Volume 2 (Issue 1) ~ Twelve Days
The Twelve Days
by Yasmin John-Thorpe
Prologue:
He had blown it!
Everything had blown away like the constant swirling, misty rain. His plans, the
careful calculations, the timing, even this unnecessary trip, they had all been for
nothing.
He had patiently watched from the side-lines, as the other lanes at the ferry terminal filled with cars, trucks and buses on their way to Victoria, British Columbia. Now as he made his way to his truck, the first vehicle parked in the assured-sailing lane, his tall slender frame curved inward against the weather and his disappointment.
When the employee finally waved him forward, he drove up the ramp. He parked and turned off the ignition. He sat hunched over the steering-wheel long after everyone from the other vehicles had moved up to the main decks. The cold finally seeped into his rain dampened clothing. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out to go in search of a hot cup of coffee.
Before he reached the cafeteria the ferry shuddered beneath his feet, slowly
moving away from the docks. The ship’s horn sounded as he momentarily forgot the coffee and instead stepped out on the rain slicked deck.
He silently cursed the circling sea-gulls, the foul December weather and whatever was the unknown reason behind his unfulfilled plans. But as he turned to re-enter the passenger area, his steps faltered and his heart stilled...
* * *
On The First Day ...
"If you hurry, you'll make this ferry," the ticket seller said, as he took her American money. "If you decide to wait, it'll be close to two hours."
"This one please," Kaitlyn Novak nodded, grasping the change and receipt. "Which lane is the quickest?"
"Number seven will get you straight to the on-ramp," the uniformed man offered, pointing in the direction he wanted her to head.
Kaitlyn needed no further encouragement. With glove-covered fingers she firmly grasped the steering-wheel of her sporty red BMW Z3, and sped off. There was no way she wanted to wait another two hours. It had already proven to be one long, tiring trip from Los Angles.
"At last!" she sighed, stopping in the last spot on the ferry's upper car-deck. Kaitlyn parked and turned off the engine. She sat quietly in the silent car for several long moments.
A surge of joy filled her entire body. Too many years had slipped by with one
reason, or another, always arising, which prevented her from returning home for visits. After a four-year absence, the impending marriage of her best friend had finally brought her back.
"Annette Abbott, you sneaky little witch," Kaitlyn whispered. She smiled as she recalled her best-friend's tom-boyish ways. "Just imagine you getting hitched."
She checked her appearance in the rear-view mirror. The smile slowly left Kaitlyn lips as thoughts of her own disastrous romantic life flashed across her mind.
"Bastard." The nasty word jumped out of her clenched jaw before she could stop
it. Bloody, bloody hell! Annoyed for thinking about a man and situation, which threatened to destroy the one bright spot of sunshine in recent times, Kaitlyn climbed out of her car, slamming the door.
It had been years since she'd been on the ferry. The noisy, chattering passengers appeared full of the holiday spirit. Different Christmas conversations reached Kaitlyn's ears as she moved by.
Desiring a little privacy, Kaitlyn wandered towards the outside decks. She reached for the cream scarf hanging from her neck, to draw it up around her head. It was more to keep her warm from the chilly drizzle, than to protect her hair.
Kaitlyn breathed deeply. The damp air filled her L.A. smog-choked, arid lungs. Her face welcomed the tiny sprays of rain. She buttoned her long, brown leather coat and leaned against the bulkhead away from the prying eyes of passengers seated inside. A favourite melody played inside her head. Her leather covered fingers, thrust deep in her coat pockets, mimicked the movements upon an imaginary flute. The toes of her knee-high boots tapped in time with the tune.
Kaitlyn absorbed the atmosphere. She kept up the silent solo performance, as the ferry left the pier. For the moment she was the only one braving the inclement weather. But someone else soon ventured into the isolation.
She watched a lean, tall man in a soaked trench coat as he came out on deck. He moved to the rail and braced his body against it. His head hung low. Water dripped from his rain-plastered dark hair, onto his hunched shoulders and down to his shoes.
He turned and his eyes scanned the deck. Kaitlyn watched as his steps faltered
when his eyes locked with hers. He was too far away for her to tell the colour of those
eyes, but their intensity penetrated deep within her. Her body responded with a flare of heat.
If it were possible, he grew taller as he straightened. He kept her gaze for several moments then, he threw his head back. His baritone laughter reached her ears. The sound sent ripples of excitement tingling down her spine.
Kaitlyn watched until he moved back to the entrance. He didn't break eye contact until he passed through the doors to the inside. She exhaled the strangled breath caught in her lungs and willed her heart to slow down.
She trembled. For several moments while their gazes held, her body had played a new, hauntingly mysterious melody. The vibrant tones still echoed through her. What had just passed between her and the rain drenched stranger was impossible to comprehend.
* * *
On The Second Day ...
"Oh sweetheart, it's so wonderful to finally have you home," Mary Novak's warm voice woke Kaitlyn, the following morning.
"But it's not home to me as yet, Mom," Kaitlyn said, as she stretched under the covers. "It'll take me awhile to call the town-house home, even if everything belonging to me is in this room."
"Well, you know what I mean," her mother replied, settling on the bed.
Yes, Kaitlyn knew. Their home had been in a small town up-island. When her
job took her to L.A., her parents had decided to move to Victoria after her father retired. Her parents were bent on traveling and enjoying life.
"How was your trip? You were too tired to say much last night," her mother asked, tucking the blanket snugly around Kaitlyn.
"Long," Kaitlyn groaned, pushing her body back against the bed's headboard. She reached over to squeeze her mother's hand. "I'm just happy I made that ferry when I did..." her words trailed away as a rain-soaked male face flashed into her mind and a melodic memory played inside her head.
