Kentucky Rain (3 page)

Drying the rest of her torso, Kate tried to reject the attraction that had awakened—on her part at least. After all, why invite another rejection at a time when she was so vulnerable? Jerry had divorced her for no apparent reason. Midlife crisis was all that her girlfriends could come up with. Yet that old cliché didn’t satisfy her. Jerry had been her husband. He had pledged to honor and cherish her until death. She’d loved and trusted him. She’d devoted her youth to him. Created a home for him and bore his only child.

Why hadn’t she been good enough for him to keep?

Maybe, Jerry’s leaving her had been all her fault, regardless of what her friends had said. Maybe, she should have tried harder. Done more. Or maybe, there was something that invited abandonment. Maybe, that was why her mother had left her and her father when Kate was only six. Was that why Jerry had dumped her, too?

She felt the sting of tears welling in her eyes and angrily swiped them away. But she couldn’t escape the feeling she didn’t measure up. Wasn’t good enough. That was only the repressed emotions of her inner child. She knew it now, after months of group therapy. Yet, the core belief was hard to shake, especially when it was rooted so deep in her soul that it had become a part of her being.

Kate sighed and squirted vanilla lotion onto her thigh, slathering the white cream up and down one shaven leg then the other. She rubbed lotion on both arms and her flat belly with its C-section scar across the bikini line, just above her pubic hair.

Unwrapping the towel from her hair, Kate shook out the long, blonde strands. She wasn’t in the mood to primp and fuss over her appearance. What did it matter? There was work to be done to straighten up this apartment and make it a suitable home for Reagan. That was more important than polishing her toenails and touching up her fingernails.

Casting aside her thoughts of Scott and their impending dinner, Kate ran a comb through her hair and left it to dry on its own. She dressed in shorts and t-shirt then got to work unpacking boxes in the third bedroom where she planned to set up an office.

* * * *

Kate ended up polishing her toenails after all. And she redid her fingernails then spent an hour fussing over makeup and hair.

Good grief. You’d think I’d never been on a date.

After standing for five minutes inside her walk-in closet staring at her clothes, Kate finally picked out a sleeveless maxi dress with a gray-blue paisley print and a nice A-line silhouette. She’d seen how Scott had looked at her legs last night and this morning so she was being careful. The long dress would give her maximum coverage but still be cool and flowing.

“You look lovely,” Scott said when she answered the door.

That brought a blush to her cheeks. Kate dropped her gaze, her stomach churning. This was so weird.

“Thank you,” she said. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, I’ll take a rain check,” he answered, playing on their earlier conversation. “My chariot awaits us.” Scott stepped aside and swept his hand to indicate a red Acura TL parked on his side of the parking space.

“Oh! Is it new?” Kate’s attention was diverted from the awkwardness of the situation to the vehicle.

“Yes, it is.” There was a proud note in Scott’s voice. “I picked it up today. It’s been on order for a few weeks.”

Kate pulled her door shut, locking it, and stepped out onto the porch and then the gravel parking area. “It’s beautiful!” She walked up to the car with Scott. “I love the color.”

“Basque Red Pearl they call it in the brochure,” he told her, running a finger over the shiny finish of the fender. He opened the passenger door.

Kate turned and sat, settling into the ebony-leather bucket seat and, like a proper lady, swung her legs into the sedan. She arranged her skirts.

“It smells like a new car.” She inhaled with appreciation as he slid into his seat and started the engine.

“It should.”

Scott spent the short drive through town talking about the car’s 3.7-liter V-6 engine, 6-speed automatic transmission, rearview camera, and surround sound system.
Typical guy.
Jerry had been into all those things, too, but all Kate could comment on were the pretty colors and the quiet ride.

“I’m boring you,” Scott said, turning to glance her way.

“Oh, no, not at all!” she lied.

“You’re still not very good at hiding your feelings.” Scott turned back to the road, a slight smile on his lips.

How was she supposed to take that comment? Kate decided to ignore it. She searched for something to say and finally settled on the obvious.

“Where are we going to dinner? You said it’s someplace new.”

