New Lease on Love Read online

  "By the way, where's Katie?"

  Nick stirred his coffee. He'd passed up dessert but seemed to be getting a kick out of watching Chelsea eat hers. "With Grace. Grace has started to tutor her. It's working out remarkably well."

  Chelsea poked valleys into her dessert with her spoon. She'd thought Katie was a safe subject. "That's good."

  There was an uneasy pause. "What's the matter?"

  "Nothing."

  "Yes, there is. Your voice has this irritating little edge to it."

  "Thanks a lot." She tried to smile but failed.

  "You're welcome. And I mean it."

  Chelsea moved aside her half-eaten parfait. "Okay, maybe something is wrong. Maybe it bothers me that Katie's not going to a regular school."

  Nick leaned back and huffed a long sigh. "I thought so."

  "Sorry, it's none of my business, of course…"

  "No, don't apologize. I've been round that same mulberry bush myself a few dozen times, but I think I'm making the right decision. You have to understand, Katie's education so far has been terribly fractured. She's missed a lot of school because of her operations. She should be in second grade now, but this year she's repeating first."

  "Oh. I didn't realize that." Chelsea felt a heartache she couldn't have anticipated. "But it's certainly understandable after all she's been through."

  "You don't know the half of it, Chelse." Pain filled his eyes. "Tutors seem to work well. Katie had one back in Boston who helped a lot, and Grace is a certified teacher."

  "Yes, I know."

  "I've talked to the principal at the local school here. He has some standardized tests we can measure her progress by, and if she scores well, he says there should be no problem giving her grade credit."

  Chelsea had to admit it made sense. "So, next September she'll be going into the second grade at the local school?"

  "No. I'm going to have Grace tutor her for a few years. Home education's exactly what someone in Katie's situation needs, the individual attention, working at her own pace. She's a really bright kid. With individual attention she'll catch up to grade level in no time."

  Again he made sense. Chelsea didn't know why she was disgruntled—except perhaps that she begrudged Grace's spending so much time with Katie.

  Nick studied her over the rim of his coffee cup. "You look as if I were sentencing my daughter to a life in prison."

  Chelsea made an effort to smile. "I was just thinking about what she'll miss, that's all. Playmates and social growth, that sort of thing."

  "I'm afraid the only thing she's gained from going to school with other kids is a whopping inferiority complex."

  "Katie?"

  "That's right. She's always been a few steps behind everyone else, academically, emotionally and, of course, physically."

  "But she's almost better."

  "She's never going to be better, Chelsea," Nick replied with a bitterness she hadn't seen before. "Not a hundred percent."

  "So, what are you going to do, keep her isolated the rest of her life?"

  "She'll have lots of opportunity to meet other kids."

  "Nick, I know it's none of my business, but have you ever considered the possibility that you're being a bit too protective of Katie? Maybe she needed that treatment once, but she's ready to move on."

  "Dammit, Chelse! You think I don't want her to move on? You think I don't want the best for her? But let's face facts. She's…"

  "Handicapped?"

  Nick was breathing heavily now. "I love Katie," he said with a conviction so deep his voice shook, "and it tears me up when I think about all the things she'll miss out on, the normal things other girls will take for granted. Dancing, becoming a cheerleader—dumb little stuff like that."

  "As far as I can see, the only handicap she has right now is you."

  Nick reared back, stunned. Remorse gripped her immediately.

  "I'm sorry. I had no right to say that. It's just that I hate to see her being treated like an invalid. I can't help thinking she'd be better off if everybody forgot her past and let her get on with her life."

  Nick shook his head sadly. "I can't forget. Neither would you if you'd been forced to live through it. And I see nothing wrong with protecting her. I'm her father. That's what I'm here for."

  Chelsea opened her mouth to argue, but just one look into his face changed her mind. After years of dealing with parents and kids from the hospital, she knew pain, and Nick's ran deep. "Nick, let's not argue. This…" She encompassed the elegantly set table, the room—and him. "This has been too nice. I don't want to spoil it."

  "I didn't mean to."