"What?" her mother asked.
"Oh nothing," Kaitlyn hedged. "So where's Dad?" she hastened to change the subject.
"You know him," her mother laughed, "His little girl is home, so he's busy preparing your favourite breakfast."
"Why didn't you say so earlier," Kaitlyn squealed. She dropped her mom's hand, jumping off the bed. "French toast, maple syrup - the real thing, with crisp bacon and hot coffee. Let's go," she added over her shoulder, already slipping on her dressing gown she'd grabbed off the hook behind the door.
* * *
The rest of the morning passed quickly. Kaitlyn left in the early evening to visit the bride-to-be.
"Here's one of my favourite, most beautiful girls," Martin Abbott said, as he
answered his front door. "Come here, sweetie." He opened his arms wide. Before
Kaitlyn could place her flute case down on the floor, she found herself wrapped in the
older man's warm embrace. "How are Daniel and Mary?"
"My parents are well, Mr. Abbott," Kaitlyn answered. She'd always had a very soft spot for Annette's father.
"Still trying to charm the young ones I see," Sheila Abbott teased as she came into the hall. Kaitlyn moved to hug her friend's mother.
"I've missed you both," Kaitlyn choked. She felt tears sting her eyes. These two wonderful people had taken her into their hearts, from the first time Annette had brought her to their home. She had spent many happy times here.
"Is that 'the Novak'?" a voice yelled from the second floor.
"None other," Mrs. Abbott answered.
The two elder people covered their ears as a 'Tarzan' yell and racing footsteps came down the stairs.
Kaitlyn braced herself as her friend flew towards her. Girlish giggles filled the small entrance. Conversations ceased while hugs and laughter were exchanged.
A short time later the two friends, seated on the floor of Annette's room, caught up on old times. School photos and year-books littered the area.
"Oh, in all the confusion I forgot to give you this," Kaitlyn leaned sideways and dug her hand into the pocket of her tight jeans. She extracted a folded piece of paper. "That's a list of the pieces I'll play before, during, and after the service," she explained, handing the paper to Annette. "Let me know if you would prefer something else."
"I trust your judgment," Annette answered. She scanned the unfolded sheet of
paper. "After all, you are the soloist with the L.A. Symphonic Orchestra. These all sound wonderful," she indicated the list. "Can you imagine someone actually wants to marry me?" she added. A mischievous grin tugged at her lips.
"I've seen the pictures you sent me, but what's he really like?" Kaitlyn asked.
"Oh Kaitlyn, he's..." her voice trailed off as the front-door- bell chimed. "That must be him now," Annette uttered. In one fluid movement she stood up and raced out the door.
Kaitlyn envied the wondrous look she'd glimpsed on her friend's face, before Annette sped away. Left alone she reached for her flute case on the floor beside her. She flipped the lock, opening the case. She took out the beloved instrument and with a minimum amount of movement brought it to life.
Kaitlyn tried a few experimental notes of the mysterious melody. She held the instrument away from her lips when she failed. She closed her eyes, as she tried to recall the stranger and his affect on her.
"Welcome home, Kaitlyn," a deep voice intruded from the doorway.
Startled, Kaitlyn opened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder. Her jaw went
slack as she gazed at the tall, slender man standing in the doorway. In a split second she recognized the stranger from the ferry.
He was no longer wet. His hair was dark brown and his eyes, she finally noticed, were winter-storm grey. A dark blue knitted sweater covered his wide chest. Jeans hugged his narrow hips.
He looked like someone she knew, but could not place. As her eyes locked with
his, she again experienced the awakening of the melody. She rose in a daze. She faced
the attractive man, who kept eye contact as the tempo inside her increased.
"Who are you...?" Before an answer could be voiced her friend re-entered the room.
"Oh, have you two finally met?" Annette asked as she passed the tall man at the door. She was not alone, but tugged another man forward. "Kaitlyn, I want you to meet Kenneth Phillips. This is the sweet man who is willing to marry me."
"Kaitlyn, it is a pleasure to meet you at last," he said smiling. He hugged her closely. "My bride-to-be said you were lovely, but she failed to say how beautiful."
Kaitlyn suffered the scrutiny of the groom-to-be, all too aware of the other silent man still in the doorway. She was nervous, but didn't dare to look in his direction. She sensed he hadn't taken his eyes off her.
"Oh, yada, yada," Annette said. She linked her arms around her future husband. "There's no way I'm letting you change you mind, about who you're going to marry now you've met Kaitlyn."
"No change of heart," Kenneth whispered, as he embraced Annette. "No offense Kaitlyn, but I've found my one true love."
"Hah," Annette laughed. "Come on, you sweet talker, dinner is waiting," she muttered, ushering her fiancé towards the door. Kaitlyn watched as the other silent man remained in her friend's path.
"I have not as yet had the opportunity of being introduced," he said softly. Kaitlyn tensed. She still could not look directly at him.
"Oh!" Annette uttered, "Sorry." She left her fiancé's side and moved back to Kaitlyn. She took Kaitlyn by the hand and pulled her towards the tall man.
"Kaitlyn, may I introduce you to one of your biggest fans," Annette said. "This is
Steven, my older brother."
Startled, Kaitlyn's gaze locked with rich pewter eyes. "Your..eh.. brother?" she stammered. She realized he looked familiar because he resembled his father.
"Yep. It's amazing you two never met," Annette answered. "Steven was already away at university when you moved to Victoria," her friend explained. "Every time he came home for the holidays, you were gone up-island to your parents."