He glanced at her again. “Do you remember Mandy Sullivan and Judd Romeo?”

“Yes, didn’t Mandy marry a rodeo cowboy?"

“Professional bull rider,” Scott agreed with a nod. “They got married several years ago, and bought a four-hundred-acre tobacco farm where Judd also raises bucking bulls. But because of the decrease in burley tobacco quotas, Judd turned the bulk of the land that isn’t in pastures into a vineyard. He recently opened a restaurant.”

“He’s been busy.”

“And successful.”

Kate’s thoughts turned inward.
Successful. Not like me.
She didn’t have anything to show for her past ten years except for a beautiful eight-year-old daughter. She had no other successes, no other accomplishments, nothing that she could call her own.

Swallowing the self-pity, Kate stared out the window. The Kentucky countryside was beautiful in June. Not too hot. The bluegrass was green and the fences white-washed or painted black creosote. Against the rolling pastures, silhouettes of horses grazed in the distance.

The entrance to the Eagle Bend Winery paralleled the main highway to Lexington. A gravel road segmented vineyards on each side, leading to a log cabin that sat on the rise of a hill and was surrounded by trees. The cabin was a combination wine-tasting room and gift shop with the restaurant in the rear. The hostess showed them to a table near a window. She introduced herself as Marisa Bass, Mandy’s sister, and told them, when they asked, that neither Judd nor Mandy worked at the restaurant. She ran the restaurant for them.

“Judd earned a lot of money riding bulls,” Scott commented, opening his menu. “You’ve got to admire him. He hasn’t wasted it but built something here to be proud of.”

Kate surveyed her menu. “And what do you do, Scott? For a living?”

Small Talk 101: direct conversation to your partner. And away from anything personal, Kate thought.

“I own a security company.”

“Like locks and home security systems?” That would explain his handyman work last night.

“No, computer security. I consult on firewalls, antivirus software, IDS/IPS systems, and even get into helping my clients write policies and standards to meet government and state regulations.”

Kate felt her eyes glaze over. “Sounds interesting.”

Scott laughed and took a sip of ice water. He set the glass down before answering. “I think it is. And the economy hasn’t hurt my business. I have no store front or employees, so that helps keep down the overhead.”

“Where do you do this work?”

“All over the country. It keeps me busy and away from home much of the time. But I’m lucky to be able to work online from my upstairs office.”

“That’s why the Wi-Fi in the house is so strong,” Kate commented with understanding.

A teenage waitress arrived to take their orders, recommending the French onion soup as a starter. They took her up on the suggestion, and placed their orders, picking out suitable wines for their meal selections. Several minutes later, an older woman served Scott a Cabernet Sauvignon and Kate a Pinot Grigio, then the young waitress brought their soup.

Scott watched Kate dip her spoon into the Gruyère cheese that covered the heavy crockery bowl. The chewy cheese pulled out in a long string when she put the spoon to her lips. Kate was forced to nip it with her fingertips then dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Her face reddened. She was embarrassed. That intrigued Scott. She wasn’t nearly as sophisticated as he thought she’d be given her marriage and maturity.

He gave her a little time to recover then said, “I heard you have a child.”

She dipped her spoon again, this time through a hole in the cheese and brought out caramelized onions and broth. Swallowing the bite, she gazed at him before answering, “Yes, a daughter. Reagan is eight.”

“Interesting name for a girl.”

Kate tipped her head, conceding his observation. “She’s named for the president.”

“Your idea or your husband’s?”

“Both, actually.” She leveled her gaze. “Does that bother you, politically, I mean?”

“No, not at all, but I make it a habit not to talk politics or religion on the first date,” he said to see how she’d react.

She sat up straighter. “This isn’t a date.”

He lowered his gaze and dipped his spoon into his bowl. “No, of course not.”

“You’re making fun of me,” she challenged.

He lifted his gaze and arched an eyebrow. “Who me?”

Her face flamed again, and she took a sip of soup. They had once been so good with each other—easy and intimate, in more ways than one. He’d been head over heels in love then she’d shocked the hell out of him by marrying that Lawrence guy.