  She smiled tentatively, but he didn't smile back.

  Out on the sidewalk Nick took her arm when she started for the car. "Wait. Let's take a walk. I don't feel like going back just yet. Do you?"

  Chelsea shook her head. Maybe a walk would dissipate the tension that had fallen over their good mood.

  They spent nearly an hour wandering through shops. Nick's favorite was a general store complete with potbellied stove and floorboards that squeaked.

  "What can we do next?" he asked as they headed back up the sidewalk. His spirits had recovered completely, it seemed. Chelsea had to laugh. "Humor me, Chelse. I've been stuck in a thirty-story bank the last ten years."

  "Okay. How about the Rockwell Museum?"

  Nick considered. "Nah, it's too nice a day. Some other time."

  They walked leisurely, their hands in their pockets. Every so often their arms bumped in companionable warmth.

  "I know," Chelsea announced when they reached the car. "Ever been to Bash Bish Falls?"

  "Bash what? I can't even say it."

  "Let's go then. I'll give you directions."

  They headed south, Nick attacking the steep hills and curves with an enthusiasm that gladdened Chelsea's heart. Though she'd lived here all her life, she, too, found the ride immensely enjoyable.

  "Bash Bish Reservation," she read off a sign. "Turn here." They parked in a designated area, then headed up a woodland path.

  "Did Larry tell you we ran into each other last night?"

  "No. I haven't talked to him today," she replied.

  "Hmm. At the drugstore." Nick gazed ahead at the rising path. A brook tumbled by on their right. The air was fresh and sweet with new life. "While we were talking he explained what was going on that day you strafed the ski area in your balloon."

  Chelsea felt a warm surge of vindication.

  "I'm sorry about the misconception I had of you. Larry told me all about the kid, about how you were only trying to teach him a lesson."

  "Yeah, well, people who disregard the rules of ballooning don't sit very high in my estimation. No matter what you think, I'm one of the most careful balloonists you'll ever meet, Nick. That's one virtue my grandfather insisted on drumming into me. He told me horror stories, made me read diaries…"

  "He sounded like a fascinating man, the little you got to say about him at the Lockwoods."

  "He came into my life at exactly the right time."

  "Hmm. Your father had just died?"

  "That's right. My grandfather helped a lot. He and I got to be real pals. We shared this love that nobody else really understood."

  "Ballooning."

  "Yes. I don't expect you to understand. You'd have to experience it personally."

  "Which isn't very likely."

  Chelsea groaned. "Ballooning really is safe, you know, and I'm good at it. Not that I give a hoot whether or not you ever take a ride, but it's an experience you wouldn't want to miss. Almost mystical. Stop laughing." She swatted his arm.

  "Speaking of mystical…" Nick stood transfixed, glimpsing the slender waterfall she'd brought him to see. It rushed from a stony gorge above and plunged a dramatic fifty feet into a clear, rock-bottomed pool.

  They found a spot off the path where they could sit, and for a long while watched the falls without speaking. Chelsea felt close to Nick, as if she knew him better than sh
e did. There was nothing about their brief acquaintance that warranted the feeling, but still she couldn't shake it.

  "There's a legend that goes with these falls." Her voice softened. "According to the story, there once was an Indian maiden who was so saddened by unrequited love that she leapt to her death from that ledge up there. Some people say her spirit haunts the falls, and if you listen real hard to the rushing of the water, you can still hear her crying."

  She smiled self-consciously. The story was common treacle. But as the seconds spun out, and even their breathing quietened, she realized they were both listening, hard. Aware of what they were doing, they laughed.

  Overhead, a warm breeze flicked the small new leaves of the trees. Birds were making a May racket. Chelsea felt the closeness return, and suddenly she had the strangest urge to share things with Nick.

  "Nick?" Her voice sounded small and unsure.

  "Mmm." He raised a knee and rested his chin on it.

  "About my ballooning… It's safe, but I have had a few close calls in my time."

  He turned his head, his gaze narrowing.