Steven reached for her suddenly frozen fingers and clasped them in his large, warm hand. "Welcome home, Kaitlyn," he repeated, his deep voice sending chills down her spine. The melody only she could hear, reached a crescendo as his fingers tightened around hers.
* * *
On The Third Day ...
Kaitlyn awoke to find herself tangled in the sheets. The haunting melody vibrated
in her ears. Removing only her arms out of the twisted covers she reached for a note pad and pencil on the night table. With quick, decisive strokes she filled several pages with scales and notes.
* * *
That evening, after spending a lazy day with her parents, Kaitlyn traveled to the
small church for the wedding rehearsal. She sat in the choir section and softly practiced
'Pachebel's Canon', 'Ave Maria', 'Jesu of Man's Desiring', 'Beethoven's 9th' and, 'Ravel's Bolero'.
Steven Abbott came, but he was not alone. Kaitlyn had yet to meet the shapely blonde woman he'd escorted into the church earlier. For her part, Kaitlyn played her flute and tried not to look at the disturbing man, who seemed solely responsible for her uneasy mood.
After the rehearsal, Kaitlyn volunteered to give a ride to several of the wedding party members going to the Abbott's home for a late supper.
* * *
There was joy and laughter around the large dining-room table. Introductions were made and Kaitlyn, seated across from Steven and the blonde at his side, suddenly found herself playing with her food.
"And this is Diane Simpson," Mr. Abbott said. "Diane works for both Steven and Kenneth."
Kaitlyn offered the woman a stiff smile. She avoided meeting the pewter gaze of Diane's dinner companion. That was until Diane leaned forward to address a comment to Kaitlyn.
"Stevie just adores your flute playing," she cooed. "It's all he ever listens to at the office and in his truck."
Kaitlyn's appetite had somehow deserted her. As luck would have it, Diane's comment did cause her to choke on the small sip of wine she'd just taken. Someone thumped her on her back, for which she was grateful, but it was the smoldering grey eyes across the table which claimed her attention.
'Stevie' didn't look one bit uncomfortable as the conversation shifted his way. In fact his expression was unreadable, save for his heated gaze as it locked with hers.
"Yes, Steven has taken every one of those tapes you mailed to Annette," Mr. Abbott piped in. "Whenever he came home from veterinarian school, the first thing he asked for was the new tapes."
"I must add," Kenneth said, from the other end of the table, "I had to stop helping him in surgery. The music was just too loud."
If it were possible, Kaitlyn felt she'd go up in flames. How was one to react to such a compliment? This grown, very attractive man listened to her music. She didn't know what to say.
"Thank you," she whispered in the end.
"My pleasure," he answered, as a sexy smile tugged at his lips. Kaitlyn had to drag her gaze away. For the rest of the evening she kept her distance from the disturbing man.
* * *
On The Fourth Day ...
"Hello," Kaitlyn's voice came out raspy. Her heart thumped hard and fast. Her fingers, grasping the towel wrapped around her damp, nude body, trembled.
"Cheri, how are you?"
Why Kaitlyn thought the call was from Steven Abbott she had no idea. When her
mother said the phone was for her, Kaitlyn had literally rushed to pick it up. Hearing the accented voice of her fiancé...no, her now ex-fiance on the other end, brought her down to earth fast.
"Henri," she answered. "Why are you calling?"
"Cheri, is that any way to talk to your future husband?" he whined. Why had she never realized the lead violinist whined? It must have been her temporary blindness to his great looks and huge talent.
"It's over Henri," she ground out. "Our whirlwind courtship kept me in a daze. The swiftness of our relationship took me by surprise," Kaitlyn took a deep breath before continuing. "From the moment you joined the last tour, I was blinded by your suave, European elegance."
"I know you liked my looks, Cheri," he cooed.
Kaitlyn swore under her breath. The man had become conveniently deaf. She now recalled that before she could even inform her parents and friends about meeting him, he'd placed an engagement ring on her finger. He was to have come on this trip with her, to break the wonderful news to her folks.
That had come to an abrupt end the night before she left L.A. She'd arrived unexpectedly at his apartment to finalize plans with him. But he hadn't been alone. Kaitlyn recognized a fellow orchestra member relaxed on the sofa, in some degree of undress.
At Kaitlyn's shocked expression, Henri had shrugged and simply said, "but, Cheri, our situation doesn't mean I can't see other beautiful women."
Kaitlyn had thrown the engagement ring back in his face and stormed out. She'd
set out for Victoria that same night, not wanting to stay a moment longer.
Now here he was on the phone, as if nothing had happened. 'Her future husband', had she heard him right?
"You are never going to be my husband, Henri," Kaitlyn shouted. The nerve of the man.
"Oh, but of course I am," his answer came through the phone. Kaitlyn's anger rose.
"No, you will not!"
* * *
"Are you all right?"
Kaitlyn stood in the ante-room of the church, staring off into space. She turned as Steven's deep voice reached through her troubled thoughts.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He gently tilted her chin up with warm fingers. When
she didn't answer he searched her face. "Tell me Kaitlyn, what's making you so sad? I'll
try to fix it."
Kaitlyn was unable to stop the tears which pooled. "I don't think you can Steven," she whispered. She moved away. As usual his nearness was disturbing.
She brushed the foolish tears away and straightened her dress. She stepped over to the full-length mirror hanging on the far wall. Steven followed, standing silently behind her.
