something wrong. I knew it. Is it her injury?”
Howard swung around. “Dinner is ready.”
Nate gritted his teeth. What were they hiding? He intended to find out. Maybe the injury was worse than she had made it out to be. Had she been asked to leave the New York ballet company since she became hurt in the middle of their spring season? That would bother her since she’d dreamed of working with them above any other dance company. But if that was the case, he was certain she could triumph over the obstacle. When Kit performed, she pulled a person into the ballet story with grace and poise. She had so much to give the world with her abilities. Surely there was another company she could work with, if that was why she was upset.
He told himself it wasn’t really his concern. Whatever was troubling Kit, he was sure she’d find a solution—one that would take her far away from Cimarron City, and back to the world she’d chosen over him.
* * *
Having removed her prosthetic leg, Kathleen used her crutches to move around the cabin. She was thankful that Beth had stocked the kitchen, because she was hungry. She’d been looking forward to a good dinner, but had been driven earlier by her wheeling emotions to flee her brother’s house. When would she be ready to deal with others? Maybe she would have been better off staying in her apartment in New York, where she could be one of anonymous millions, in a town where she wouldn’t have to deal with others’ questions.
A moment of madness had prompted her to sublease her apartment for a couple of months and escape to Oklahoma. That, and her brother and Beth hammering at her resolve to stay in New York City. But the main motivator for her to leave had been when her dance buddies began ignoring her wishes to be alone and started dropping by to cheer her up. Nothing they did had worked. She knew she needed a change of scenery. As soon as she’d received the necessary help with her new prosthetic limb and the physical therapy she needed to be able to get around on her own, she’d hopped on a plane. She’d put everything into that, and since she was in good physical shape, she had succeeded quickly.
Now what do I do?
Kathleen rummaged in the refrigerator and withdrew some sliced turkey, lettuce and a tomato. As she searched for the bread, a knock sounded at her door. She thought of ignoring it, but when whoever was outside rapped again, she knew she had to answer it and tell the person face-to-face that she was going to bed soon and would talk later.
But when she opened the door, Beth charged into the cabin, carrying a plate wrapped in foil. “I know you’re trying to watch what you eat, but I figure you’ll get hungry sometime tonight so I brought dinner to you. Fried chicken is good hot or cold.”
“I was going to make myself a sandwich.”
Beth glanced over her shoulder at the turkey and other fixings on the counter. “Well, now you don’t have to. This dinner was made especially for you. I know how much you used to love your mother’s fried chicken. Howard tells me I prepare it as good as she does. I consider that a high compliment.” She placed the plate on the small dining table and patted her hips. “As you can see, I’ve enjoyed fixing and eating it often. You could stand to have a little of this fat.”
Kathleen stared at her friend, then for the first time in a long while burst out laughing. If she didn’t, she might cry. She laughed so hard that tears rolled down her face, and she swiped them away. “I’m not going to blow away.”
“Who knows? You know how windy it can get in Oklahoma. What if we have a tornado?”
“I’ll join the family in the storm cellar.”
“Sit down. Eat. I’ll get you some of the tea I fixed for you and put the turkey up. You can have a sandwich tomorrow.” Beth did as she said, then joined Kathleen at the table, sitting in the chair next to her. When Kathleen unwrapped the plate and took a bite of the chicken, her friend asked, “What do you think?”
“Delicious, but you don’t need me to tell you that. I’m sure my brother has on many occasions. If he hasn’t, I’ll have a word with him.” Kathleen enjoyed some more of the meat, then dove into the baked beans and coleslaw.
“Sorry the baked beans might be a little cold.”
“I haven’t eaten since I had breakfast at the airport this morning. And this sure beats that meal, even with cold beans.”
Beth rubbed her hands together. “I’m gonna fatten you up in no time.”
“We’ll see about that,” Kathleen said when she finished off the coleslaw. “You know how much I love this. Maybe you can teach me to cook. I guess I have time to learn now. With the company, my schedule was so busy that I usually ate out or had frozen dinners.”
“Carrie has been begging me to teach her to cook, too. Maybe I’ll work with both of you together. The three Somers girls.”
After appeasing her thirst with several large swallows of cold iced tea, Kathleen turned to the fried chicken again. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because this is my problem, not yours. I’ll overcome it like I have everything.” Kathleen tried to put conviction into her voice, but even she heard the flat tone as though there was no life behind the words. “Remember that summer I sprained my ankle? I was back dancing in six weeks.”
“This isn’t a sprained ankle, Kit. I wish it were. Let me help you.” Beth covered Kathleen’s hand.
She snatched hers away. “I’m fine. I wish people wouldn’t smother me. I’m not like a fragile china doll.” Or am I? She felt broken like one that had been dropped onto the concrete.
Beth’s eyebrows lifted. “Smother you? I’m not doing that. I’m being a caring sister-in-law and friend. That means being there for you—and helping you whether you think you need it or not. And it won’t just be me. Lots of people are going to want to help.”
“Why would they? No one knows what happened, right?”
“Yes, for now. But you can’t keep your injury a secret forever. Nate kept asking us why you were here, how long you would be at the ranch.”
“It’s none of his business.”
“That isn’t going to stop him. You two were in love once. I know it didn’t work out, but you all were so close in high school—the two of you, and your group of friends. They’ll all want to be there for you while you deal with this. Maybe it’s time you lean on the Lord, family and friends. There’s nothing wrong in doing that. We all need the comfort and strengths of others from time to time. It doesn’t mean you’re weak.”
“You think this is about feeling weak? I don’t feel weak as much as lost.”
“It’s not like your injury is a big secret. It was in the news in New York City.”
“A brief mention of a traffic accident buried in the paper. Hardly a big announcement and certainly nothing about my amputation.”
“I don’t want my children finding out from anyone but you, or at the least Howard and me. Just so you know everything, Reverend Johnson at church knows.”
Shifting toward