  "I've had scrapes… accidents. We have these things in the mountains called rotors, sort of like little whirlwinds, and I got caught in one once." She paused. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You already have a warped enough idea…"

  "No. Go on."

  She shrugged. "It was the most terrifying experience of my life. I remember thinking, 'This is it. This is the time and place I'm going to die'."

  Nick lifted his hand to her shoulder protectively. "But obviously you didn't. What happened?"

  "I don't know. Oh, I know what I did, but I don't know how or why—my mind was in such a panic. All I know is that suddenly I was firing up the burner, and the balloon began to rise. I was hanging on for dear life. The basket was spinning out… I heard a tear. But all at once I was out of it. I'd risen right out of it!" Her voice lifted with amazement.

  Beside her, Nick expelled his breath in a quick release. His hand moved from her shoulder across her back. "Maybe your grandfather was on the ride with you."

  "Maybe so." She followed the sunlight playing over his face, over the deep brown silk of his hair. He noticed her watching him and abruptly dropped his hand.

  Chelsea felt confused. She'd told herself the hand on her shoulder was merely a gesture of comfort, but no amount of rationalizing could minimize the electricity that had just sparked between them.

  She made an effort to clear her mind. "Nick?"

  "Yes?"

  "I guess I told you that story so you'd realize I've experienced the worst there is, and the sheer terror has made me cautious to the point where I'll never risk having those experiences again. I treasure my life and the lives of everyone I take up."

  Nick gazed ahead, frowning. His eyes looked lost, wistful, and Chelsea wondered what could possibly be on his mind.

  "We'd better be heading back." Nick tossed a swift evasive smile in her direction. "It's after four."

  She sighed, reluctant to end their afternoon, but she knew it was time. Nick had pulled into himself, and there would be no opening that door again today.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The next evening, Chelsea got a call from Larry. Earlier in the day he'd placed an order for a balloon of his own and was beside himself with excitement.

  "One more thing, sis. Someone just called me to charter a flight, and I wanted to know if tomorrow would be okay."

  Chelsea wondered why this person had called Larry and not her. Perhaps it was a friend of his from school. "Sure. The weather's supposed to be great. Are you free to crew, or should I ask one of my students?"

  "Actually, I was wondering if I might take the flight myself."

  "Oh. Oh, well, sure." When Larry had gotten his license, Chelsea had discussed sharing piloting duties with him occasionally and had worked out terms. "Do you want me to crew for you?"

  "That depends."

  "On what?"

  "On whether you want to, after I tell you who I'm taking up."

  "Who, for heaven's sake?"

  "Nick Tanner."

  The news hit Chelsea like a blow to the solar plexus. "Nick agreed to ride in a balloon?"

  "Not agreed. Asked."

  "I don't believe it!"

  "Surprised me, too."

  "Is Katie going?"

  "No. And he made me promise she'd never find out he went without her. I guess the kid's been bugging him about it."

  "Hmm. Why did he call you?" Chelsea asked.

  "I don't know."

  "Maybe he feels more confident flying with a man."

  "Or maybe he finds it easier to eat humble pie with me."

  Larry was probably right. Still, it hurt.

  "I get the feeling Nick would prefer you didn't even find out about this flight," Larry added.

  "I'm sure that's true, but I do know, and what's more, I'm going to help crew."

  Chelsea hung up the phone and slumped in her office chair, then began rocking in a steady, nervous rhythm. Ten minutes later she picked up the receiver and called her brother back.

  "Larry, I have a favor to ask. I've been promising the little Leandro girl a ride for weeks. I can't put it off much longer. Would you mind if she went along with Nick?"

  "No. Of course not."

  "Good. Now for the second half of my favor. Do you mind if I take your place? I'll pay you your usual fee for booking a flight and for piloting."

  "You're the boss," he finally conceded.

  Eight-year-old Heather Leandro and her mother arrived at the field before Nick. The air was mild on this late afternoon, but Heather was dressed warmly, with sturdy shoes and pants and a jacket with the hood tied up around her eager face. She was a veteran of ballooning, a familiar sailor of the skies.

