more she walked the faster she would become accustomed to her prosthesis. “Sure.” While he headed for the exit, she struggled to a standing position, still not completing that simple action effortlessly.
Turning toward Kit, Nate held the door open for her to exit first, then fell into step beside her. “You never answered me about helping while you’re here. It’ll give you something to do and, as I said, help a desperate man.”
“I hardly think you’re desperate. You’re one of the most organized people I know. Let me think about it. I just hate committing to too much right now.” She couldn’t totally stop herself from favoring her injured leg as she strolled toward the barn.
“The youth group is a great bunch of kids—you’ll like them.”
“I haven’t agreed yet. You haven’t changed one bit. You can still steamroll a person into doing whatever you want.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear I haven’t lost my touch. Working with teens is so rewarding.”
She shook her head, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “As I said, let me think about it more than a few minutes. I just got here and haven’t even settled in.”
“That almost sounds like you’ll be here longer than a couple of weeks. How serious is your injury?”
Kathleen gritted her teeth and regretted her comment. It was hard guarding her thoughts and words, especially with Nate, who was perceptive and knew her too well. She didn’t have to be so cautious with Howard and Beth and that gave her a sense of freedom. Peering at Nate, she paused under a large oak tree near the barn, not far from the wooden bench under it. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.
His gaze fastened onto the action, and his brow furrowed. “You’re not telling me something.”
She didn’t want to have this conversation. It had been hard enough going through the process of telling Howard and Beth. She’d done that over the phone. Not half a day later her brother had been in her hospital room, ready to whisk her back to Oklahoma. To smother her with the help and attention he thought she needed. The problem was she didn’t know what she needed. She’d begged God to show what to do with her life since being a ballerina was no longer an option. She’d had no real choice about keeping her leg, and at the moment she didn’t feel she had many choices for her future.
“Your silence doesn’t bode well, Kit. Can you continue your career?”
Her throat closed. Emotions she’d tried to keep at bay since she’d returned home surged through her. She now realized leaving New York City had been her first move away from her dream of dancing as a prima ballerina. She’d been so close to reaching the top.
“Now you really have me worried.”
She swung her full attention toward Nate. “I didn’t ask you to worry about me.” I do enough of that on my own.
“What’s wrong with your leg? You’re limping. Will physical therapy help?”
“No...” The words to tell him rose in her, but a knot in her throat kept them inside.
“Have you thought about aqua therapy? I’ve done some with race horses, and it has been successful.”
“It won’t make a difference because...” She sucked in a stabilizing breath. “I lost my left leg from the knee down.” The last part of the sentence came out in a bare whisper.
But Nate heard.
His eyes grew round, and the color drained from his face. “Why didn’t you say something yesterday?” He cleared his throat. “I mean I went on and on about your dancing. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have said—”
“Stop right there. I’m not a porcelain china doll that you have to be extra careful with. I don’t want your pity.”
“And you won’t get it.” A steel thread strengthened each word. “I know you. If anyone can overcome something like this it’s you. I don’t pity you, but you can’t stop me from caring and being concerned.” Again that soft tone entered his voice.
She backed away until she gently bumped against the wooden bench. He closed the distance between them, trapping her. His gaze searched her features, penetratingly intense. She looked away and caught her brother standing in the entrance to the barn, watching them.
A band constricted about her chest as if Nate had roped her. Tears pricked her eyes. “I think you should check on Cinnamon. I’ll see her later.”
Please, Lord, help me get back to the cabin without crying. I don’t want Nate or my brother to see me have a meltdown. Please. Please give me this.
“Kit, you aren’t alone.”
Yes, I am. I’m the one who has to live with this. She squeezed past Nate and hobbled as fast as she could toward the cabin, her limp more evident the quicker her pace.
When she reached the safety of her temporary home, she sank onto the nearest chair, and the tears she’d thought she’d conquered swamped her, running down her cheeks.
She didn’t know who she was anymore.
* * *
A stabbing ache pierced Nate as he watched Kit limp away, but he steeled himself. She’d broken his heart years ago, and he was determined she wouldn’t again. But he didn’t want to see her like she was—he grappled with the word to describe it. Hurting, yes, but it was much more than that.
Defeated.
He’d never seen Kit give up. But they hadn’t seen each other in over eight years. He didn’t really know her anymore. He’d changed. Grown up. Become more focused on what he wanted. More anchored in his faith. Kit used to be a firm believer. Was she still? She would need the Lord to help her through the adjustments to a new life.
“Give her time,” Howard said behind Nate.
He pivoted toward Kit’s brother. “Who else knows?”
“Beth and our pastor. The kids don’t even know. Kit hasn’t accepted it yet. She tells me she has, but she hasn’t.”
“What can I do?”
“Like I said, give her time. She’ll get there eventually.”
“Will she be here that long?”
Howard stared past Nate toward the cabin where Kit was and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think she does, either. But this is the best place for her.”
“She’ll figure that out.” Nate prayed she would. He still cared about her as a friend. “I’m trying to get her to help me with the fund-raiser for the mission trip. Put in a good word for me.” Nate began walking toward the barn. “I’ll check on Cinnamon and be on my way. But I’m coming back. Kit may not think she needs anyone, but she does.”
Howard followed him. “Why are you doing this? You were willing to compromise years ago. She’s the one who decided to cut all ties when she moved to New York.”
Howard’s question stopped Nate in his tracks. He