Their images reflected back. Steven, tall and handsome, dressed in a light grey
tuxedo, the colour accenting his pewter eyes. And she, a slender woman with sad whisky-coloured eyes, whose height barely reached his chin, even in her high heels. Kaitlyn’s rich, red auburn tresses piled high on her head suited the scooped off-the-shoulders, iridescent green tea length dress.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he whispered.
Steven's softly spoken words drew her gaze to his. Their eyes held in the mirror. Kaitlyn watched mesmerized as his long fingers crept around her waist and he gently drew her back against his warm, hard body.
He lowered his head until their cheeks touched. They stared at their reflections for long silent moments. Kaitlyn reached up and covered his fingers with hers. She wondered if he could hear the melodious notes playing in her head.
"Steven...?" She didn't get to finish. Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside the room.
Steven straightened. He reluctantly backed away, his fingers stayed linked to hers until the last possible moment. He turned as the door opened and the rest of the groom's party filed in.
Kaitlyn moved about in confusion. Keeping her eyes down, she collected her flute and went into the church. The pews were slowly filling. The wedding party had decorated the interior with white chrysanthemums and red poinsettia. It was a lovely setting to hold a Christmas-eve wedding.
As she moved into place, Kaitlyn spotted her parents. She smiled at them before taking a deep breath to calm her chaotic mind. Ever so softly she began to play.
Annette's marriage ceremony to the man she loved was beautiful. Kaitlyn knew
she would carry away many happy memories.
* * *
On The Fifth Day ...
Kaitlyn stood in her parents' kitchen and sipped hot coffee. It was early Christmas morning. Her mother and father were still asleep, but that wonderful state had eluded her.
She had lain awake long after she'd retired. Finally giving up she'd sat up in bed and the melody was no longer mysterious. She had filled several lined pages with the musical scales and notes.
'Evermore'. Kaitlyn had decided it was the perfect title. Sometime during the early hours she had scribbled the name above the first page. It was the same notes, repeated again and again using different stanzas. It built into a haunting crescendo, before descending into quiet nothingness.
She had Steven and the one dance she'd shared with him at the reception, to thank
for keeping her awake. He'd found her in the shadows outside the reception hall. She
was standing quietly, watching the enjoyment of the others on the dance floor. A smile tugged at her lips as she followed the movements of her parents.
"May I have the next dance," Steven had whispered in her ear.
He had not waited for an answer. When Kaitlyn turned, she found herself gently
drawn into his arms. She could not recall what tune the band played. They had danced in perfect step to the vibrating melody inside her head. The one only Steven evoked through her body. Kaitlyn never asked how he kept time or if he heard and felt the same as she.
By mutual consent they had stayed in the shadows. Both his arms had wrapped themselves around her waist, bringing her close, while her arms rested on his shoulders, her hands clasped behind his neck. Her thumbs teased the soft ends of his dark hair.
He'd buried his nose in her hair. His lips brushed her ear. Kaitlyn thought he placed several soft kisses on the side of her head, but could not be sure.
Kaitlyn moved as if she had danced with him forever. With every tortured breath she inhaled his scent; strong, masculine and sexy. She wanted to stay in his arms forever.
"Kaitlyn..." He whispered her name. In a dream-like movement, she'd eased away to look at him. Time hung suspended, as she drowned in his gaze. The melody pulsed through her aching body. For Kaitlyn, some strong emotion surged and threatened to overwhelm her.
Did he feel it too? "Steven...?" she never asked the question.
"There you are, Stevie." Diane's voice came from behind them.
Kaitlyn moved out of Steven's arms. She backed further into the shadows, frightened of the feelings warring inside her. She heard an emergency exit swish open behind her. Without hesitation she turned and disappeared through it before it swung shut.
Now this morning as she sipped her coffee, Kaitlyn was afraid of what 'Evermore'
signified. She did not want to acknowledge what those notes and the churning emotions
evoked. How could she surrender to the answer staring her in the face?
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." Kaitlyn spun around at her father's greeting.
"Merry Christmas, Dad," she answered. She discarded her cup on the counter and gave him a hug. "Shall we treat Mom to breakfast in bed?"
"Why not," he grinned. Kaitlyn watched as he tightened his robe's belt and pushed back the long sleeves. "What shall we prepare?"
"We might as well make it a grand affair," she answered. "After all, we're invited to the Abbott's for the going away dinner."
"That was very nice of them to include us," her father added. "In the past few years your mother and I have usually gone out for Christmas dinner. It's difficult finding a turkey small enough for just the two of us."
"Yes, it was nice of the Abbotts to hold an open house," she said. "And I do understand how hard it is to cook for two," Kaitlyn said, as she grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge. "I have to cook for one, remember?"
"Well anyway, it will be nice for you to see Annette once again, before she heads
off to Mexico for her honeymoon," he said, his head in the cupboard looking for the large
frying pan.
The morning sped away with the meal being a success and so were the several presents she'd brought for her parents. She had several copies of her new releases taped from a live concert. She had one for her folks and one for the Abbotts.
For a moment Kaitlyn wondered if Steven would make a recording of it for himself. Since she had an extra disc, she decided to give him his own copy. Since she believed Steven was responsible for 'Evermore', she wondered if she should play it for
him. No, she wasn't ready to go down that road just yet.
* * *
"Do you think your brother will marry Diane?" The question was out before Kaitlyn could stop herself from asking.
"No way!" Annette replied. The two friends were in Annette's bedroom, where they had retired after the scrumptious dinner, to finish the new bride's packing.
"Why are you so sure?" Kaitlyn hated to ask, but could not seem to stop.
Annette gave her a hard, searching look. "Let's just say I know Steven and he does not feel that way about Diane," she said, placing a two piece swimsuit into the suitcase.
