I Love You Again (6 page)

Kit raised an eyebrow. “Good, you’ve been doing it to me for nearly fifty years.”

“That’s right, you’re fifty,” Bess said in awe.

“Not yet,” Kit said angrily.

“God, Kit. Dale really could be your daughter.”

Kit glared at both women. She finished the cocktail in one gulp.

“Did I enjoy it?”

Kit ignored Bess and was about to continue with her mother when Dale walked into the dining room.

“Look,” Helen said happily. “It’s Dale.”

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Kit whispered angrily.

“There you are.” Dale stood behind Kit. “Mind if I steal her, Mrs. Weston?”

“At this moment? I think it’s a very good idea. Steal away.”

Kit stood when Dale grabbed her hand. “Let’s go check out the scenery. I’m sure there are plenty of hiking trails around here.”

“And don’t forget the rock climbing,” Helen said. “Plenty of rocks here. There’s a rather large snow-covered one…”

“I prefer mine in a glass,” Bess said thoughtfully, looking at her empty glass. “Or on my finger.”

Dale laughed. “We haven’t officially met.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Kit said. “This is Bess Adams. Bess, Dale Caldwell.”

“We finally meet,” Bess said, taking the offered hand.

“Yes. Kit’s mentioned how good a friend you are.”

“Remember that,” Bess said dryly, looking at Kit.

“Well, nice to meet you. We’ll catch up later. I think we’re going to head out.” Dale pulled, practically dragging Kit along.

Helen waved. “Have fun. Don’t break my daughter. I lost the assembly instructions years ago, and I don’t think they make the parts any longer. And if you see Roz…” She held up her empty glass.

Kit got one good glare out before Dale yanked her out the door.

********

“It’s beautiful here,” Dale said as they walked the gravel path away from the lodge.

Kit had to agree. The sun was shining, the cool mountain breeze wafted over them, and with the Rockies as the backdrop and the stream beside them, it was a romantic setting. She glanced at Dale. It should be anyway. She took a deep breath, trying to cool the anger she still felt.

“Let’s go take a look at the bait shop. I heard there are brochures on all the activities in the area.”

“Sure.” Kit wanted to be in a good mood. This really wasn’t Dale’s fault, though the situation still angered her.

As they walked in, Roz was sitting behind the counter. So this was where she went off to in a huff. Just like always, Kit thought. Only at home, they argued, and Roz jumped on her lawnmower, cutting the grass if it needed it or not.

Kit tried to ignore her heart and her body temperature, which rose exponentially as she watched Roz hover over some contraption; it was then Kit realized what she was doing—her beloved fly tying. She had been attracted to it years ago but never had the time. Now apparently, she was happy and had the time for her love. Her black reading glasses were perched on the end of her nose, her brow furrowed in concentration. And her hair, Kit thought, what was once dark with gray streaks was now almost the opposite. But her eyes, those damned blue eyes. The fathead…

Roz looked up over her glasses when they entered. Their eyes met, and once again, Kit had to take a breath when the deep blue eyes regarded her. Then the smug grin appeared, and so did Kit’s pride. She stood tall and smiled sweetly.

Roz chuckled and took off her glasses. “Good afternoon,” she said. “You kids having fun?”

Kit closed her eyes and breathed heavily.

“Hi,” Dale said happily as she looked around. “Got any brochures on hiking or rock climbing?”

“Sure, right over there on that stand. Toward the top.”

“Thanks,” Dale said, perusing the brochures.

“And is there anything you’d like?” Roz said to Kit.

“Several things come to mind—”

“That doesn’t involve murder? So do you fly fish?” Roz asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Dale looked up. “Kit?” She laughed then, much to Kit’s ire. “And I don’t, either, but I’ve always wanted to learn. I’ve watched all the shows on the Travel Channel. I’m amazed at some of the big fish they get out of those streams…”

“Well, this stream doesn’t have trophy fish, I’m afraid. We’ll get some good-sized trout, but I usually catch and release the little guys.”

“What’s that you’re doing there?” Dale motioned to the fly-tying vise. “Oh, making the flies?”

“Yes. I’m getting the hang of it. I got into it years ago,” she said thoughtfully.

“Got hooked on it, eh?” Dale asked. “Get it?”

Roz exchanged a curious glance with Kit.

