Phantom Waltz

by Catherine Anderson

  “Probably in the usual places. It’s a very good indication, at any rate.”

  Ryan nodded.

  “As for her asking you to leave? This is just your mother’s take, all right? But I think I know why.”

  “Why?” Ryan fixed a piercing gaze on her.

  “You say you only meant the kiss as an old-fashioned, first-date kind of thing?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sure she must have realized that,” Ann said softly. “If we’re right, and she’s already been rejected a number of times, just think how she must have felt, responding that way to you, if it wasn’t apparent to her that you were feeling the same way.”

  Ryan winced and swore under his breath.

  “If she hasn’t been kissed very many times—which is a fair assumption—then she may not have realized you became aroused as well. When you pulled away, she may have been mortified. I know I would have been.” Ann sighed. “I can’t say for sure. But if I’m right, she probably hopes she never sees you again.”

  “Oh, Christ.”

  “It isn’t the end of the world, dear heart. Fences can be mended.”

  “How?”

  “You’re your father’s son. Trust me, you’ll think of a way. If you want to, that is. Unless you’re very serious about this girl, Ryan, perhaps you should just stay away from her.” She reached over to pat his back. “On the other hand”—she leaned forward to peer at his downcast face—“if she’s really the girl you’ve been searching for, you’d be the biggest fool on earth to let her slip through your fingers. Don’t let a wheelchair stop you. If you’ve got that once-in-a-lifetime feeling, there’s nothing—and I do mean nothing—that’s so great an obstacle it can’t be overcome. How’s that song go that you like so well? If you have love in your heart, you can move a mountain. Love can make miracles happen, honey.”

  Ryan exhaled a ragged, pent-up breath. “Do you think I’m nuts, Mom? To be feeling this way about a girl I just met?”

  Ann tossed out the remainder of her wine and used his shoulder for leverage as she gained her feet. Her wine goblet dangling loosely from her fingers, she gazed toward the mountains where the Rocking K sprawled farther than the eye could see.

  “I think you’re a Kendrick,” she said softly. “If the tendency to fall in love, hard and fast, is crazy, it’s an inherent trait, so why fight it?”

  “How does a guy know if it’s love?”

  Ann frowned thoughtfully. “You just do. It’s not some-thing you can explain to someone else—or even to yourself. You just know.” She splayed a hand over her heart. “A feeling, way down deep.” Her eyes began to dance with twinkling laughter. “Of course, sometimes it’s only acid indigestion. So be careful.”

  “You’re a big help.”

  “You’re on your own. Only you know how you feel. Let that guide you.”

  Ryan watched as she picked her way down the bank. “Hey, Mom?”

  “Hmm?” She stopped and looked back.

  “Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”

  She smiled and resumed her pace. After stowing her goblet in the saddlebag and remounting Sugarplum, she sat there for a moment, her hands braced on the saddle horn, her head tipped back to stare at the sky. “What did you say this girl’s name is?”

  “Bethany,” Ryan said huskily.

  “Ah, Bethany. I like that. It has a very nice ring, coupled with Kendrick.”

  “I haven’t decided to marry her yet, Mom. I have a lot of thinking to do before I even decide to see her again.”

  “Yes, you do,” Ann agreed, all trace of levity gone from her voice. “It’s entirely unnecessary to say this, I know, but I’ll say it anyway. A young woman like that has endured heartache enough. You could hurt her so very easily.” She drew sideways on the reins to turn Sugarplum. “Sometimes it’s better to simply never know where a feeling may take you than to find out and have regrets.”

  Ryan gazed after her as she rode off, his mouth tipped in a sad smile.

  Chapter Six

  It was nine-thirty the next morning, and Ryan had a dozen things to do. Instead he stood at the breakfast bar, staring at the telephone. A glance at his watch told him he’d been at this for twenty minutes, long enough to work out a routine. He picked up the receiver, started to punch in Bethany’s number, hung up, and then grabbed the pen by the Rolodex to doodle.

  This was a waste of time. He either wanted to call her or he didn’t. A fairly simple decision. So why was he standing here acting like a lovesick teenager and getting a crick between his shoulder blades?

