Sleigh Bells in Valentine Valley (26 page)

“Okay, that's good.” He smiled. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

And he walked back inside, leaving her out in the cold.

T
ony didn't bother going home for dinner like Kate had. He was relieved to have a couple hours break from her before she returned in time for the evening's festival work. The widows descended on the tavern to coordinate the first delivery of bake sale items. Tony stared in bemusement at the big table set up along one wall in his back room, which now made his place look like a bakery. Even the pool table was covered, to the good-natured disgruntlement of a couple of cowboys.

He watched Kate bustle about with the widows, trying to look cheerful, and probably succeeding to most people in the room. But not to him. Every smile looked forced, and her eyes had lost that gleam. Was she focusing so intently on the festival that nothing else mattered? Or was she thinking about their split?

He certainly was. He'd thought of nothing else all evening. He'd been trying to find the right time to end things, and the motivation had been that stupid sleigh ride around Valentine. He'd pulled her against him—what had he been thinking? He
hadn't
been thinking, not with his head, that's for sure. He'd stopped thinking the moment he'd challenged her to work for him. On the sleigh ride, she'd made such adorable sounds looking at the Christmas lights, like she'd never seen them before. And when she'd looked up at him, the lights had reflected in her merry eyes. If she hadn't kissed him first, he would have kissed her.

And then—the breakup had just spilled out of his mouth, and it was like he'd watched Christmas die in her eyes. He'd known from the beginning that someone might get hurt, but he was frankly shocked it was her. At least . . . he told himself it was only her. But how to account for the frozen hole where his heart should have been? He'd existed in a depressed daze the last few hours.

Oh, he'd rationalized everything: of course she felt bad, they'd been having a good time; the breakup probably reminded her that real life was returning fast, and she'd be leaving.

And then he'd ask himself, Why would she be sad to be leaving? It was what she wanted—wasn't it?

She escorted a man with a box into the back room, directing him where to set it. When she saw Tony, her smile faded just a bit, and he felt like he'd kicked a puppy.

And then his dad came in with Mrs. Thalberg, carrying a few bags. Huh, his dad and Mrs. Thalberg. Still seemed . . . surreal. But he was glad they were both happy. Christina Fenelli arrived next, and Tony suddenly became more alert. She was breathing heavily, though she was only carrying one small bag. Her face looked pinched with strain.

“Kate?” he called, not wanting to alarm Christina.

But whatever was in his voice, Kate responded to it fast, shooting a glance at him. He pointed to her mom, and he saw Kate literally drain of color before his eyes.

“Mom? Hey, Mom, give me that.” She took the bag, and then she took Christina's arm.

Sounding breathless, Christina said, “Kate? What's wrong?”

“I don't know, you tell me. Come on, sit down.”

Tony pulled a chair right up behind her, and Christina gave a little “oof” as Kate made her sit.

Christina forced a laugh. “I'm just tired from the holiday.”

“Mom, you don't look just tired. You're breathing heavily, and all you did was walk in from the parking lot.”

“Well, yeah, I do feel a little light-headed and queasy.”

Kate squatted in front of her. “Okay, I'm calling an ambulance.”

“No! I don't need an ambulance, I'm just fighting a cold or something.”

“You've been strangely out of breath a few times this last month. It's not just a cold. Tony?”

He already had his phone out of his pocket, and he dialed 911.

“Kate, this is silly,” Christina insisted. “Let's just go to Doc Ericson's. He'll see me.”

“And he'll tell you to go to the hospital. Mom, if it's nothing serious, then we can all have a good laugh after. But if it's serious—Mom, it's a half hour to the hospital in Aspen. We can't afford to wait. Now let's open your coat a bit so you don't overheat.”

Without being asked, Tony next began to call Kate's dad and brothers. She noticed what he was doing and thanked him with a warm, tremulous smile. He watched her show no fear to her mom; Kate just teased her to make her relax. Kate was the kind of woman who handled emergencies well, and he'd always admired that.