“Hooked? Fishing?” Dale went on and laughed.

Roz raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Pun intended.”

“So you got hooked on it,” Dale said, still chuckling.

“Yes. Much to my wife’s chagrin.”

Kit immediately noticed the platinum band Roz still wore. She looked down at her left hand and studied the indentation of her missing ring. She had just taken it off the week before. A pang of regret tore through her so palpable Kit had to walk away, as if putting distance between them would make a difference somehow. She could barely breathe, and she knew Roz watched her pick up a booklet and leaf through it; she had no idea what it was.

“Aha!” Dale said triumphantly. “I knew you played for our team. So did your wife come around?”

Kit’s heart ached, waiting for Roz’s answer. She looked out the window unable to move.

“No,” Roz said softly.

“Sorry,” Dale said.

“Thanks. But I was a little selfish. I should have paid more attention to what she wanted.” Roz sat back. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

Dale chuckled. “Words of wisdom from an old sage?”

Roz laughed then. “Not wisdom but definitely old.”

“Oh, c’mon. You’re not that old.” Dale leaned in and grinned. “I’d say late forties.”

“Here’s a word of advice,” Roz said, leaning in, as well. “Don’t play the lotto. You’re not good at guessing.”

Dale laughed then. “Really? Well, I won’t ask…”

“Fifty-eight.”

Kit closed her eyes, pleading with God above to stop this topic. She glanced at Dale, whose jaw dropped in amazement.

“No! That means you’re…” Dale started counting on her fingers.

“Don’t bother. You’ll run out of fingers, and don’t sound so amazed. It’ll hit you, as well, someday. Though I’ll probably be dead…” she mumbled.

Mercifully, Dale did not ask anything of a personal nature. It reminded Kit then, for the millionth time, that in the two years Roz had been gone, they never talked and never discussed the house or what to do with it. Funny she would think of that now. She remembered when they purchased it. It was a starter home but plenty big enough for the two of them.

Both had good-paying jobs, and with a very healthy down payment, they had it paid off in fifteen years. Then when the recession hit in 2009, Kit’s real estate company took a major hit, and Roz’s landscaping and nursery business nearly went under. It had been Bess who had guided them in the right direction with their retirements and savings and her idea to pay off the house as early as possible. Kit’s mind wandered back to their first night in the house. The furniture hadn’t arrived, so they ate their Chinese takeout out of the cartons and talked about the future, then made love on the floor in front of the fireplace.

 
“Is there a certain rod and reel I should get if I’m a novice?” Dale wandered off to the fishing tackle rack. She picked up a rod to examine it. “How about this one?”

Roz walked from behind the counter to assist her, and in doing so, she had to scoot by Kit. When Kit felt her hands on her shoulder, she cursed her heartbeat once again.

“I’d say try this rod,” Roz said, choosing a different one. “And this reel. It’s not expensive, and it’s fine if you’re just starting out.” She turned to Kit. “How about you? Oh, that’s right. You don’t like to fish.”

“No,” Kit said, stepping away from them.

Dale laughed. “Kitty Kat is all girl.”

Kit glared at Dale, who wasn’t paying attention as she examined the fishing tackle.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Roz grinned. “We can’t all be stubborn and butch.”

Kit, against every fiber in her body, grinned, as well. “There has to be somebody in the relationship with some common sense.”

The melancholy look on Roz’s face had Kit’s heart aching. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. As I’m sure you are most of the time, Miss Weston.”

“Not always,” Kit whispered.

It was a long moment while they looked at each other. Kit felt her chest tighten; she folded her arms across her chest and looked anywhere else but at Roz.

“I’ll take it!” Dale said, thrusting the rod and reel at Roz.

“Would you like to pay for it now? I can put it on your bill when you check out.”

“That’s fine,” Dale said. “I suppose I’ll need flies, as well.”

“Right over here.” Roz led her back to the counter. “I usually use these.”

As she wrote up the receipt, she stole a glance at Kit, who had walked up to gaze out the window.

“If I beg you, would you have time to get me started?” Dale asked, leaning on the counter.

Roz raised an eyebrow. “No begging required.” She was amazed and irritated when Dale’s bottom lip turned into a pout.

“Really. No begging?” she whispered.

Roz avoided Kit completely as she handed Dale her purchase. “How about tomorrow morning?”

