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Kelly chose a dark, flowing skirt and a blue button-down crepe silk shirt for dinner. He’d said it was casual, but it was still a date, and she was still her mother’s daughter. She added a gold link necklace she’d purchased for herself during one holiday trip and a pair of matching earrings. Low black heels completed the outfit.
Her auburn hair was brushed and tied back neatly in a ribbon the same color as her blouse. Her makeup was light, just enough to brighten the tan she was beginning to get from spending time in the summer sun. She was never going to be a teenager again, but that was okay. She’d decided a long time ago she wasn’t going to begrudge lost youth, but be happy with the age she was.
Grabbing one of her grandmother’s shawls—had Ruth Anderson knit it?—she waited on the porch for Ryan. It was a peaceful place at the end of day, the chorus of birds becoming more pronounced, while the breeze from the lake kept everything fresh.
She’d bitten the bullet and called the plumber Ryan had recommended, as well as someone named Larry, who was a full-time handyman.
“He understands things about construction that it would take me a lifetime to learn. It’s like he has an intuitive understanding of wood. It almost speaks to him.”
She’d decided she wanted Ryan’s input on her proposal for retreat participants. Because he’d spent so much time away, he looked at the community from a different perspective than either of her friends, and because he was a man, he might see things she couldn’t.
The sound of the motor caused her to stand. She grabbed her purse and shawl and headed to the parking area on the side of the house. Ryan had gotten out of the car by the time she arrived. He’d also made an effort with his appearance. His khakis looked neatly pressed above his dark brown loafers, and the forest-green patterned shirt gave him the same whimsical look that had been reflected in the quilt she’d seen in the gallery.
“Wow,” he said. “You look amazing.” He kissed her quickly, then helped her into the passenger seat.
She didn’t mind; it was nice to be treated to old-fashioned manners as long as the old-fashioned attitudes didn’t come along with it.
“It’s going to be a beautiful evening for a drive,” he said as he started south.
The lake sparkled between the trees to her right, and the sun dappled everything around them.
“Yes,” she said.
He tentatively took her hand, and she didn’t pull away. She wouldn’t think about what might or might not be in the future. She’d simply enjoy the moment.
They drove in amicable silence for a while.
“So, tell me about your retreat plans,” he said.
“Maggie suggested I do a proof of concept. She said it might help a few of the women artists in town.”
“So why are you doing it?” he asked.
“To make Maggie happy,” she said. Even as she said it, she knew it was a lame reason.
“I see. Who are you thinking of having stay?”
“Alex, of course. She can be a sounding board for how the retreat went from a participant’s point of view.”
“Makes sense.”
“Then I thought about Ruth Anderson, Pamela, and Susan Thomas, although Susan’s an odd choice. I’m not sure how much she’d mesh with the others.”
“Because she’s gay?”
“No. Of course not.” At least she hoped not.
“Susan’s had a bit of a rough time. She was in the army for a while—combat in the Middle East. Plus, many women feel like you—a little uncomfortable around her. There’s no shame in admitting that.” He squeezed Kelly’s hand gently. “Invite her. She might teach you more than you do her.”
“Okay,” Kelly said. “She’s on the list. That would be four. That’s all the place can hold. I wonder why my grandmother never put up more cabins.”
“Henrietta thought the symmetry of the buildings was perfect the way it is.”
“And the other problem I have is that these women are all artists. Promise Cove has lots of them. But my grandmother always had a mix.”
“I have a suggestion. Leave Pamela out. She needs to get some business help more than emotional help. I’ll try to get Makalia to talk to her. There’s another woman. Just a second.” Ryan pulled his hand away to put both hands on the wheel to navigate through the center of Whitefish and continue south. Once they were headed toward Kalispell, he reached for her hand once again.
She was grateful to have him touching her again. It was good to be with someone who really listened. Was that she had been missing in her marriage with John? They’d functioned as a team, each knowing the role they were supposed to play. But if she strayed out of her assigned role, like the time she thought about joining the local orchestra to keep her skills alive, he’d quickly clipped her wings.
Had she done the same to him?
“You okay?” Ryan asked.
She shook the past away. “Yes. Just thinking. If I eliminate Pamela, who do you suggest to replace her?”
“There’s a relatively new woman in town—new as in she’s been here only a year. Her name is Julia Leonard. She’s about your age, maybe a little younger. I don’t know her story; she’s close-mouthed. But there’s something about her eyes.” Ryan glanced at Kelly. “It’s the same look I saw while I was a cop. The look of a woman who’s been mentally and physically abused.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” Kelly said.