"Where's the love of my life?" Kenneth's voice startled the two friends. He stood in the doorway, his eyes only for his bride.
Kaitlyn made a quiet exit, leaving the two lovers alone.
She had hoped for some time alone with Annette to discuss the problem of Henri. Now it didn't seem all that important. Kaitlyn went in search of the man capturing her every thought.
He was nowhere to be found. Diane was also missing. Kaitlyn had to believe they were together. The blonde woman had seemed in a foul mood all through dinner.
"Come and keep an old man company," Mr. Abbott called out as she passed his den.
"You're not an old man," she answered with a grin. When she entered the room she couldn't help but recall all the evenings spent with Annette at the desk, doing home-work assignments. "I've always loved this room," she told him. He sat in his favourite chair before a roaring fire.
"So sit," he pointed to another chair. "What are you going to do about Steven?"
"What?" Kaitlyn, in the process of lowering herself into the chair, froze.
"Well my dear, he's been in love with you from the first moment he came home and saw that photo."
Shocked, Kaitlyn could only follow Mr. Abbott's pointing finger to the mantle, where a framed photograph of her and Annette rested.
When her shaking legs could not support her frozen pose one second longer, Kaitlyn flopped ungracefully into the chair. Her dazed glance moved from an amused Mr. Abbott to the juvenile girls in the snapshot. Was that why her friend had just given her that searching look? Did she also think her older brother held those kinds of feelings?
"Ah, there you are, Martin," Mrs. Abbott came into the silent room. "Come say good-bye to the Reverend and his wife, they are about to leave," she coaxed her husband, who still watched Kaitlyn.
As soon as the couple left the room, Kaitlyn jumped to life. She desperately needed to be alone with her thoughts. She wandered towards the back of the Abbott’s
house, where Sheila had cultivated a warm, friendly sun-room filled of exotic trees, flowering plants and comfortable wicker chaises and chairs.
Grateful that the cozy room was empty, Kaitlyn kicked off her shoes and curled up on one of the chaise. Someone had put on one of her recordings. The music was softly piped into the sun-room.
Despite the chaotic thoughts flashing through her mind and the wild insinuation
from Mr. Abbott about Steven, the familiar music soon lulled her to long, denied sleep.
* * *
"I love you," the soft whisper drifted into her dream. She smiled. Kaitlyn turned towards the familiar deep voice, but could not seem to find him.
The darkness engulfed her, but she smelled the wonderful scent only he wore. She felt his lips brush hers. She moaned, her mouth seeking his. Warm, gentle lips pressed against hers and she opened up to let him in.
He kissed her deeply. The dream became magical. Kaitlyn sighed and hoped never to wake up. She snuggled deeper into the bed. No, she was not in bed at home. Kaitlyn came fully awake.
The sun room. She was in the Abbott’s house. The sounds of Christmas carol music came quietly. Her gazed circled the room and with some shock came to an abrupt stop at the man sitting in a chair pulled up close.
Steven lounged in the chair. A brandy snifter rested easily against his lap. His heated gaze burned a path to her toes. Kaitlyn could only sit there and wonder again at the words his father had earlier spoken. It must be why she'd just had an erotic dream about him.
Was it possible this attractive man loved her? Kaitlyn wet her lips to speak. Another shock. She tasted brandy. Suspiciously her gaze moved to the liquid in his glass. She raised a questioning glance to him.
He'd actually kissed her while she slept. And lord, she'd kissed him back. She felt the heat spread up her neck and across her cheeks. How dare he? How could she?
Kaitlyn quickly rose. She uttered a strangled screech as she felt her body start to
crumble. Her legs were asleep. Steven guessed her problem. He quickly set aside his drink. Before she collapsed on the heated tile floor, his strong arms caught her.
"Don't move." She was clasped gently, but firmly, against a warm hard chest. She didn't protest when he eased her back on the chaise and took her prickling toes in his hands.
That's how her parents found them. They'd come to check if she were ready to leave. She sat in silent agony with her cream wool skirt riding high on her thighs, as Steven explained why he was massaging her stocking covered legs and feet. Soon his wonderful hands worked magic. Kaitlyn felt the blood flow through her once more.
She allowed him to retrieve her shoes and slip them on her feet. Kaitlyn stood with Steven's assistance. She avoided his eyes as she thanked him, before moving towards her parents.
"Night, Steven," they called.
Kaitlyn paused. She glanced over her shoulder to the man standing in the beautiful room. "Thank you, again," she whispered.
He remained silent, just staring at her. Kaitlyn was about to follow her folks when she remembered something. She turned and came back to Steven.
"I left something under the Christmas tree for you," Kaitlyn whispered, as she reached up and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Steven."
* * *
On The Sixth Day ...
"What would you like to do today?"
The following morning found the Novak family seated around the kitchen table, finishing off a late breakfast. Kaitlyn glanced up from the entertainment section of the newspaper. She could not recall one word on the printed page. Common sense had taken flight from the moment she'd awaken. Only thoughts of Steven danced across her mind.
"We could go shopping," her mother answered, interrupting her wayward thoughts.
"Are you out of your mind?" her father uttered, looking totally shocked at the suggestion.
"What's wrong with going shopping?" Kaitlyn asked a little confused.
"Your father is right," her mom said. "You will not believe the madness in the shops today. It has become the worst, and, in a way, the best day to find fabulous bargains."
Kaitlyn listened as her parents related amusing tales about 'Boxing Day Sales'. When she'd heard enough she shook her head.
"Well you have convinced me," she laughed. "I don't want to spend my day fighting off huge crowds."