“Great,” Dale said. “What time?”

“I know you’re on vacation, but the earlier the better.”

“Oh, that’s fine. After breakfast. How about eight?”

“That’s fine. Meet you here.”

Dale looked at the brochure. “You’ve got hiking trails here, I see.”

Roz laughed then. “This whole state is a hiking trail, you’ll find out. But yes, I have plenty of trails.” She walked over to the window by Kit and stood behind her. “See the bend in the stream?” she asked. “The trail is just beyond that. It’s a good four-mile trail there and back. There are other smaller secondary trails that branch off, but I’d be careful. You know wildlife and all that. I suggest taking the maps with you, and you have the number of the lodge in case you wander off. It took me a while to get used to them. I’ve been turned around several times.” She laughed quietly. “Though that could just be me.”

Kit listened to Roz as she talked. So many memories flashed through her mind, so many she’d pushed back, refusing to think about them. When she instinctively felt her body gravitate toward Roz, she leaned away.

“That sounds great. Kitty Kat, let’s go for a walk. We’ll work up an appetite,” Dale said, pulling on her arm.

Roz leaned against the window frame and smiled. “You enjoy the rest of your day,” she said to Kit.

Kit swallowed and nodded, then allowed Dale to pull her out of the shop.

Chapter 5

Roz watched them as they walked down the hiking trail and out of sight.

“Kitty Kat.” She let out a miserable sigh and started back to the lodge. “And that little shit was flirting with me.”

She found Helen and Bess in the same spot—by the fire, laughing and talking. Probably planning an invasion somewhere, Roz thought. Mark stood by the bar, gazing lovingly at Bess.

“Good Lord,” she whispered. “Mark? Mark!”

“Huh?” he asked dreamily, never taking his eyes off Bess.

“Don’t you have something to do?”

“Oh, sure, sure.” He sighed and disappeared into the kitchen.

Helen looked up. “Well, you’re back. I’m parched. It’s like living on a desert.”

“My apologies.” Roz placed her hands on Helen’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

Helen reached back and placed her hand over Roz’s. “And you have much to apologize for. Leaving me these two years with only Bess.”

Bess smiled when Helen winked.

“I can imagine.” Roz laughed and walked back to the bar. Her mind was on everything but mixing the daiquiris. She thought of Kit, looking wonderful and not looking any older since the day she left. She let her hair grow a few inches, as well. She must be happy, Roz thought. She turned and felt the twinge of pain in her knee and caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar—Bess was right, her hair was all salt and very little pepper. When in the hell did that happen? She picked up the bottle of rum and angrily turned on the blender.

She poured two drinks and took them back to the table. “
Miladies
, your cocktails.”

“Thank you, my darling,” Helen said. “And be kind to that blender. We’ll need it this weekend. Now sit.”

“Helen, I have customers…”

“Sit. There’s no one around. Oh, but that one young man.” She looked at Bess.

“Nate Hutchins,” Bess said with a wide grin.

“Oh, really?” Roz said.

“He came in and introduced himself.”

“He had no choice. Bess practically threw herself at him.” Helen sighed dramatically. “It was
très
gauche.”

“I did not. Anyway, he’s joining me for dinner,” Bess said with an eyebrow wiggle.

“He seems very…” Helen seemed to search for the right word.

“Rich?” Roz asked dryly.

“Don’t be vulgar. You sound like Kit. Worldly was the word I was looking for. And he’s very well dressed. And has nice teeth. And devilishly handsome. Bess could do worse. Besides, she’s alone too much. She needs someone.”

“Oh, please,” Bess said.

Roz sat next to Helen. “So it appears Kit has found someone.” She absently played with the linen napkin on the table.

Helen let out a rude snort. “You two will be the death of me. I gave up the hope of a grandchild a long time ago when Kit couldn’t boil water and you had absolutely no patience.”

“Hey, we decided we didn’t want children. We talked about it for a couple years. It was a very mature decision.”

“I’m sure it was. A child should never be more mature than the parents. Now I will not give up hope on you two, as ridiculous as you’ve been.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“She looks wonderful,” Roz whispered. “And happy.”

“That’s a façade,” Helen said dryly.

