Phantom Waltz

by Catherine Anderson

“What’s wrong, Annie mine?” he asked, smoothing a hand over her hair and kissing her brow.

  “A guilty conscience,” she confessed. “I should have gone over to Ryan’s. Normally, not interfering would be all well and fine, but I keep thinking about that poor girl. If she had another woman to help her, she’d feel much better.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Do you think I should run over?”

  “It’s so nice, lying here. A snowmobile ride doesn’t sound appealing.”

  “You don’t have to go.”

  He sighed. “And risk letting my wife drive off in the lake in a snowstorm?”

  “I won’t drive off in the lake. I know the way blind-folded.”

  Keefe pushed up on his elbow. “If I stay here, I’ll miss getting to meet my new daughter-in-law.”

  “He hasn’t married her yet.”

  Keefe chuckled. “Yeah, well … Ryan always has been slow to do things. He’ll get around to it.”

  “Slow? By whose standards?”

  “Kendrick standards. Been me, I would’ve had her to Reno and back already. Never have understood that boy. He thinks every damned thing half to death before he does it.”

  Ann hugged his neck. “I’ll let you go with me, under one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t give him any advice.”

  Keefe scowled. “Why not?”

  “Because he’s managing just fine on his own, and I don’t want him doing anything harebrained, like abducting her.”

  “I didn’t abduct you.”

  “You pretended we were lost and kept me out in the wilderness for five days. If that’s not abduction, what is it?”

  “A damned smart move. By the time I got you home, you’d agreed to marry me. I saved myself weeks of frustration.” He winked and grinned. “I also did you a big favor. By the time I took you home, you knew that skinny little college boy wasn’t so hot, after all. There was also no question in your mind that I could take care of you, regardless of the situation.”

  “Ah, yes.” Ann rolled onto her back, chuckled, and closed her eyes. “You even started a fire with two sticks. Remember that? Later I found out you had a cigarette lighter in your pocket the entire time.”

  “I also had another blanket in my saddle pack.”

  “What?”

  Keefe leaned over and kissed the end of her nose. “You heard me. I had two blankets.”

  Ann grabbed him by the ears. “You rotten, conniving scoundrel.”

  Relaxed from her bath, Bethany toasted in front of the fire while she waited for Ryan to return from the welding shop. From where she sat, she could gaze out the sliding glass doors at the falling snow, which created a pretty winter scene. The lake gleamed like polished black glass, its shores lined with thick stands of towering, snow-laden trees. Dusk had already descended, making everything look misty and ethereal near the ground, the shades of charcoal turning to soot against the sky.

  Snuggling deeper in her chair, she savored the quietness, which gave her some thinking time to come to terms with her predicament. Not that this really qualified as a predicament. She’d had a wreck, and now she was stranded here for the night, a situation that had all the earmarks of a disaster for someone in a wheelchair. But so far, Ryan had seen to her every need and managed to do so in such a way that she felt cosseted rather than embarrassed.

  Just as predicted, he had gotten her dressed with little difficulty. After lining her chair with a bath sheet, he had lifted her from the tub, set her on the terry, and left. She removed the wet T-shirt, dried off, and put on a fresh one. Then he had returned to help her into a pair of gray sweat-pants with elasticized cuffs and a drawstring waist, which had gone on as easily as her skirt and panties had come off. Her oversize ensemble was complemented by a gigantic pair of gray wool socks with red triangular patches at toe and heel.

  After getting her dressed, he had pushed her into the great room to sit near the fire, tucked a sofa throw around her shoulders, and then moved some of the furniture to create wider traffic paths. Before leaving for the welding shop, he had fixed her a cup of hot cocoa. Considering the dire circumstances she’d faced less than two hours ago, Bethany felt as if she were caught up in a lovely dream, where nothing was quite as it should be.

  Ryan. Thinking of him brought a smile to her lips. How many men would have thought to use a clothespin to keep her T-shirt from floating up? He was so sweet and wonderful.

  “Yo! It’s me!” a deep voice called out.

  Bethany jumped with a start, then turned to see Ryan in the entry. “That was fast.”