  Turning to leave the kitchen, he nearly stumbled over the yellow Lab sprawled on the floor near his feet. Because the dog was so often underfoot, Ryan had dubbed him Tripper two years ago when he had appeared on the doorstep, bedraggled and starving. The name had stuck, and so had the dog.

  Tripper whined and rolled onto his back for a belly scratch. Smiling, Ryan bent to accommodate him. “I’ve got to put you on a diet,” he said affectionately. “You’re getting fat.”

  Tripper arched his spine to rub his shoulders on the floor. Ryan sighed when he saw how many hairs were coming off on the burnt-umber tile. It seemed that Tripper’s fur multiplied as soon as it fell from his coat. Ah, well. Without a dog, life was barely worth living.

  He patted Tripper’s head and gave the phone a last look. Then he turned away, determined to get on with his day. Moving across the family room to the coat tree, he collected his Stetson, settled it on his head, and stared out the sliding glass door at the large deck, where he loved to relax on summer evenings.

  Damn. The slight drop to the deck would be a precipitous barrier for a woman in a wheelchair. If he started dating Bethany and brought her out for visits, he’d have to build ramps and rearrange the furniture to provide wider traffic paths. There were also the bathrooms to consider. They were spacious enough, and because he often housed sickly newborn critters in the bathrooms while he had them on medication, the doorways were plenty wide, but he needed to install bars, at least.

  He sighed and rubbed his aching eyes. Tension. If he picked up that phone, there’d be no backing out later. He couldn’t do that to her. If he pursued this, he had to know beyond a doubt that what he felt for her was real and lasting.

  After grabbing the cell phone and his jacket, he whistled for Tripper and left the house. There was tack to repair, a horse that needed shoeing, and various other chores to eat up his day. He didn’t have time to stare at the phone.

  Once inside the stable, Ryan approached Rosebud’s stall to say good morning. The mare whickered in greeting and came to the gate, flaring her nostrils and looking past Ryan’s shoulder as if expecting to see someone else.

  Ryan smiled knowingly. “You really took a liking to her, didn’t you?” he whispered as he rubbed the horse’s nose. “Me, too.”

  Rosebud nudged his arm and sniffed his jacket. Ryan fished in his pocket for the expected sugar cube. As the mare nibbled the treat from his plam, he petted her, thinking how much Bethany would enjoy this morning ritual.

  “You’re rotten, you know it?” he whispered to his horse. “Why are all my critters so spoiled, huh? I’ve got to stop pampering you.”

  Rosebud chuffed and blew, as if she were telling him what she thought of that idea. Ryan gazed past her, recalling how Bethany’s eyes had sparkled last night when she saw the foal.

  His throat went tight at the image. When he tried to remember the faces of other women he’d dated, they were all a blur, eclipsed by pixie features and huge, pansy-blue eyes. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his head.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the depressions left in the dirt by her wheelchair. Farther up the aisle, there were muddy places where she would get stuck if he didn’t lay asphalt, and if he did that, he might as well go the whole nine yards with cement pads and walkways outside the stable. Such an undertaking would be costly. But, then, it wasn’t as if he’d ever miss the money. He could almost see her buzzing u
p the aisle, her smile lighting up the gloom. A man couldn’t put a price tag on that.

  Bethany. He sighed, exhausted. There was no understanding the feelings he had for her. It didn’t seem to matter that they made no sense. They simply existed and gained a stronger hold with each passing second.

  Bethany dabbed her brush in greenish-black paint to add shadows and definition to the trees in her mountain scene. It was as close as she came to the wilderness these days, recreating it on canvas. As she painted, she recalled trips she’d taken with her brothers. The scenery, the smells, the sound of laughter on the wind. Oh, how she ached to experience those things again.

  Ah, well. This was almost as good, and staying home had its advantages, a hot bath each evening ranking high on the list. Her new bathing sling was wonderful, lowering her into the tub in a reclining position so she could soak.

