Her Hometown Hero

Nate mounted the steps to his porch and took a closer look at the boy. Steven was always great with Barney and usually loved seeing him, but tonight Nate glimpsed the tension beneath the boy’s demeanor. “Barney, come here.” As Nate opened his front door, the Great Dane went inside. “Something’s wrong, Steven. What is it?” He leaned against his railing.

Steven stuffed his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “I wanted to tell Dad that I didn’t want to play football next year. I can’t. He’ll be so disappointed in me, but I can’t take another season. The coach is always on my case. I’m not tough enough. My father wants me to learn how to hit my opponent by taking boxing lessons this summer.” He began pacing. “I don’t want to hit people.”

For different reasons Steven and he had played a game in high school they didn’t want to—Steven because he couldn’t tell his father how he felt about the sport and Nate because he’d learned football, a game he enjoyed, as a means to go to college. “Do you want me to talk to your dad?”

Steven whirled around, opening and closing his hands at his sides. “No. Don’t. He already thinks I’m a wuss. I don’t want to make it worse by having someone else handle the hard stuff for me. I shouldn’t have come tonight.” The teen stormed from the porch.

Nate slapped his palm against the post nearby. He knew better than to make that offer to Steven. First he’d messed up with Kit today and now Steven. At the rate things were going, tomorrow probably wouldn’t be any better, because he intended to confront Kit about what was going on.

* * *

Kathleen sat at the table, sipping her second cup of coffee and finishing her bagel topped with cream cheese. When she had decided to come to the ranch, she hadn’t thought beyond that. But on this first morning, she was faced with what she should do with her time. The insurance company had given her a large settlement to the point where if she invested it properly, she wouldn’t have to work ever again. But she would give anything to have her leg back along with her ability to dance.

She glanced at the stack of books she’d put on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She’d never had much time to read and had bought these eight novels, but after that, what?

With her chin resting in her palm, she stared at the clock on the wall over the stove. The second hand going around and around reminded her time kept moving forward, no matter how much she wanted it to go backward. She was almost twenty-seven and had no idea what to do with the rest of her life. She’d always been so busy with work consuming her. Now there was nothing.

She could see if Beth needed any help. Maybe she could ride another horse until Cinnamon was better. Or she could—

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Nine o’clock. Beth had waited longer than Kathleen thought she would when she woke up.

With a sigh, she made her way to the entrance and swung the door wide, ready to launch into all the reasons she wasn’t ready to tell everyone about her amputated leg. The plain truth—she just wasn’t ready to deal with the fallout of that announcement.

She opened her mouth to speak, but when she saw Nate standing on her porch, she quickly swallowed her words.

She looked Nate up and down, taking in his jeans, short-sleeve, light green shirt, cowboy boots and hat. He’d always looked good dressed as he was. “What are you doing here?”

His face reflecting a brewing storm, he moved across the threshold without waiting for an invitation from her to come inside.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Three (#ulink_e17fd784-43e4-5d92-b224-1ff740265b3c)

Did Nate know about her leg? That question flittered through Kathleen’s mind as she closed the door behind him, then slowly turned to face him. She squared her shoulders, preparing herself for whatever had put that scowl on his face. It couldn’t be good.

“Why didn’t you tell me how bad your accident was? You acted like your injury was no big deal. You were hit by a car and then later replaced in your ballet company. That sounds more serious than you implied yesterday.”

One sentence after another pelted her as though she were being bombarded with buckshot. For a few seconds a flashback taunted the edges of her mind, but she shut the memories down and focused on Nate standing in front of her. “I prefer not to discuss what happened. I don’t owe you an explanation of why I’m here.”

Nate blew out a long breath, his scowl dissolving into a neutral expression. “Okay, you’re right, but we cared about each other a lot once. I still care. Your dance career is the reason we aren’t together today. Will you be able to go back? Is there any way I can help you with your recovery, like I did the time you twisted your ankle?” His look and tone softened.