  She no sooner spoke than she realized it wasn’t Ryan after all, but a stranger who looked enough like him to be his twin. The man froze in his boot tracks, clearly as surprised to see her as she was him. When he jerked off his black Stetson, the melting snow on its brim sent droplets flying.

  “Howdy. You must be Bethany.” He brushed at the flakes on the sleeve of his lined denim jacket. “Sorry for dripping on the floor. I tried to shake off outside, but more snow just blew in under the porch overhang.”

  “You must be …”

  “Rafe. You met my wife Maggie last night.”

  Bethany nodded. “She’s lovely.”

  “I think so.” He finger-combed his hair, the gesture reminding her of Ryan. She’d heard that the Kendrick brothers closely resembled each other, but she hadn’t realized until now that they were dead ringers. “I’m sorry for barging in on you.” He glanced at her borrowed clothing. “I didn’t know Ryan had company.”

  “Yes, well, it came as something of a surprise to Ryan as well.” She quickly related the string of events that had led to her being there.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “Not even a scratch. It really wasn’t much of an accident. The worst of it was all the wrecks, making it difficult for anyone to come get me. Weather allowing, someone in my family will come collect me in the morning.”

  “I doubt Ryan’s in any big hurry to get rid of you. More like, dancing to the snow gods.”

  “Pardon?”

  A ruddy flush crept up his dark neck. He tugged on his ear, yet another gesture that reminded her of Ryan. “Nothing.”

  Cold air coming in the open doorway curled around Bethany’s shoulders, and she drew the throw more snugly around her. Rafe snapped erect, reached to close the door, and then hesitated. “Do you care if I shut it?”

  Bethany couldn’t help but laugh. “No, please do. I’ve already been chilled to the bone once today.”

  “I’m sorry.” He closed the door. “I just—well, you know—me being a stranger and all. I thought you might be leery. Leerious, as Sly would say.”

  Bethany laughed. “I’m not the leerious type.”

  Even with the jacket providing camouflage, she saw his shoulders relax. “No, I can see you’re not. That’s good. We don’t stand much on ceremony.”

  “Most ranchers don’t.”

  He grinned, the crooked twist of his mouth once again putting her strongly in mind of Ryan. “That’s right. You’re no stranger to cows, are you?”

  “No, although it’s been a long while since I’ve been around them. You look so much like Ryan, it’s astounding.”

  “People do say we look a little alike.”

  “A little? You could pass for identical twins.”

  “Nah. I’m a lot better looking.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Maggie tells me so all the time.”

  “I’m sure she’s speaking from the heart.”

  “And seeing through rose-colored glasses, to boot.”

  “We only chatted for a couple of minutes, but she left me with an impression of warmth and sincerity. I liked her immensely.”

  “I like her a lot myself.”

  He rested a shoulder against the door. Once again, the way he stood, with most of his weight on one long leg, reminded her of Ryan. He studied her for a moment, his gray-blue eyes seeming to miss nothing. Then he smiled
slowly. “Where is Ryan, anyway? I’m surprised he’s not joined to you at the hip.”

  “He’s over at the welding shop, wherever that is.”

  “What’s he doing over there?”

  “He, um—” Bethany tried to think of a delicate way of putting it. “He’s building bars.”

  “Bars?”

  “For the bathroom.”

  She saw it click. He pushed away from the door, tapping his hat against his thigh. “Well, I guess I’ll mosey over that way.” He inclined his dark head. “Good meeting you. Maggie says you may come out for a visit. She gets lonely for female company, living so far from town, so I hope you’ll do that soon.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  He opened the door, started to step out, and then stopped. “I guess I won’t mosey, after all. Here comes Ryan now.”

  Bethany heard male voices and boots crunching on the snow, along with what sounded like a snowmobile coming toward the house.

  “Hey, Mom and Dad,” she heard Ryan say. “What brings you over this way?”

  “You said you needed help,” a female voice rang out. “Your father offered to drive me over so I wouldn’t end up in the lake.”

  “I’ve got it under control now.”

  “Really? Well, that’s good,” the woman replied. “We’ll just come in and meet Bethany before we leave, if that’s all right.”

