Would she be willing to gibe up life as she knew it, for Thad?
****
Warmth rushed over Kim’s face in soft currents. Sleep wafted through her and held her in its embrace like thick hot fudge, delicious and satisfying. She woke slowly, her brain gently rousing and becoming aware of the heavenly warmth wrapped around her body, as well as the crisp coolness that nipped at her nose.
Vague remembrances of where she was and why she was there nagged at the fringes of her understanding. There was something important she had to do today. Something that involved...going home.
She attempted to roll onto her back but there was a strange heaviness draped over her side. Confused, and still a bit disoriented from her drug-like sleep, she squirmed beneath the covers trying to free herself from their binding.
Her eyes fluttered and bits of light pierced the morning haze. Again, she tried opening them, and when she did, only then came fully aware of her situation. She was in Thad’s arms, staring at a row of buttons on a soft flannel shirt, and a V of curly chest hair.
The heaviness of his arm drew her closer, and again, she felt the warmth of his breathing against her face, inhaled the deep, raw male scent of him. Instantly, she decided she could react in one of two ways. She could toss his arm off her and push him away, or she could savor the moment just a bit longer, pretending she was asleep.
“Good morning.”
She pushed away and looked into his face. The choice was taken from her. He was awake and watching her.
“Morning.” Rising, she cautiously and hesitantly turned away from him and began rolling up her bedroll. “What time is it, do you know?” She avoided looking into his face.
“Are you in a hurry?”
You might say that.
“What do you think?”
“It appears that you are.”
“Well, you’re right.”
“Can’t you even look at me, Kim?”
It took all the self-control she possessed not to scurry out of the tent at that moment. But she didn’t. Slowly, she lifted her face to look at Thad.
He was lying on his side, propped on one elbow. His shirt was open several buttons down and she glimpsed a small expanse of his firm chest. Her gaze traveled to his chin, his thin lips, and then to his eyes. Sleep softened, they looked almost pleadingly sad. Her heart ached. A tingle of remorse shot up within her. She wanted more than anything to go to this man and fall into his arms. But it would do her no good. There could never be anything permanent for the two of them.
But could it hurt to have something temporary? Just this last time?
Thad’s gaze met hers and held. Kim swallowed and wet her parched lips. She didn’t know what to say, or do. And she knew if she stayed there like that, for one moment longer, the tears would come and it would be all over.
“I have to leave, Thad,” she whispered. “I have to.” She needed time. And she had to go home to think it all through.
He nodded, hesitantly. Reluctantly? “Then I’ll take you to the train.”
****
The Elk Park spur of the Narrow Gauge Railroad loomed before them. Kim stared at the coal-burning locomotive, which made daily trips from Silverton to Durango. She wondered how many cowboys had dropped their women off here in the past, because the delicate creatures were more suited to the refinement of the east, than the rough living of the west. Certainly, she wasn’t the first. And she probably wouldn’t be the last. The irony of it all set her a bit on edge.
Heaving in a thorough sigh, Kim glanced to Thad, then dismounted the horse. All morning long her thoughts had returned to one notion. What would she do if Thad asked her to stay? Even if just for a little while? Could she forget the silliness of the past few days and try a normal existence with him?
But he wasn’t going to do that. All morning long he’d sat sternly in the saddle on the horse in front of her and led her down the mountain and into Elk Park. He hadn’t asked her then. He wouldn’t ask her now.
Somehow, she was disappointed.
She rounded Sunshine and looked up into Thad’s blank face. “I guess you’ll take the horse back with you?”
He nodded and she handed him the reins.
“How long will it take you to get back to the ranch?”
“Depends,” he answered blandly.
“On what?”
“On whether I take the direct route or decide to hang around up there a while. I’ve got no reason to hurry home.”
Kim bit her lip. “Oh.” Glancing back at the train, the hikers and tourists hurriedly boarding, Kim figured she’d better get moving also. “I think I need to go now.”
She watched as Thad reached into his back pocket for his wallet and slipped out a thin piece of paper. He shoved it at her. “Here’s your ticket. It’s part of the pack trip package.”
Hesitantly, Kim took the ticket while engaging his gaze. “But I didn’t pay for the trip. Do you want me to pay you?”
He grimaced and shook his head. Maybe it would have been easier if they’d kept it strictly business, she thought. “I don’t want your money, Kim.”
Then what do you want?
The words were almost out of her mouth, but she stopped them. It was no use. “All right.” Dropping her hand to her side, she glanced back at the train. Slowly, she returned her gaze to Thad. “I have to go.”
He dropped his head. “I know.”
“I’ll call when I get home.”
“Whatever you want. I don’t know when I’ll be there.”
She backed up a few steps. “Oh. Well, I’ll try again if I don’t get you. Or you can try me.”
She backed away two steps from Thad and his horse. Passengers boarded behind her. It was difficult for her to tear her gaze away from his. Then his lips moved.
“Kim, if I asked you to stay…if I told you I loved you, would it make a difference?”
Something difficult to describe surged up inside her and tightened in her chest. Her breathing grew more shallow. Her eyes never left his. “Are you going to tell me you love me? Ask me to stay?” she whispered.
Thad glanced off then, and Kim watched him stare into the mountains. Train sounds grew louder behind them and people rushed by. Neither of them noticed.
Finally, Thad faced her and said, “No, I’m not going to ask you to stay.”
Kim tried to show little emotion. It was difficult. Her heart was pounding too damned erratically. “Then I guess it wouldn’t make a difference, would it?”