The fire department was only a few blocks away—like everything in Valentine—and the ambulance arrived so quickly that Kate barely had time to unbutton her mom's coat. The paramedics worked with efficiency and an easy calm, as if nothing bad would happen.

Tony saw the way Kate had her arms folded over her chest. She was clutching her elbows with white fingers. He put a hand on her shoulder and she gave him a distracted, thankful glance. She was trembling, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and bear the burden of her fear if he could.

As they began to roll the stretcher through the front of the tavern, Kate fell in line, asking if she could ride with her mom. Tony grabbed Kate's coat and handed it to her as she turned around.

“Did you call Ethan?” she asked.

“He's next on the list. We'll see you at the hospital.”

“He doesn't have to come. It might be frightening or boring or—I don't know.”

“You're babbling.”

“I know, I'm sorry.”

He kissed her forehead. “It'll be okay. Whatever it is, you caught it early and did the right thing.”

Her eyes shone with tears as she gave him a grateful smile before jogging along in the stretcher's wake.

A
t the hospital, the waiting room quickly grew crowded. Jim beat everyone there, since his restaurant was right in Aspen. Ethan didn't leave Tony's side; he just stood with his hands in his pockets while his frightened gaze darted around. Tom Fenelli came in with his three other sons, pale and mumbling how it should be him and not his wife as he shuffled past Tony to the receptionist. A nurse took him away and soon Kate appeared, her expression calmer. Tony took a deep, relieved breath.

“I thought Mom and Dad needed some time together,” she said to her brothers, who immediately gathered around her.

Walt, who'd been pacing, now frowned. “I knew this festival would be too much work for her.”

Kate blinked as if he'd slapped her.

“Take it easy,” Tony said mildly. “Christina's been having some symptoms for a while, but they were easy for all of us to explain away.”

Walt shot him a look, then seemed to sag. “Yeah, you're right. Sorry, Kate. I'm just—worried.”

Kate stepped into Walt's arms, and they stood there a long time, just holding each other. Then she suddenly looked up. “Oh, God, I didn't even say the important news. She hasn't had a heart attack.”

The relief that went through the family circle was like a breeze ruffling through their clothes, as they all sagged and shuffled and took turns hugging each other.

“What is it? What happened?” called Mrs. Palmer as the three widows and Tony's dad came through the door.

“Everything's okay,” Kate said. “Well, it's not okay, but it's not as bad as it could have been. Apparently, she's been having some occasional discomfort that was actually angina.”

“It's so hard for women to read the signs of impending heart problems,” Mrs. Ludlow said solemnly.

Kate nodded. “They're discussing what to do next right now, but it's looking like they'll perform an angioplasty if the blockage is bad enough.” She glanced at Ethan. “That's when they open up a blocked artery with a little balloon they thread into her heart. They don't even open her chest up. It's pretty miraculous.”

Ethan nodded, eyes wide with confusion, and Kate put her arms around him and just held on. Tony so badly wanted to be in the circle of their arms that it was painful.

This was his whole family, and he knew how lucky he was. Right in front of him were two people that meant the world to him.

And he'd just told Kate he didn't want to be with her.

Was he making a mistake? Or was the mistake imagining he could revive a relationship that had been killed nine years ago?

T
he angioplasty procedure was finished successfully at around midnight. Kate stood with all her brothers, and she wasn't ashamed that the fear of the day was released with tears flowing down her cheeks. Dave stood with Jessica, Jim kept an arm around their little brother Joe, Walt had Diana—and Kate would have given anything to walk into Tony's arms for the comfort only he could give.

But he didn't love her.

She'd watched him through the long evening as he'd played cards to distract Ethan. Oh, she knew Tony now considered her a friend, and she knew she'd always be important to him. But she wanted to be loved like he'd once loved her, the love she'd let her worries and fears and narrow-mindedness and ambition throw away.

But she had her family, these wonderful people she might occasionally fight with—she glanced with fondness at Walt—but the people who'd love her regardless. She had her mom, thank God, for many more years. Kate was determined to find an exercise that she and her mother could enjoy together.

