that way every day about what you were doing with your life?
Now he found himself wondering idly if that was the way Dax felt when it came to running the ranch. It’s in his blood, that’s what their father used to say.
It had gone without saying that it wasn’t in Cole’s blood. The only thing that ever gave him anything close to the kind of pure joy he witnessed in Claire’s whole being was driving his bike.
And being with Claire.
The thought nearly knocked him sideways and his grip on the wheel tightened.
“Are you all right?” Claire’s hand slipped over his and he let go of his death grip so he could lace his fingers through hers and squeeze.
He’d hold on tight forever if he could. He shook his head. But tonight wasn’t about forever; it wasn’t even about tomorrow or the next week. Tonight was about them finally having a moment. Their moment. And he wouldn’t go and ruin it, for himself or for her, by talking about what ifs or maybe one day.
She’d feel pressured and he’d get frustrated if the conversation went down that path. So when she tugged on his hand and he looked over to see her brows lifted in unspoken question, he shook his head and smiled.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Never better.”
They reached the exit and he pulled off, driving down the rutted dirt lane until the highway was well out of sight.
“Where are you taking me?” Claire asked with a laugh. “Where are we?”
He opened the car door and the interior of the car was flooded with light. He gave her a quick grin as he reached one leg out the door and into the cold winter night. “Nowhere. That’s the point.”
He hurried over to her side and helped her out. When they shut the car door behind her the interior lights turned off and they were thrown into darkness.
The air was brisk and fresh as he lifted his face up. No clouds. He grinned up at the heavens. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect place for this.
She shivered slightly and he drew her close, turning her in his arms so her back was pressed to his chest and his arms were wrapped tight about her waist for warmth.
Her voice was filled with laughter. “Cole?”
“Yes?”
“Do you often take women out to the middle of nowhere on a first date?”
He tilted his head down until his mouth was even with her ear. “Never.”
She shivered again in his arms and he tightened his grip. Enough time had passed that her eyes would have adjusted to the light so he whispered in her ear once more. “Look up.”
She did as he bid, the back of her head coming to rest against his chest. “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh my.”
He turned his head slightly so his smile was pressed against her hair, the fresh scent of her shampoo filling his senses as stray strands tickled his nose.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“I know.” His eyes were shut tight as he took in her scent, the feel of her in his arms. After another heartbeat, he opened his eyes and lifted his head so he could see what she saw.
Stars. Countless, endless stars as far as the eye could see.
“My parents discovered this place one night when they were driving back to Lulu. The night was clear and my
mama wanted to do some stargazing.” He shook his head. “I still don’t know if my father lucked out or if he really knew the geography around this area that well….” He shrugged. “Either way, they discovered this bench.” He pointed straight ahead and to the sides. “We’re slightly elevated here but the foothills block the lights from any town nearby.”
He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke and he loved the fact that he could hear that smile.
“I lived in Montana most of my life but I have never seen stars like this.”
He nodded. “It’s funny what you take for granted when you grow up somewhere.” After a pause, he added, “You know, sometimes I think that’s what makes me want to run.”
He felt her nod. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes you need the perspective so you can appreciate what you have.”
“Exactly.” And just like that, this woman had made something he’d always questioned feel right. He felt his perspective shift in that moment, like he’d been staring at a jigsaw puzzle all wrong for years. Now she’d shifted it for him and it all fit. It might not change the past but at least it gave him a reason. A part of him had always questioned himself for wanting to leave, and then question himself again when he wanted to come back.
If he were being honest, he’d started to think there was something wrong with him that he couldn’t commit to one place. But maybe the problem wasn’t with him, and maybe it wasn’t with Lulu or the ranch.
Maybe there’d never been a problem at all, in fact. He’d just needed perspective to see what mattered.
“I think,” he started hesitantly. He felt her stiffen slightly as if waiting for him to continue, actively listening, as if whatever he was about to say was important.
“I think I always knew that Lulu was my home,” he said, finding the words as he sorted through a lifetime of searching. “But I didn’t know my place there. I didn’t seem to fit in the way Dax did, or like my father.”
She nodded, her voice quiet in the still night air. “I can see that.”
Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana Page 14