"So what are we going to do?" her father persisted.
In the end the family spent a quiet day walking around the city's downtown streets, singing along with the Carols piped from the stores to the sidewalks. The weather stayed mild and they huddled under warm blankets to enjoy a horse and buggy ride, admiring the wonderful holiday decorations on the route. Later they stopped and drank large cups of cappuccino. They shared laughter at each other's frothy mustaches.
Kaitlyn was happy for the distractions. She marveled that she had spent a few
hours not thinking about the handsome, though very disturbing Steven. As she got ready for bed later that night, she wondered what was happening to her.
"Sweetheart, the phone is for you." The words came from her father as he knocked at the bathroom door.
"Thanks, Dad," Kaitlyn answered as she opened the door. She walked slowly to the phone in her room, hesitating to pick up the extension. Could it be Henri?
"Hello," she spoke a little harshly into the receiver.
"Kaitlyn," Steven's deep voice reached her.
"Steven!" Kaitlyn felt so relieved she almost giggled. "Hello, how are you?" she said cheerfully.
"I'm fine. And you?" he asked. "How did you spend your day?"
"I'm also fine," she answered.
"Thank you for my Christmas present," he said. "I've been listening to it all day." He paused. Kaitlyn waited, not daring to breathe. "One day I would like to be present at one of your performances."
Kaitlyn didn't know what to say. After her thoughts about Steven, she was unsure of how to deal with his devotion to her music.
"I'm sorry to be calling so late," he spoke, into the awkward silence.
"We were still awake," she told him. "Was there something you wanted?" she asked. There was a prolonged pause and for a moment Kaitlyn thought he would hang up without speaking.
“Are you busy tomorrow?" She heard him cough and clear his throat. Puzzled at
the question she asked.
"Why do you ask?"
I was...eh...well," he paused again. "I have to go over to Vancouver tomorrow, and wondered if you might like to come along for the day," his words came out in a rush.
Kaitlyn felt her heart race. Spend the day with Steven! Could she? After the words from his father and the strange behaviour from Annette, could she trust herself with the handsome, sexy Steven? Out of the blue, Kaitlyn remember how he tasted. The kiss, the one she thought she dreamt, had been real. If she said yes, was she putting her heart at risk of being hurt again? After Henri...?
"Kaitlyn?" Her name came as a caress through the phone. The deep voice sent shivers down to her toes. Henri had never done that to her just by whispering her name.
"Kaitlyn, I want to spend tomorrow with you," Steven spoke softly. "Will you come with me?"
"Yes." She uttered the one word and heard the quick inhaled breath on the other end of the line. "Did you think I would refuse?" she asked Steven.
"I didn't know if you might have other plans," he answered.
"Will you pick me up and what time should I be ready?" she asked with a smile, already excited about the outing with him.
"We'll have to catch the first ferry," he offered. He laughed when she protested at the early hour he mentioned. "By the way," he continued, "tell your parents I'll feed you so they shouldn't wait supper. I don't know how late we'll be."
"Okay," she said, hugging herself with her free arm.
“Night," he whispered. "And Kaitlyn, please bring your flute."
* * *
On The Seventh Day ...
"Why is it called "O" Avenue?" Kaitlyn asked.
They had been traveling along the narrow two-lane road since leaving the ferry terminal. The crossing had been uneventful. They both seemed to be slightly uncomfortable with each other.
"It's not "O" as in the letter of the alphabet," Steven said with a chuckle. "It's actually zero as in the number."
"Why?" Kaitlyn asked, confused.
"It's the first road into Canada," he explained. "See that other road over there?" Steven explained, pointing to a parallel road about a foot away.
"Yes," she answered, nodding.
"That's the United States," he said matter-of-factly.
"What?"
"Check the license of the car up ahead in that lane," Steven offered, slowing his truck.
"You're right," Kaitlyn uttered amazed.
"The narrow ditch is all that separates the two countries," Steven said, as he
flicked his indicator on and turned into the driveway of a picketed white fenced farm.
Kaitlyn only had enough time to read the words 'Appaloosa Bred', before they passed the entrance-sign. The road wound through towering birch trees lining the narrow drive. Here and there jumps and training tracks were visible in the fields. Steven drove passed the large ranch house, towards the huge barns in the distance.
He parked the truck between two horse-trailers, turning off the engine. He
climbed out, coming around to her side. Kaitlyn thanked him as he helped her out. Their fingers stayed linked as he retrieved her flute case and his medical-bag from the back-seat. She allowed him to escort her to the structure.
The huge structure was heated. The warm air hung heavy with the scent of hay and horses. Kaitlyn took a deep breath. It smelled welcoming.
"Thanks for coming with me," Steven said. She glanced at the handsome man at her side when he paused. He was looking intently down at her. Their gazes locked. The heat pulsing through her body had nothing to do with the surroundings. It had everything to do with the fire she read in his eyes.
"Steven, thanks for coming so quickly," the words interrupted the intimate moment.
They both turned to face an elderly man making his way to their side. His short, stocky frame moved swiftly for someone his age. Kaitlyn noticed his face wore a worried frown. He held his hand out to Steven as he closed the distance.
"I'll try to do my best, Edward," Steven said, taking the out-stretched hand. "This is Kaitlyn," he introduced her.
"I'm happy to meet you," Edward said. "I hope I didn't put too much of a damper
on your holidays."
"No, you haven't," Steven spoke quickly. "That's why I brought Kaitlyn along."
"Well, I'll get out of your way," he said. With a nod, he moved off. "I'll send coffee and sandwiches down to you," he added as he reached the door, where he paused, "You will send word to me, as soon as you can?"