He shook his head. Their eyes held the longest connection, then without saying good-bye, Kim turned and walked away, unable to endure his blank gaze a moment longer. As she approached the train, she blindly made her way through the crowd and allowed herself to be swallowed into the sea of people ascending the steps to the train. She never looked back.
She couldn’t bear to see him standing there, all alone.
Just one thought reverberated through her head, her heart. He hadn’t said he didn’t love her, only that he wasn’t going to ask her to say.
There was a difference.
****
Thad stared at the railroad tracks until the tail end of the train was lost into the horizon. His chest ached. His gut hurt. His eyes burned from the damned-blasted tears he refused to shed. Kim was gone. He’d let her go. And she’d never be back. He was sure of it.
If only she’d asked him for more time. If only she’d given him some reason to ask her to stay, he would have risked it. But she hadn’t. And he didn’t possess the stamina right now to go out on a limb and get burned. He just couldn’t do it.
He tied the mare’s reins to his saddle and abruptly turned toward the mountains. He had a two day’s ride in front of him if he pushed it. Three if he decided to take it easy. Getting back to the ranch wasn’t a priority. When he’d told Kim earlier that there was nothing to go home to, he was right. And he wasn’t quite sure why he’d even mentioned it. It was just the truth.
He didn’t resent the fact that she’d left, he simply regretted that he didn’t have the guts to ask her to stay. To try and figure out a way for them to make it. To tell her he’d call her. No, they were both better off just letting it go right now. Before they’d become too attached, too much in love.
Feeling rather remote and distant, he headed back up into the mountains, where he belonged.
Chapter Seventeen
For the ten-thousandth time, Kim stared down at the newspaper in her lap and attempted to read the front page. It was useless. For the ten-thousandth time, her brain refused to comprehend what she was reading.
Jillie punched her shoulder. “Coffee?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll float out of here if I drink any more.”
“How about some toast, then. You look a little peaked. Maybe you should eat something, instead of drinking all that coffee.”
Kim knew she was probably right. But coffee was the only thing that seemed to get her up and going these days. For the first time in eight years, she was having difficulty dragging her butt out of bed and getting to school. Thank goodness for Jillie. She had managed to work miracles with her for the past month.
But she figured Jillie wasn’t doing it out of any sense of loyalty. Jillie was fighting her own battle at the moment, and keep herself busy was her best defense. Kim had simply reduced herself to a mass of human, blubbering flesh.
“Better get a move on, we’re going to be late again. You know how Len Harper loves to tattle to the front office whenever any of the faculty is late.”
Kim rose from her seat and tossed the unread paper aside. Yeah, she knew. “Len Harper needs to retire,” she returned blandly. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Sure. We’ve got the time. Just no more, you hear me?” Jillie called up the stairs of their townhouse apartment as Kim headed for her bedroom.
She didn’t know why she had no energy. Ever since they’d returned from Colorado, she’d had difficulty getting herself up and off to school. Jillie kept telling her she was in mourning for Thad.
Ridiculous, she’d bantered back. She’d mourn for no man. She dressed quickly and made a quick attempt at makeup, then met Jillie at the front door.
“If you don’t mind me saying so, Kim, you could use a refresher course on makeup application.” She reached out and smoothed a finger along her cheek. “You’ve got foundation caked against your ear and mascara dotting your upper eyelid. If you’re not going to pay any more attention than that, then perhaps you should just skip the makeup altogether.”
Kim thought it sounded like a good idea. One less hassle in the morning. She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a thought.”
Jillie drove and Kim watched the scenery. After a while, Jillie broke the Golden Rule. The one they’d agreed on about never talking about Colorado.
“Do you ever think about Thad, Kim? I mean, you know, when you least expect it, does his face ever pop into your head?”
Like every night when I lay down to go to sleep
, she wanted to answer. “Jillie, we’re not supposed to talk about that.”
“I know, Kim, but we’re going to have to talk about it at some point. It’s been over a month and ever since we vowed that we wouldn’t mention it again, it’s been eating at me. And I know it has been you, too.”
Kim stared at her. “What makes you say that?”
“Because you look like hell, you’ve lost about ten pounds, and you cry into your pillow every night.”
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do!”
Kim turned away in disgust. “Well, at least I don’t moan Thad’s name in my sleep, like you do Mack’s.”
Jillie sighed. “You do that, too, only I wasn’t going to mention it.”
Kim snorted. Silence filled the space between them in the small sports car.
“You know,” Jillie began again, “sometimes I wonder if I was wrong, walking out on Mack like that.”
Kim continued to stare out the window. “You had no choice, Jillie. He lied to you.”
“Not really, he just forgot to tell me something.”
“Not telling you that he has a son is an important omission.”
“I know, and it really threw me for a loop.”
“Well, at least you had something concrete to go on. I, on the other hand, simply left.”
“You had good reason to do what you did.”
She turned and looked at her. “Oh, yeah. I got upset because all he wanted to do was protect me. To help me. I had to go all ballistic on him.”
“It was the principle of the thing, Kim.”
She knew it was. “If he had just wanted to talk about it. If I hadn’t gone and flown off the handle. If both of us hadn’t been so damned stubborn. Sometimes I wonder...”
The car slowed as Jillie pulled into the school parking lot. They heard a bell ring as they got out of the car.
“Sometimes you wonder what, Kim?”
She shook off the thought. “Never mind.”
Jillie walked silently beside her. “Hey, maybe we should order in pizza tonight, rent a couple of sappy movies, and cry all night long. Maybe then we’d get it out of our systems.”
Kim shook her head. “I promised Mom and Dad I’d have dinner with them tonight. Then I’ve got a League meeting.”