“Well, it’s working.” Roz dejectedly sat back. “And that kid seems to be nice.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Helen sat forward. “The woman you adore—the woman you love—is about to make the biggest, if not the worst, menopausal mistake in her life, and you say the kid seems nice?”

“Are there good menopausal mistakes?” Roz cocked her head.

Bess chuckled at Helen’s near hysterical tone. “See, Helen, you’re being redundant or oxymoronic. Oh, just calm down before you blow a gasket.”

“Kit is a grown woman,” Roz started.

“Who’s afraid of getting old.” Helen shook her head. “She’s about to embark on a ridiculous affair with this young child.”

Bess laughed. “Helen, Dale is not a child. She has to be at least…” She thought for a moment. “Well, doesn’t she?”

Helen looked at Roz. “I don’t know. You saw her driver’s license.”

“I can’t tell you.” Roz folded her arms across her chest. “She’s a customer. It’s a matter of
confiden
—”

“Rosalind Anne Maguire.”

“Thirty-two.”

Bess nearly choked on her drink. She quickly picked up a napkin and wiped her mouth. “Thirty-two?”

Helen shook her head. “Kit, Kit. You are such a little fool.”

“Kit is not. She’s—”

“Menopausal,” Bess interjected as she wiped off the front of her blouse.

“Whatever the reason, turning fifty is a big deal for her. And you brought her here, Helen. Geez.” Roz ran her fingers through her hair.

“You love her,” Helen whispered.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s the only thing that does matter, and both of you know it. And you’re both petulant. I have a good mind to leave.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re staying right here. You started this mess—”

As Helen laughed, her eyes widened as she looked past Roz. “Rosalind, there’s a very large young man taking up the entire doorway. I think he could blot out the sun.”

Roz turned to see Stan standing in the dining room doorway. He waved at Roz, who beckoned to him.

“I hate to intrude,” he said, taking off his dirty baseball cap.

“You’re not,” Roz said. “This is…”

“Roz’s mother-in-law.” Helen held out her hand. “But you may call me Helen.”

Stan grinned, his dimples cutting deep lines in his cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you, Helen. Roz has talked about you. In a nice way,” he went on quickly. “I’m Stan.” He looked at Bess. “Hello, Miss Adams.”

“Oh, you’ve met?” Helen looked at Roz, who grinned and nodded. Helen raised an eyebrow of approval. “Hmm. Then you must call her Bess.”

“May I call you Bess?”

“Sure,” she said nonchalantly.

Helen raised the other eyebrow, watching them as she sipped her drink. “I think you should join us, Stan.”

Bess gave Helen a warning glance, which Helen did not acknowledge, or she just flat-out ignored.

“Oh, no. Thank you, though.” He turned to Roz. “Your part came in for the bush hog. Got it in the truck. If you want, I can fix it up right now.”

“Bush hog?” Helen asked; she looked at Bess. “Is that an animal?”

“And I should know that how?”

Stan laughed. “It’s part of Roz’s tractor.”

“Which you do not have to fix now,” Roz said.

“It’s no problem. You’re gonna need that if you want to cut that thick pasture back. A cold front is coming in, and even though it’s not supposed to get below freezing, you don’t want to risk it.”

“Well,” Roz said hesitantly. “Okay. On one condition. A free dinner here whenever you want.” When Stan hesitated, Roz went on. “Stella promised Helen a rack of lamb tonight for dinner…”

Stan’s eyes lit up. “Well.”

“It’s settled. And you shall be my guest,” Helen said. “I hate to eat alone, and Bess has a dinner date.”

Roz was shocked at the crestfallen look on Stan’s face when he looked down at Bess. “Already?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

Helen grinned evilly as she watched. What a weekend, Roz thought, wishing she had poured herself a cocktail and slipped a little Valium in Helen’s. Oh, not too much. Just enough to knock her out for the weekend and deposit her back on a plane.

Beneath his two-day growth of beard, Stan blushed. “I meant nothing.” He laughed nervously and scratched at his chin.

“Don’t say nothing. It sounded like something—”

“But old man river…” Helen intervened quickly. “Well, young man, I insist you join me now. Any man that can irritate Bess so badly, so quickly that she might throw an embolism has my vote. Dinner’s at seven.”

Stan chuckled and nodded. “I’d love to, Helen. Thank you. I’ll just go fix the bush hog.” He was still laughing as he walked away.