"Yes," Steven answered.
Wordlessly they moved off. Steven's long fingers held hers tenderly curled in his warm palm. Kaitlyn's insides were still reeling chaotically from their earlier eye contact. She allowed him to take her along deeper into the stables.
He finally let go of her when they reached an open stall doorway. He stepped in and crouched down near another man. Kaitlyn saw a horse lying on the hay covered floor. She peered over Steven's shoulder to get a better look.
"How's she holding up, Bob?" Steven asked.
"Don't rightly know," the man answered. "She is in pain, that's for sure."
"Well, I better have a look," he said, turning to his bag. He handed Kaitlyn the flute case. "Why don't you sit over there, Kaitlyn," Steven pointed to several bales of hay in the corner of the oversized stall. "Maybe you can play or practice while I work," he added, a smile tugged at his sexy mouth.
"Ha!" Kaitlyn returned. "Now I know why you brought me along," she laughed, feeling suddenly light and free. She gave Steven her best cheeky smile.
"Well, I did want to see you perform in person," he added.
Kaitlyn made herself comfortable. For a long time she quietly played her flute,
watching Steven work on the injured horse. The other man wandered away and the two of them remained within the warm, cozy stall.
True to his word, Edward sent them food. Steven joined her on the hay and they ate in comfortable silence. He told her he had to wait a few hours to check on the horse, before they could leave.
Sated and contented with Steven close, Kaitlyn drifted off. She dreamed. The
deep baritone voice whispered in her ear. She turned to seek him. Her mouth was taken in a searching kiss. It brought her slowly to wakefulness.
She was lying back against the hay and Steven was kissing her deeply. Kaitlyn groaned, her fingers buried themselves in his thick hair. She swallowed his moan as he rolled his upper body fully onto hers. The kiss went on.
She felt Steven's chest ease away. She whined in protest. She needn't have worried. The pressure was replaced by his warm hand finding its way under her sweater. His palm caressed her lace covered breast. Kaitlyn arched into him.
A loud snort echoed nearby. Abruptly the kiss ended. Kaitlyn stared into Steven's stormy pewter eyes only inches above her. His gaze searched her face. Her breathing became raspy as his glance lowered to her mouth. She saw him close his eyes tightly as the snorting sound came again. Steven opened his eyes. He didn't look her way again, but straightened and turned away.
It took Kaitlyn several moments longer to sit upright. She was glad Steven was down on his knees tending the horse. With fingers which shook, she adjusted her clothes and tried to brush the wisps of hay out of her braided hair. Her movements stilled as she heard the deep baritone voice filled the silence.
"One day Kaitlyn, I'm going to have you all to myself, without any interruptions," Steven vowed quietly.
* * *
On The Tenth Day ...
She was in love with Steven Abbott.
Three days following her momentous trip to the horse ranch, Kaitlyn was ready to pull her hair out. Three days had passed and she had not heard one word from Steven. Sometime during the night after he left her at her parent's door, Kaitlyn had to admit to her feelings for the handsome, sexy man.
Kaitlyn needed to talk to him. She had tried to phone him. No luck. Before the day was over, she wanted to see Steven. She had to...,no, needed to confirm what was happening to her. Before she reached the phone it rang.
"Hello," Kaitlyn's heart raced, hoping it was Steven.
"Cheri, is that you?"
Henri. Kaitlyn's heart slowed. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was him. Where in heaven's name was Steven when she needed him?
"Cheri, are you there?" Henri whined.
"Yes, Henri, I am still here," Kaitlyn forced her voice to sound civil. "What can I do for you?"
"I have arrived Cheri. Where do I tell the taxi to take me?"
It took Kaitlyn several seconds to comprehend what he had said. When she finally understood, she shook with rage. How dare he? The man had no conscience!
* * *
"I am not going to marry you, Henri," Kaitlyn repeated. She sat across from
Henri Dupres, having tea at the Empress Hotel. She had rushed over rather than give him
her address. When she left, she told her parents only that she was on her way to the famous hotel, to have tea with a friend.
"This is such a quaint little town, Cheri," Henri said. He ignored her statement. He had repeatedly done that ever since she'd sat down.
"Henri, I need you to listen to me," Kaitlyn ground out. Where was Steven when she so desperately wanted his help?
"Kaitlyn."
Her head whipped around as she heard the deep baritone voice. When she saw Steven standing close, she rose out of her chair, a welcoming smile on her face.
"Oh hello, are you a friend of Kaitlyn's?" Henri asked, moving between Kaitlyn and Steven. "How do you do," he held out his hand not waiting for an answer. "I'm Henri Dupres, Kaitlyn's fiancé."
* * *
On The Eleventh Day ...
Kaitlyn's head pounded. Her feet ached and her eyes stung. She was at her wit's end. For more than twenty-four hours, she'd been unsuccessfully trying to locate Steven. No answer at his office. She found his home number in the phone book. No answer. She finally went to his parents. They had not heard from him. Mr. Abbott had searched her face when he answered the door.
"What happened?" he'd asked. Kaitlyn could only shake her head. What could
she say? That she'd lost her heart to a man who had heard the disastrous words from
Henri, gave her a long, hard stare and walked away even though she'd run after him?
She'd gone back into the crowded tea-room and screamed at the top of her lungs. If Henri hadn't gotten the message then, he never would.
"Try his apartment." Mr. Abbott had given her the address. She had not found any sign of Steven there. She spent a sleepless night. The following day Kaitlyn searched everywhere, repeating the actions of the previous day. So here she was on New Year's Eve, driving through the downtown traffic and street revelers. She had to check the office, one last time, since her repeated phone calls were never answered.
