Aurendel - Strays

By Sunday evening, Kate's temper had already cooled off, and by Monday afternoon she was ready to forgive the two men for their presumption and immaturity, provided they were sufficiently chastened. So after she finished with her house call--well, barn call, really--at Ed Hurley's to check on the new foal and its dam, she drove on over to Jack's place to extract the necessary apologies from him and his houseguest. When she arrived, to her surprise, Jack's truck was gone. She was about to head on home when Harold opened the front door and waved at her. Sighing, she shifted into park, shut down the engine, and got out.

"Good afternoon, Harold," she said in a stiffly formal tone. "Where's Jack today?"

"Please come in, Kate," Harold said. Kate noticed that he had abandoned his crutches in favor of a brass-headed walking stick from the umbrella stand in the corner by Jack's front door. "Jack's gone out of town on an errand," he continued. "He'll be back tomorrow evening."

"Oh." Uncertain what to do, Kate hesitated. "What kind of errand?"

"I'll tell you all about it if he succeeds."

Kate didn't like being put off like that. "Why didn't you go with him?" she asked suspiciously.

"I was rather, um, unwell this morning."

"What do you mean, unwell?" Did he and Jack spend last night drinking?

"Oh, nothing much, really, just a touch of a temperature, but Jack wouldn't hear of me doing anything but staying here resting."

"A temperature?" Kate went inside, pulling Harold in after her as her medic training took over. "Those cuts on your ankle aren't getting infected, are they?"

"No--" he began, but Kate wouldn't be put off. She had him sit down and roll up his pants leg for her to inspect his ankle. She inspected it, then looked up in disbelief.

"I think the stitches can come out now," he said.

"I've never seen anyone heal so quickly."

He shrugged. "Runs in the family," he said, with a wry smile.

Kate bit her lip, then fetched her kit from her car and got to the business of removing stitches. By the time she was done, she'd decided she might as well stay a while and keep Harold company. That conclusion reached, she started rummaging around Jack's kitchen looking for something decent for supper.

There wasn't much left on hand, but she was not taking Harold back to her place. It was bad enough she was stuck with a tete-a-tete. The one really big drawback to living in the middle of nowhere was no pizza delivery. As carnivorous as Harold was, spaghetti with meatless tomato sauce just wouldn't cut it. At length she found a lump of venison in the freezer, and stood there wondering what to do with it. Harold came over and asked her what she was doing.

"I've been trying to find something to cook, and this is all I've come up with," she said. "Looks like Jack ought to have gone to the grocery instead of wherever he's off to," she added, frowning.

"If you don't mind eating rather late, I can make some stew," Harold offered.

She gave him a quizzical look.

"I'm a much better cook than Jack," he said.

"That's really not saying much," she commented, and they both laughed. Somehow, after that things just seemed to go smoothly, and they cooked together companionably, chatting and chopping alternately, until the stew was simmering nicely. Then they sat down in the living room on the sofa, and after a moment Harold turned to Kate with a crooked smile, and said, "Kate, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I hope you're not still upset."

She sighed, pushing back a stray lock of hair from her face, and said, "I'm not really angry now. It was just so stupid." She gave him a sharp glance. "I'm not a bone to be quarreled and snarled over by a pair of dogs."

"No, of course no!" he exclaimed hastily.

Curiosity got the better of her. "Do you mind telling me what set all that off?"

Harold hesitated. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "It doesn't seem right to me that Jack should take you so for granted, just having you around when he wants, but not being your mate and taking care of you. I told him so rather strongly, and he took offense."

Kate thought about that for a minute. "I can take care of myself. And Jack's not the marrying kind of man. I knew that when I met him. Besides, I really don't think I could stand living with him full time. He can be pretty ornery when things aren't exactly how he likes them."

"I've noticed," Harold said, ruefully. "But it's not right that you should live alone."

Annoyed, Kate asked, "Because I'm a woman?"