“Me too.” Ryan shrugged. “All I can tell you is my gut feel, a notion that served me well on the streets. Anyway, she’s a singer-songwriter, so at least you’d have some variation. And since you’re a musician as well, you may be able to reach her when others can’t.”
“I don’t possess any magic powers,” Kelly said. “My grandmother may have had them, but I’m just an ordinary woman.”
“Oh, you’re far from ordinary to me,” Ryan said.
Contentment made her smile.
They began to enter the area that had been built up primarily by big box stores. Ryan pulled into one of the smaller areas with a grouping of storefronts. A number of cars were huddled in one corner.
“Good,” he said. “They’re getting more customers.”
Glass windows allowed her to see tables lit with candlelight. Couples sat at about half of them. Over the windows, a brightly lit sign declared Two Continents Restaurant.
“What an odd name,” she said.
“It’s a unique situation,” he said, getting out of the car.
She opened her door, and he was standing there to help her out with a big smile on his face. “May I say again how lovely you look? You are as I’d imagined you’d be when I was a teen. I was so hoping you’d come back that summer.”
“My mother kept me away.”
“That’s what Henrietta said. I had finally worked up the courage to ask you out on a real date, and I never saw you again.” There was a sad note in his voice.
“But I’m here now,”
“Yes, you are.” He kissed her, lingering a little longer than he had when he’d picked her up.
Holding hands, they walked into the restaurant. A young woman in a sari greeted them and led them to their table. Shortly after they ordered, she came back to talk with them. “Do you know the story of our restaurant?” she asked in a musical voice.
Kelly shook her head.
“We are both refugees from different countries. We’re here for different reasons. I am here because in India, some men make it hard for women to exist. My husband is here because in the Congo, it seems impossible for good men to find peace. We met here, in America, and fell in love.”
“How wonderful,” Kelly said.
The woman smiled. “My husband is an amazing cook. I like to create a place where people can enjoy their food. It works well for us. We hope you enjoy it too.”
“We will,” Kelly said.
The woman gave a slight bow and walked away.
“I’d heard a bit about them,” he replied. “It was one of the reasons I wanted to come. The food should be interesting.”
They chose several small dishes and tasted each other’s orders. Kelly lost herself in pure enjoyment. The laughed as they tried to describe the flavors they were tasting. One dish was particularly hot, and Kelly fanned her mouth as Ryan quickly refilled her water glass.
They were almost finished when a slim Black man in a chef’s outfit came to their table. “You like my cooking?” he said. “It’s making you happy?”
“Yes,” Ryan said. “Very happy. Thank you.”
“That’s good,” the man said. “You should come back. Tell your friends. Okay?”
“Okay,” Ryan said and put his hand out.
The other man shook it with a grin that took up the lower half of his face.
“Thank you. Enjoy,” the chef said.
Once they finished their meal, they headed home, discussing the meal and the plight of refugees across the globe and how the couple from such warm climates would fare in the winter.
“I’m not sure how I’d do,” Kelly said.
“You’ve become a California hothouse flower,” Ryan said. “It would take you a while, but you’d get used to it.”
“I’m not sure I want to.”
“Oh,” he said. Then the conversation lulled.
They had just gotten back to her grandmother’s house when Ryan’s phone dinged.
“Another fire,” he said. “This one’s closer to home. It’s on the southeast side of Big Mountain. They’re going to have big problems if it gets out of control. Too many houses up there.” His voice was strained.
“How can you live this close to such danger?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I thought you were beginning to understand. Montana is my home. That means accepting what nature has to throw at you here—fire, wind, and winter.”
He got out of the Explorer and walked to her side, opening the door for her. Leaning on the top, he looked down on her. “I was hoping you’d stay. Maybe I’m trying to recapture a dream that has no possibility of existing.”
“I like you,” she said. “I’m not sure I can always like Montana.”
“But that’s the problem. I left once, but I decided I’d never make my home anywhere else once I came back.”
“I haven’t decided totally,” she said. “There’s still the retreat to create.”
“But you’ve got your suitcase packed,” he said without emotion.
“Give me a break, Ryan,” she said, her temper unexpectedly rising. “I’ve been here only a few weeks. You can’t expect me to flip to a country girl overnight.”
His smile slowly came back. “You’re right. I’m being too tough on you.”
“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was lovely—and unexpected.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek before waving and getting into his vehicle to leave.
Everything between them had shifted, and it wasn’t for the good. Regret and sadness filled her heart.