  Ryan made a grunting sound and metal clanked. “It’s not all right. She isn’t dressed to meet a bunch of people, and I don’t want her feeling—Mom, get back here.”

  Rafe flashed Bethany a grin and threw the door wide. “Hi, Mom.” A petite blonde came stomping into the entry. She fluffed her hair with fine-boned hands to rid it of snow, then offered her cheek to Rafe for a kiss. “Hi, dear heart,” she said cheerfully, her large gray eyes flicking past him to find Bethany in front of the brick hearth. “Johnny-jump-ups. No wonder he’s been waxing poetic.”

  Bewildered by the comment, Bethany nodded in greeting. “Hello. You must be Ryan’s mom.”

  “Ann,” she corrected warmly as she crossed the room, her right hand extended in greeting. “And you’re Bethany, of course. Ryan’s told us so much about you.”

  “He has?”

  “All of it good.”

  Ann Kendrick had a firm handshake and a steady, sincere gaze. Bethany liked her. No artifice, none of the distance that so often erected a wall between strangers. She was simply Ann, dressed in snug jeans, well-worn riding boots, and a denim jacket rubbed white at the elbows. Looking at her, Bethany never would have guessed she was one of the richest women in town. No diamonds, no gold. The only flashy thing about Ann Kendrick was her beautiful smile.

  After the handshake, Ann linked fingers with Bethany and sat on the hearth. “You look none the worse for your experience today. I understand you had a wreck?”

  “Not really a wreck, more just a fender bender with a huge rock.” Bethany was beginning to feel like a stuck recording. “I wasn’t hurt.”

  “That’s good. Ryan said you got a bad chill.”

  Bethany explained how her coat and purse had been thrown to the floorboard upon impact. “I never realized before how much cold air seeps up through the floor of a vehicle until I was lying on one.”

  Ann sighed. “Well, I’m very glad you thought to call Ryan.”

  Just then a snow-encrusted Ryan came backing in the open doorway, wrestling and cursing a huge network of piping that refused to fit through the opening. Bethany gaped. How many bars did they think she needed, anyway?

  “Dear God,” Ann whispered. “He’s built you a skyscraper, honey.”

  Bethany stifled a giggle. It did look like a small skyscraper, with a triangular pull-up bar dangling on a chain from the uppermost crossbar.

  “Son of a bitch.” Ryan popped a barked knuckle into his mouth.

  “That’ll be ten dollars,” Ann called out. “I’m keeping track.”

  Ryan flashed her a glare and muttered under his breath.

  “Bring her in through the sliding glass doors,” Rafe suggested.

  “And then what? If she won’t fit through here, she sure as hell won’t fit through the bathroom doorway,” Ryan said.

  A wiry old cowboy with a turkey neck and a face so baked and wrinkled by the sun it resembled a crumpled brown paper sack manned the opposite end of the skyscraper. His droopy tan Stetson looked like an extension of his body, the camel shade of the battered, badly soiled felt almost the same color as his skin. With solemn eyes, he peered through the bars at Ryan. “You reckon she’d fit if we tipped her over?”

  “Why is it,” Ann mused softly, “that men automatically think that anything difficult is a female?”

  Bethany nearly choked on a giggle. “I have no idea. In this case, I’m glad it’s a she, though. I’ll be getting up close and personal with that contraption.”

  Ann’s eyes danced with merriment as she resumed watching the men.

  Waving his injured hand, Ryan stepped back to regard the framework from all angles. The brim of his Stetson and the shoulders of his jacket were covered with snow, and his fresh jeans were wet to the knees. Observing him, Bethany couldn’t help but recall that he’d said this would be no bother.

  Just then an older gentleman who looked very like Ryan and Rafe appeared outside on the porch beside the wiry cowboy, whom Bethany guessed to be Sly. “What you got the girl figured for, son, a trapeze artist?”

  “Enough, Dad. We didn’t know how high to make the bars, so we made two. And Sly thought a pull bar would be nice, so we made it tall. Otherwise, all us guys would hit our heads every time—” He broke off and glanced at Bethany. “Every time we went to see a man about a dog,” he finished.