Taken aback, he replied, "No, because you're not a curmudgeon like Jack."

That made her laugh, so he pressed the point. "Don't you have any family?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore."

Gently, he asked, "What happened?"

"My parents were killed in a car accident," she said hollowly.

"I'm so sorry," he said, and laid a hand on her arm. "Do you have no one else?"

She shook her head. "I'm an only child."

"I can't imagine being so alone," Harold said.

Kate bit her lip. She really didn't want to talk about it.

"Of course, you could have a family of your own," he said.

She shook her head. "Jack's not a family man." She hadn't meant to sound so bitter. She got up abruptly and headed to the kitchen. "Your stew smells done, and I'm hungry."

Over dinner Harold tried to cheer her up by telling her amusing stories about animals in the forest he grew up in and the mischief he and his twin brother got into. But even as she attempted to shake the mood, Kate grew increasingly unsettled. She tried not to react when he talked about his niece and nephew--twins apparantly ran in his family--although hearing about babies made her bite her lip. After dinner, when they'd returned to the sofa, he turned to her and said, "Something's been bothering you all through dinner. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she said.

"If it were nothing, you wouldn't be so upset. What happened?" His voice was quiet and coaxing, as if she were some small creature in hiding, shivering and pulling away from an extended hand offering food.

She just shook her head and wouldn't look at him. He leaned closer to her. She glanced up, and could've sworn he was sniffing her--unsettling! When he brushed a hand lightly across her stomach she nearly jumped out of her skin, and stared wide-eyed as he asked, "Did you ever tell Jack?"

Her jaw dropped open. There was no way . . . A chill crept up her spine. "Tell him what?"

He just looked at her. She shivered. He said, "Jack has his faults, but he's basically a decent man. If you'd told him, he'd have done the honorable thing."

She choked on bitter laughter. "I didn't want him to ‘do the honorable thing.' Oh, he'd have done it, no doubt. And I'd never have heard the end of it, how I'd trapped him." Hot tears ran down her cheeks unheeded.

"How long ago was this?" Harold asked.

"It's been nearly two years now," she paused to fish some kleenex out of her purse, which sat on the floor by the couch. "I was finishing veterinary school at Gainesville, had a job waiting for me at the clinic in town here, my parents . . ."

"This was right around when they died?"

She nodded and blew her nose. "He put down my being upset and sick to that." She swallowed hard, then said, "It seemed like the best thing to do at the time." She closed her eyes. "I never thought . . ." Her throat closed up with sobs. "I never thought it would be so hard . . ." She couldn't talk.

Then Harold was holding her in his arms, her head on his shoulder, as she wept and sobbed. As the violent spasms of grief subsided, she gradually became conscious of the warm, solid strength of his body, and the comforting scent of his skin--somehow like saddle leather, remembered from the ranch her parents had when she was a child. It felt so good that she lingered even after her tears stopped. But as she grew calm, she remembered something else, and sat bolt upright, pulling free of him.

"How did you know? How could you know?" she demanded. "I never told anyone."

"You became upset when I said you could have a family, when you said Jack wasn't a family man. And every time I mentioned my brother's children you looked pained. It wasn't hard to figure out."

His explanation might seem rational, but she wasn't satisfied. She rose to her feet. "How is it you can see right into me? I don't know you. I don't know where you're from, what you're doing here." He started to get up and she backed away. "I don't even know your real name, do I?" she challenged him. She was shaking again.

"Kate--"

But she ran out the front door and got in her car. Harold stepped out on the porch calling to her to wait, but she ignored him and drove off, dashing a few tears from her eyes. She hoped Jack would be rid of his disturbing houseguest soon. She couldn't take much more of this. The golden oldies station on her car radio was playing Ella Fitzgerald:

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could
Always be good
To one who'd watch over me

She switched it off. She didn't need someone to watch over her. She pulled up to her house, still sobbing as she went inside.