She balled her hands so tight, her nails dug into her palms. Her wish to be a ballerina wasn’t the only reason they’d broken up. Nate had had his own dreams, too. They weren’t committed enough to see if they could work their problems out as a team because, although they dated, she had led a very separate life from his. He’d loved sports and had played every one he could fit into his schedule, especially football, which gave him a free ride to college. “There’s nothing you can do. I don’t need a cheerleader encouraging me to exercise.” That was the last thing she needed. It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out what her problem was.

“I’m sure you’ve become quite disciplined over the years to achieve what you have, but it doesn’t hurt to let a friend in.”

She ignored the last part of his sentence and said, “Yes, I’m very disciplined. I had to be to get where I was.”

“Was? Aren’t you going back?”

“Dance will always come first in my life.” Which was true, but now only as an observer. Averting her head, she moved toward the couch, needing to get off her feet. Her leg ached, although usually each day was slightly better than the one before. “Would you like some tea?”

“You still don’t drink coffee?” Nate fit his long length into the chair across from the couch.

She shook her head and made a face. “It tastes nasty, and I still don’t understand why you drink it.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“One I’ll never have.” The bantering melted some of the tension gripping Kathleen.

“I’ll pass on the tea.”

She relaxed against the cushion, hoping they were off the subject of her accident. “Are you out here because an animal is sick? Cinnamon?”

“No. I’m heading to the ranch next to yours, but if you want, I can stop by the barn and see how Cinnamon is doing.”

“I’m sure my brother or Bud would call you if there’s a problem.”

Silence reigned for half a minute while Nate glanced around the cabin. Kathleen frantically searched her mind for something to talk about other than her injury. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the extent of the damage. She didn’t know if she ever would be able to. She was still trying to figure out how to deal with her accident, and it occurred four months ago.

“Why did you decide to settle here?” Nate had come to Cimarron City at the age of fourteen, but before that he’d lived in Alabama—and his parents had returned there several years prior. “I’d thought since you chose to go to Auburn you’d live in that area.”

“Dr. Harris gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Besides, I’ve always loved it here.” He shifted his warm, gray eyes back to her. “I made a lot of friends, and since returning, I’ve had the opportunity to renew my friendships with many of them.”

Whereas she’d largely cut her ties with her friends in Cimarron City. When she had visited at the holidays, she’d only had time for family. She’d thought she had all she needed in New York, but she wondered if she’d really been alone in a crowd of many. She certainly felt that way now. Her friends in New York had the life she wanted and would never have again. It was hard to stand on the outside looking in.

“I’m involved with the youth at church,” Nate said when the silence returned. “There are some future ranchers in the group, and we’ve done some fun activities. Howard has allowed me to use his place for several field trips. We’re thinking about having a fund-raiser the third weekend in June at the Soaring S. I could always use your help in the planning. They’re raising money for a mission trip to Honduras in August.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be here at that time.” She didn’t know what she was going to do from one day to the next, let alone over a month away. Before she’d always had a very structured life with everything revolving around ballet. Now she felt as though she were floating aimlessly in outer space with nothing to hold her in place. Even the Lord had abandoned her. All her prayers had fallen on deaf ears.

“That’s all right. I can use any help you can give me. I’m desperate. This is the first mission trip I’ve organized, and I’m feeling a little in over my head.” He cocked a grin. “Okay, a lot.”

“What made you volunteer for the job?”

“One word—Howard. He heads the youth services at the church, and he recruited me. He thought I would be perfect for the high schoolers.”

Her laughter sounded foreign to her ears. “Don’t tell my brother, but I agree with him. You will be. How long have you been helping?”

“A couple of months. I casually mentioned to Howard one day that I was thinking of becoming involved more with the church now that I’m settled. I’m warning you—be careful what you say to Howard or there is no telling what you’ll be roped into.” Merriment danced in his eyes, making them sparkle like polished silver.

“I’ve been properly warned.” The last of her tension slipped from her shoulders. This type of conversation, she could handle.

Nate placed his hands on his thighs and pushed up. “I need to leave. I’ll feel better checking on Cinnamon since I’m already here. Walk with me?”

She’d planned to see her mare this morning. Although her leg ached, she wasn’t in a lot of pain. The 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.