  She added some shading to a drooping fir bough, thinking how lucky she was to have all morning to paint. Other than work and the occasional family obligation, little happened in her life to interfere with her leisure time. She could do what she wished, when she wished, and she liked it that way. She didn’t need a man in her life, that was for sure. Why complicate things? She enjoyed living alone with only her cat Cleo to demand her attention. If she wanted to read all weekend, she usually could. If she decided to watch television, she didn’t have to fight with an overbearing male over the remote control.

  The phone rang. Bethany always brought the portable with her into the hobby room. She leaned sideways to grab it off her craft table, a makeshift work surface Jake had thrown together with shortened sawhorses and a ripped sheet of plywood.

  “Hello?”

  A deep voice replied, “Good morning, beautiful. You still mad at me?”

  Ryan. Bethany’s hand tightened on the phone, and her heart climbed into her throat. A flush of humiliation seared her cheeks. Every time she thought about last night, she wanted to die.

  “Good morning right back at you,” she managed to say cheerfully. “And I was mad at myself, not you. It was a lovely evening, and I had a fantastic time.”

  He was silent for a moment. “It really was a great evening, and I’d like to do it again.”

  Bethany squeezed her eyes closed. “I’d love to. Give me a call one of these times, and we’ll see if we can’t do that.”

  “This is the call.” His voice was laced with amusement. “I’d like to see you tonight.”

  Tonight? Why? So she could throw herself at him again and make a fool of herself? “Gosh, Ryan, I’m sorry,” she tautly. Lying, for any reason, had never come easily to her. “Remember, I told you last week, I’m busy tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” He sighed. “What about tomorrow?”

  “Church and family things.”

  “You busy tomorrow night, too? I’ve got a big do I have to attend. I’d love to take you as my date.”

  “I’m busy then, too, I’m afraid,” she said, vastly relieved she needn’t lie about that as well. The annual Crystal Falls Ranchers’ Association dinner was tomorrow night, and as owners of The Works, her parents were still members. She fleetingly wondered if that was the big “do” Ryan had to attend, then told herself not to borrow trouble.

  “Not a problem,” he assured her. “I’ll take what I can get. What night next week do you have free? I’ll juggle my schedule.”

  Bethany stared sightlessly at the window. “I’m sorry. Monday I have store errands to run that’ll keep me busy until late. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my swim nights at the ‘Y’ It’ll be one thing or another all week.”

  “Why don’t you come out here Tuesday night to swim? I’ve got a heated pool. Afterward we’ll have dinner. I grill a mean steak.”

  “I swim with my mother. She helps me get dressed afterward. When I’m away from home and all my equipment, I require assistance.”

  “Ah.” Silence again. Then, “What kind of equipment?”

  She couldn’t imagine why he asked. “All different kinds, mainly transfer gadgets.”

  “Transfer gadgets?”

  “Devices to lift me from my chair and deposit me elsewhere. I can’t motivate on my own. Out of my own environment, I find it very difficult to manage.”

  There, she thought. If that didn’t make him turn tail and run, nothing would.

  “I’m a great transfer gadget,” he informed her silkily. “I’m also multifunctional and come real cheap. All I charge is smile.”

  “I would never trust a blind man to pick me up and move me around.”

  Brief silence. “I’m not blind.”

  “If you come anywhere near me while I’m dressing, you’d better be.”

  He laughed. “Ah, I see your point. I guess I need to do some shopping.”

  Bethany’s throat closed off, and her pulse began to hammer in her temples. “Why are you doing this, Ryan?” she asked shakily.

  “I think that’s obvious.” She heard a horse whinny, then the sound of water running. She imagined him in the stable, talking to her over a cell phone while he cared for his stock. “I’ve developed an incurable fascination for a certain lady with huge blue eyes. What’re you doing next Friday night?”

  “Next Friday?” She reached over to rustle some papers on the table, hoping he’d think she was checking her calendar. “Gosh. I’m busy, I’m afraid.”

  “How about Saturday?”

  “The same. My calendar seems to be full for the next several weeks.”

  “I see. A brush-off. A very sweet one, but a brush-off, all the same.”