  Ryan’s father grinned through the bars at Bethany. “I’m Keefe Kendrick, by the way. Ain’t this a hell of a way to get acquainted with people?”

  That was an understatement. She couldn’t remember a time when her bathroom requirements had been the main topic of discussion among strangers.

  Oddly, after the first wave of intense embarrassment passed, she was able to relax, mainly because everyone else was so matter-of-fact. They all got into the act, finally managed to get the contraption into the house, and then worked together as a team to fit it in the bathroom. The ribbing and laughter ran rampant, and soon Bethany was chuckling right along with everyone else.

  “Ya-hoo!” Keefe Kendrick said in a booming voice when the job was finally completed. “Butter my ass and call me a biscuit. I think the damned thing might work, son. Let’s have her give it a try.”

  Bethany threw a startled look at Ryan’s father, half afraid he meant for her to try it out right then.

  “Come on,” he urged.

  Oh, God, that was exactly what he had in mind.

  “Not for real,” Ryan assured her. “We just need to see if the bars are right. If not, I’ll run get the portable welder, and we’ll make some quick adjustments.”

  So it happened that Bethany first tried out her skyscraper while everyone looked on. The triangle pull-up bar proved to be a marvelous improvement on the bars she had at home. She was able to grab hold of it and swing from her chair so easily she whooped with delight. Her audience applauded, and Ryan and Sly beamed with pride for having devised something that worked so well.

  “Ryan, this is wonderful!”

  “You really like it?” he asked hopefully.

  “Oh, I love it. When I leave, can I take it home with me?”

  “No way. That monster is staying put. If you really like it, we’ll build you another one for your place.”

  Bethany frowned. “You don’t really mean to leave it here.”

  “It won’t be so ugly if you paint it.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “Paint it?”

  He winked at her. “I’ll spray paint it first, then you can paint little flowers and doodads here and there. It’ll pretty right up.”

  “Painting it would take me days.”

 
“Works for me.”

  Keefe, who stood in the doorway with an arm around his wife’s shoulders, gave the skyscraper a long, narrow look. To Bethany, he said, “If you don’t want us fellas bitchin’ like a bunch of women about the toilet seat, you’d best remember to wrap that chain around a sidebar after you use it, honey. Otherwise somebody’s gonna get his pearly whites knocked down his throat.”

  Ann smiled serenely. “What are you going to name her, Bethany? Anything that big and homely needs a handle.”

  Still perched on her throne, Bethany thought for a moment and then swatted the pull bar. “I think I’ll call her ‘Sweet Revenge.’”

  Chapter Eleven

  Everyone had dinner at Ryan’s, a family gathering made complete when Rafe drove home to fetch Maggie, his mother-in-law Helen, and the three kids. Only Becca, the housekeeper-cum-nanny, who had the evening off, was unable to attend. After some good-natured bickering, spaghetti was chosen as the main course with garlic bread, salad, and green beans on the side.

  Usually people assumed Bethany couldn’t help with meal preparations. In the Kendrick family, everyone was expected to help, including Sly, who was sent over to Ann’s house to fetch fresh garlic. Bethany was recruited to prepare the bread. Ryan and his mom put on the spaghetti sauce. Helen was in charge of setting the table, Maggie and Rafe fixed the salad. Grandpa Keefe and Heidi were assigned baby-sitting duty, a task they seemed to greatly enjoy.

  The comradeship reminded Bethany of her own family, and she settled into the Kendrick circle easily, smiling at their teasing banter, laughing when the ragging was turned on her. She found herself wishing that the evening wouldn’t end—or, more precisely, that the feeling of belonging didn’t have to end.

  Ryan. Occasionally their gazes would lock, and the look in his eyes made her heart catch. You see? he seemed to be saying. This can work. It will work, if only you’ll give me a chance.

  “Toes!” Bethany warned as she took the bread over to slip it in the preheated oven. “I run over all feet that get in my way.”

  “You’re just hoping to get out of drying dishes,” Maggie said with a laugh. “No such luck, lady. We’ll take our chances.”