  When Nick arrived, she was pulling at the folds of the balloon spread out across the field, while Chelsea aimed two large fans into the opening at the bottom. The nylon was starting to billow and fill.

  Nick got out of his car wearing a rueful smile. "Somehow I had a feeling you'd be here, Lawton. You couldn't let me sneak even one quick flight behind your back, could you?"

  Chelsea waved and smiled.

  "Say, Nick." Larry came forward and the two shook hands. The whir of the fans drowned out most of their conversation, but from the sharp glance Nick cast in Chelsea's direction, she surmised that Larry was telling him he wouldn't be piloting today.

  "It's going to be a beautiful evening for a ride," Chelsea called. "Perfect for your first time. The air's so calm, visibility endless…"

  He strode over. "This isn't what I arranged. I chartered a solo flight. I thought I'd be alone."

  "You didn't count on me, either, did you?"

  Heather skipped forward, her dark brown eyes fastened on Nick. She flashed him an irresistible smile. "Don't be afraid, mister. I've been up plenty of times. It's great!"

  Nick groaned—and then laughed, apparently accepting his plight. "Anything I can do to help?"

  "That's the spirit." Chelsea winked.

  When the balloon was almost ready, she called to Heather's mother, a young, attractive brunette leaning against her car. "Feel like coming along, Jan?"

  "Are you sure?" Jan knew how expensive a ride normally was.

  "Sure, I'm sure."

  "Hi, I'm Jan Leandro, Heather's mother," she said, climbing in.

  "Nick Tanner," he responded.

  "Okay, here we go." Chelsea unclipped the tether line and tossed it to Larry. She turned up the burner, and a long, hot blast leapt into the nylon bubble. Heather giggled with anticipation. The basket rocked, then up it went, lightly, gently, easy as a cloud.

  Nick's fingers were white, gripping the lines overhead. His eyes were wide and he seemed to have stopped breathing.

  "It's going to be fine," Chelsea whispered in his ear.

  The earth dropped away and soon they were drifting, ever so slowly, over the field ripe with wild daisies and yellow buttercups. With eve
ry passing second, the perspective changed, opened out. Far below, Larry was already in the Jeep, trailing the balloon.

  Heather kneeled on a small corner bench, arms on the rail cushioning her chin. She was having a grand time, singing some song she'd learned in school. Her mother, standing beside her, smiled as she caught Chelsea's eye.

  Soon they were gliding over the ski area, high enough for all the Berkshires to be spread out below them. Chelsea noticed Nick wasn't holding on so tightly anymore, and his face bad relaxed. Then he spoke so softly she almost didn't hear him. "This is wonderful."

  Chelsea was sure something inside her melted. "Think so?"

  He smiled and nodded, his glittering hazel eyes filled with the majesty of the view. "It feels weird—like we're standing still and the earth is what's moving by. I never expected this… this stillness. Or this silence."

  "Lots of first-time passengers say that," Chelsea assured him. "One even confessed to feeling he was traveling in another dimension." Chelsea knew what each of them meant, no matter how they phrased it. "I suppose that feeling comes from the fact that we're moving with the air, not faster, not slower. That's why it's so still, why there's no sound or sensation of movement."

  "Tell him to light a match, Chelsea," Heather's small, knowing voice piped up.

  "Good idea." Chelsea found the book she always carried in her sweatshirt pocket. "Go on, strike a match."

  Nick did, and the flame burned without a flicker. "Well, I'll be!" He stared at it till it nearly burned his fingers.

  "I wish I'd brought a camera," he said a little while later. "This view takes your breath away."

  "Don't you feel like a bird?" Heather exclaimed.

  "Like an eagle, at least." Nick smiled warmly at the child. "How old is she?" he asked Mrs. Leandro.

  "Eight."

  "Ah." He nodded. "I have a daughter, too. She's seven, going on thirty."

  Mrs. Leandro laughed. "I know what you mean."

  Chelsea was thrilled that Nick was enjoying himself. Until this moment, she hadn't known how very much she'd wanted him to.