  Bethany touched her fingertips to her mouth, remembering how it had felt when he kissed her—how she’d all but melted and then clung to him when he tried to pull away. She also recalled Jake’s warning, that Ryan Kendrick had a reputation for loving and leaving them. She didn’t want to become another name on his list. There was something about him that penetrated all her defenses and left her far too vulnerable. This might be only another flirtation to him, but it wouldn’t be for her. She’d end up falling in love with him, and it would devastate her when he decided to move on.

  “It’s not a brush-off,” she assured him. “I really appreciate your thinking of me. I had a wonderful time last night, I’d love to do it again, and I’m very sorry my schedule is so full right now.”

  “I’ll keep in touch. Maybe I’ll catch you some evening when you aren’t already booked.”

  “I’d like that. Good-bye, Ryan.”

  “I hate the word good-bye, especially with a beautiful lady I’m determined to see again. I’ll catch you later, how’s that?”

  “Right. Catch you later.”

  Bethany broke the connection and let the phone drop to her lap. She bent her head and sat there for a full minute, silently chiding herself. It was so silly to wish for more than she already had, so silly to want more. She had so very much to be grateful for. What was it about Ryan Kendrick that made it all seem so meaningless and empty?

  Besides, realistically, what did she have to offer a man who already had it all? She should be grateful that he’d been a gentleman last night. It had been a narrow escape. To put herself at risk again would be foolish. She knew from experience that broken hearts took a very long time to heal.

  When Ryan got off the cell phone, he turned from Rosebud’s water trough to see his older brother Rafe standing outside the stall. After turning off the faucet, Ryan stepped out, swung the gate closed, and secured the latch.

  Arching one jet eyebrow, Rafe regarded Ryan from under the brim of his tattered black Stetson, his mouth tipped in a bemused grin. “That sounded like a no score, little brother. You losing your touch?”

  “I sure as hell struck out with that one.” Ryan tucked the phone back in his pocket. “It would appear she’s going to take some convincing.”

  “And you’ll bother? You usually just move on to better grazing.”

  “Not this time.”

  “Hmm. That doesn’t sound like you.”

  Raf
e stepped to the stall gate, the lazy shift of his lean but well-muscled body deceptively languid for a man who could move with lightning speed when he chose. Dressed in blue chambray and denim, he stood with his arms resting on the gate, one booted foot bearing most of his weight.

  Just then Ryan saw his nephew run up the aisle toward them. In tiny Wrangler jeans, Tony Lamas boots, and a denim jacket, Jaimie was the very image of Rafe except for his big brown eyes, which he’d gotten from his mother. Given the fact that the child wasn’t actually Rafe’s, the resemblance never ceased to amaze Ryan.

  As the two-year-old tried to dart by, Ryan scooped him up in the crook of his arm. “What have I got here? A peck of trouble?”

  “Jaimie!” the child chortled.

  Ryan lifted the little boy’s black hat to see his face better. “I’ll be, it is Jaimie. What’s your mama feedin’ you, hotshot? You’ve grown a full inch since I saw you last.”

  Always on the run, the child giggled and squirmed to get down. Ryan kissed his chubby cheek, getting a whiff of peanut butter breath, which made him grin as he swung the toddler back to the ground.

  Rafe watched the boy run deeper into the stable. “Where’s he off to, I wonder?”

  “Looking for Sly, no doubt. That old codger attracts kids like honey does bears. Remember how we used to pester him?”

  Tripper barked and fell in behind the little boy.

  “I remember.” Rafe shook his head, his gaze still riveted to Jaimie. “He is growing fast, isn’t he? Before I know it, he’ll be asking to borrow my truck keys.”

  Ryan chuckled. “We’ve got a few more years before that happens, thank God. What brings you over this way?”

  Rafe and his wife Maggie lived in the main ranch house on the opposite side of the lake, not far as a crow flew, but a distance of about three miles by vehicle.

  Rafe inclined his head at the stall. “I thought I’d come see the foal. Maggie was painting her toenails. I thought I’d give her a break. Mom’s there, playing with the baby. It’s not often these days that Maggie gets any quiet time.”