Now, she was divorced and on the market again, theoretically that is. How did he feel about that? This “date” was a spur of the moment impulse, which was unusual for him. Most of the time, he was more calculating about dating. Or too busy to be bothered.

Not for the first time, he equated his lack of love life with Kate. She’d hurt him badly. Maybe, he was right to test the waters again and find out if he could actually move on.

They ate their soup in silence. When they finished, the waitress cleared away the empty bowls and brought Scott a thick rib eye steak. Kate was served garden pasta.

He knew better than to ask about her divorce. He made small talk about the dinner instead, then questioned her about her life. What did she like to do? Did she work?

Her eyes grew cautious and pained. Instead of answering, she talked about her daughter and about volunteering at school and with the Brownie troop. Reagan took ballet lessons but preferred tap dancing. She’d tried gymnastics and softball but wasn’t good at either one. Reagan was an excellent student, though, and loved to read. She was a good kid, and Kate hoped not too spoiled for being an only child.

“Oh, I’m boring you,” she eventually observed.

Scott lowered his steak knife and fork. He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip, watching her over the rim. “No, I’m fascinated.”

“You are
not
!” she said with a pouting lower lip. “You’re laughing at me again. I’m talking about my child, and you could care less.”

“I’m fascinated by you, Kate.”

She blushed when he said her name.

“Why is that?”

“The Kate I knew would never have gotten carried away about another person. You must be a great mother.”

She surveyed him thoughtfully. “It’s who I am, and, yes, I try to be a good mother.”

“I wish Reagan was my child,” he said in a low voice, gazing at her with a pointed look. “I know damn well I’d never have divorced her mother.”

Chapter Four

Kate survived the “first date.” She should feel flattered that Scott had been “fascinated” by her, but flirting with an old boyfriend was the last thing on her agenda at the moment. Getting her life in order took priority, because if she could do that, Kate could better protect and raise Reagan. That was her urgency. Nothing else.

The first thing was to establish a church home. So the following morning, Sunday, she dragged herself out of bed in time for the eleven o’clock service at First United Methodist. Kate wasn’t religious, but she knew how important it was to provide her child with a moral and spiritual foundation. Parents couldn’t do it all alone. There were too many outside influences on kids today with the Internet and drugs and alcohol.

Besides, she remembered her choir and youth group at First Church with fondness. It was too bad Jerry never had a religious background. Maybe, things would have turned out differently if he had. But Jerry was no longer the sole director of Reagan’s life. They were equal partners in this joint custody agreement, which was much more than they’d ever been as a married couple.

Kate was determined to do things differently. And better. She was determined to do things right.

Church bells rang joyously at the end of the service as the congregation filed out of the sanctuary. Kate shook hands with the minister on the church steps, promising to try out a Sunday school next week.

“Kate Cox! Is that you?”

Kate heard her old name and spun around. Hurrying down the steps behind her was none other than Scott Gray’s sister, Sarah.

This is all I need.
Putting on a smile, Kate greeted her childhood friend.

“I heard you were in town!”

“I forgot how fast news travels in a small town,” Kate said. “How are you, Sarah?”

“I’m great! Couldn’t be better since I divorced that bastard I was married to.”

Kate lifted an eyebrow. “I hadn’t heard.”

“But I heard about you.” Sarah gave Kate a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

Not really, Kate thought but nodded more out of habit than anything. She was used to pleasing people, and besides, she needed a friend in her new life, even an old friend.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

“How about the Coffee Canteen? We can walk. It’s just around the corner.”

The Coffee Canteen was a wannabe Starbucks with a hometown flavor. A few folks with laptops in front of them sat at heavy wooden tables or on deep leather sofas using the free Wi-Fi. The room was dark and cool with the aroma of brewing coffee and vanilla in the air.

Sarah ordered a cappuccino, and Kate asked for plain coffee with room for cream. At a corner table, both women sipped their hot drinks. Sarah looked different. More mature. Tanned. A harder edge around her eyes. Her once short brown hair was long enough now to pull back from her face. She’d put on weight, but not much. Her stomach had remained flat and her legs long and shapely.