Steven's truck was not parked out front. Kaitlyn was about to drive on, when she decided to check behind the building. Her heart raced as she recognized the lone vehicle parked in the rear. She pulled in beside it and turned off the engine. She took a deep shaky breath. She had to be very careful or she'd lose the one man, who mattered more than anyone right now in her life.
The back door was unlocked. Kaitlyn opened it and walked in. The hallway was dimly lit, but there was no mistaking the loud music coming through the speakers. He was listening to the tape she'd given him for Christmas.
The tears, which had been kept at bay for too many hours, finally found release. Kaitlyn's heart filled with love. His father was correct in his observation, Steven must love her. Why else would he hide away here all alone with only her music blaring, on a night like tonight? She hoped she was right. She could not lose him now that she'd finally found him. She loved him so much.
His office door stood ajar. There was only one lamp lit in the corner. The sight
of the man she loved, his head slumped over his arms on his desk, brought a fresh rush of
tears down Kaitlyn's cheeks. She stayed in the shadowy hallway, feeling his pain. It became her own.
"Steven."
The figure didn't move.
"Steven." Kaitlyn moved into the room. He remained the same. Maybe the music was too loud. Kaitlyn searched for the source, hoping to turn it down. It was too dim to find. She cleared her tear-clogged throat and tried again, this time louder.
"Steven!"
His body jerked upright. He stared straight at her. Kaitlyn was shocked at his appearance. He had bruised dark circles under his wonderful eyes. Those pewter orbs now listlessly regarded her. He wore the same sweater from the last time she'd seen him.
In horror, Kaitlyn watched him push back from the desk, rise and turn away. He walked unsteadily to a filing cabinet. He removed a bottle of alcohol from its top draw.
"Steven, don't," Kaitlyn rushed to his side to grab his arm when he tilted the bottle to his lips. The sound of the bottle hitting the carpeted floor filled the silence.
"Kaitlyn?"
She raised her gaze from the mess on the floor to the man she loved. Her fingers were still twisted in his sweater. Kaitlyn watched as Steven shook his head several times. The glazed look in his eyes sharpened with each blink of his eyes.
"Kaitlyn?"
"Yes, Steven."
"You're here, really here?" he asked. "Right here in my office?"
"Yes," she answered. "I've been looking ..." Kaitlyn didn't finish. She was
swiftly wrapped in Steven's embrace. His hug tightened around her. She hugged him back.
"Kaitlyn I can't let you marry that guy," Steven whispered in her ear. "I'll die if you marry someone else," he added, squeezing her tightly. "I'd been stuck up north for two and a half days, looking after sick cows. I rushed to your house when...when I got back," he paused drawing a rough breath, "your mother...she told me where to find you, I...," he trailed off.
"Why won't you let me marry him?" Kaitlyn asked with a smile. Her face snuggled closer into his warm chest. She wondered how much Steven had drank out of the wasted bottle on the floor.
"Because you're mine," he stated simply.
"Yours?" Kaitlyn questioned, her smile broadened.
"Darned right you're mine!" Steven sounded indignant. "You've been mine from the first time I came home for holidays and saw a photo of you."
So Mr. Abbott had been right!
"Do you know how depressed I was," he continued, "when I thought you had
missed the ferry," his arms tightened again. "I'd dreamed up an appointment in Vancouver, just so I'd be on the ferry the day you were due home."
"I thought you looked like a drowned rat," Kaitlyn said with a chuckle. "A very handsome, loveable, drowned rat."
"I love you, you know," he whispered, easing back to look down at her.
"Yes, I know," Kaitlyn answered, unable to say another word at the look in the pewter eyes.
"Kaitlyn..."
* * *
On The Twelfth Day ...One year later.
He had blown it.
Everything had blown away like the constant swirling, misty rain. His plans, the careful calculations, the timing, even this unnecessary trip; they had all been for nothing.
He had patiently watched, from the side-lines, as the other lanes at the ferry terminal filled with the cars, trucks and buses on their way to Victoria. Now as he made his way to his truck, the first vehicle parked in the assured-sailing lane, his tall slender frame curved inward against the weather and his disappointment.
When the employee finally waved him forward, he drove up the ramp. He parked and turned off the ignition. He sat hunched over the steering-wheel long after everyone from the other vehicles had moved up to the main decks. The cold finally seeped into his rain dampened clothing. Reluctantly he dragged himself out to go in search of a hot cup
of coffee.
Before he reached the cafeteria the ferry shuddered beneath his feet, slowly moving away from the docks. The horn sounded as he momentarily forgot the coffee and instead stepped out on the rain slicked deck.
He silently cursed the circling sea-gulls, the foul January weather and whatever was the unknown reason behind his unfulfilled plans. With a feeling of deja-vu, he turned to re-enter the passenger area, his steps faltered and his heart stilled...
She stood against the bulk-head dressed very much like the first time he had seen her. She had stood in the very spot on another ferry, more than one year ago. Her fingers shoved deep in her pockets were no doubt playing the wondrous melody, that he'd come to know so well. The one she claimed only he could cause to vibrate through her body to her toes.
He straightened, his baritone laughter joining the surrounding noises. He moved towards the woman he loved. The woman, who loved him enough to give up an advancing career, to return home to teach young children and to be his wife. He reached her side and looked down into the love-filled whisky-coloured eyes.
"Welcome home, Kaitlyn."
The End
Volume 2 (issue 1)
Twelve Days
by Yasmin John-Thorpe
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