“Who does he think he is? The Neanderthal.” Bess angrily sat back. “And will someone introduce him to a razor and a shower?”

“I like him,” Helen announced. “Nothing wrong with a Neanderthal. Big hands…” She stared off into space.

“There is something really wrong with you.”

“What’s gotten into you all the sudden?” Helen let out a genuine laugh. “Elizabeth Adams, you don’t fool me for a second. This is turning out to be a wonderful start to the weekend.”

“And you’re insane.” Roz leaned over and kissed her cheek. “But I do love you. And I have to get back to work. No more cocktails until you’ve eaten something.”

“Speak of the devil,” Helen said.

Stella came out of the kitchen carrying a platter.

“Of course,” Roz said. “Silver platter, no doubt.”

“No doubt,” Helen said, eyeing the platter.

“I took the liberty,” Stella said, setting the plate on the table. “Antipasto for two.”

Roz’s mouth watered; she didn’t know they had all this in the kitchen. Several kinds of cheese, olives, meats… She reached down, and Helen slapped at her hand.

“Shoo,” she said affectionately, placing a napkin in her lap.

“I’ll leave you to your feast.” Roz bowed and walked away.

“By the way,” Helen asked. “Where is my daughter?”

“Frolicking in the woods,” Roz said. “I hope they don’t get lost.”

********

“Are we lost?” Kit asked, trying not to sound like a harmonica; she took deep slow breaths, but it didn’t help. They had been walking for forty-five minutes—she was exhausted forty minutes ago. She sat on the huge boulder and flexed her feet.

Dale laughed. “No, we’re not lost. But we’d probably better get back. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“We need to get you into shape,” Dale said. She hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Kit glared at her when she stood. “Let’s get back.”

“Seriously. When we get home, you’re going on an exercise regimen.” She reached in and pinched Kit’s waist. “Get rid of the love handle.”

“I know you mean well, but I’m a grown woman, and I don’t need to be told what I’m going to do,” Kit said and walked away.

Dale laughed, which really irritated Kit. “Kit, wait. I’m sorry. But you said yourself you wanted to shed some weight.” She caught up and walked beside her. “I know how to do it. You’ll look great.”

Kit stopped and turned to her. “I’ll look great? Meaning what? I don’t
now
?”

The blank look on Dale’s face was priceless.

“Suppose, just suppose for a moment, that I couldn’t get into the shape you wanted. Suppose I had a glandular problem or something.”

“You don’t, though. Do you?”

Kit closed her eyes. “Can you use your imagination for a moment?”

“Okay…”

“What if I had a medical issue that precluded me from losing any weight?” She extended her arms out. “And this was as good as it would ever get?”

“Uh…”

Kit glared. “Not the response I wanted.” She started walking again. “Or needed.”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be so thin-skinned. You took me off-guard. Of course it wouldn’t make a difference to me.”

Kit snorted and kept walking. They walked the rest of the way back in silence, which was fine with Kit, she was out of breath anyway and limping.

“I have a surprise for you,” Dale finally said.

“You do?”

“Yep. I know the owner of a local skydiving outfit.”

Kit’s blood ran cold. She had dodged Dale’s first attempt at this. She said nothing as they continued walking.

“So I made arrangements tomorrow afternoon around noon. You’ll make your first jump. You’ll love it. It’s so liberating. And like we discussed, you’ll be with me, and it’ll be as safe as can be.”

Kit chewed at her bottom lip. She really—and she emphasized really—didn’t want to do this. But she couldn’t back out again, and the idea of Roz’s smug “I told you so” look was unthinkable. She could never tell Roz she sold the Stairmaster on eBay and took the money and went on a shopping spree with her mother and Bess.

“If you’re sure,” she said, glancing at Dale’s grin.

“I’m sure. You’ll love it, and you’ll want to do it again. It’s one of the reasons I came out here. I figure what were the odds of you coming to the same town where Sandy lives? When Helen told me where you were going, I figured it was…”

“Kismet?” Kit offered dryly.

“No, nothing like that. More like fate.”

“That’s what…” Kit rubbed her temple. “Never mind.”

They headed back to the lodge, walking most of the way in silence. Visions of jumping out of a plane flashed through Kit’s mind. She had no clue how to get out of it gracefully.