She hadn't realized how much she'd missed being with them on a regular basis until these last few weeks. She wanted that closeness more than anything. She wanted to come home, even if she couldn't be with Tony.

But looking at him from afar, watching him date and maybe get married—these were all things she'd thought not to have to watch from Denver or Vail. She would have to be strong, so strong, to give him up with grace.

And then she looked at Ethan, who watched his uncles celebrate the good news with high fives. She wanted to make sure he felt the same closeness with her as she felt for her own mother. And much as she'd done her best these last nine years and knew he loved her, she wanted more. He was almost fourteen. There were only a few short years until he would go off to college. She didn't want to waste another moment.

And maybe if she was in Valentine, Tony might begin to realize they should be together . . .

As the room grew quiet with the glow of relief and joy, Jim suddenly said, “Well, it looks like I'm going to take back that stand mixer I got Mom for Christmas and replace it with a treadmill.”

They shared happy, relieved laughter.

T
ony watched Kate spend the morning of the band festival at a brisk but calm pace. She oversaw the stage setup in the parking lot, the hanging of the sponsors' banners, the open-sided tents to shelter the food. She sat down for only a moment in the tavern to have a quick coffee break while she still worked, asking about stage techs switching out the bands' instruments. When she heard the front door open, she looked past Tony, and her face brightened with recognition and curiosity.

“Michelle?” she called.

Tony turned around to see a plump African-American woman with close-cropped hair and a cheerful, round face. She was dressed casually in jeans and a big oversize sweater beneath her open coat. Tony looked back at Kate with interest, even as he rose to his feet.

“Kate! So glad I found you this easily.”

Kate stood up. “Tony, this is Michelle Grady, a colleague at Clements, Lebowitz, and Yang.”

Michelle shook hands with Tony. “Nice to meet you. Are you the owner?”

“I am.”

“Well, I think this festival is a great idea. I know a lot of people who are planning to come from Vail.”

“That's quite a trip, thanks.” With Kate running the show, even Denver was probably plastered in posters, just like the storefronts in Valentine Valley.

Michelle grinned at Kate. “It's quite the lineup of bands. When you announced that you were coordinating it on your Facebook page, how could I not come?” Then her voice lowered. “But I do have some business to discuss. Do you have a minute to talk privately?”

Tony stepped back. “You ladies go ahead. I have a beer truck due any moment.”

Tony couldn't stop glancing at Kate and her work colleague, who talked seriously together before breaking for lunch. They were discussing work, which meant that Kate was one step closer to leaving. All this time he'd been telling himself this was for the best, that this was what Kate wanted.

But it wasn't what
he
wanted. He'd been miserable, distracted, and blown away by how much he'd wanted to be the one Kate had leaned on during her mother's illness.

Was he really still in love with her, after all this time?

“Dad, who's that with Mom?”

Startled, Tony turned to find Ethan coming out of the back room. “She's a coworker of your mom's from Vail.”

“Oh, I thought I recognized her. She dropped off some files once or twice at our place.”

Tony nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off the two women.

“Guess it's not that much longer before Mom heads back.”

Tony grunted his response, then realized Ethan was watching him closely. “Something wrong?”

“I don't think you want her to go,” Ethan said slowly.

Tony gave his son his full attention, debating what to say. “It's been nice becoming friends again after all these years. Are you okay with that?”

Ethan sighed. “Mom told you what we talked about Christmas morning, didn't she?”

“No, not everything. We've both been worried about why you've been upset. She thought things were better between you.”

“Yeah. Seeing Grandma sick like that—and seeing Mom go through it kind of by herself, well, I guess I've been thinking about things. She's usually so strong, you know?”

Tony leaned back against the bar. “I know.”

“Maybe she needs somebody. Maybe you asked her to work here because you need her, too. Have you thought about that?”

Tony hid a smile. “Yeah, Ethan, I've been thinking a lot about that. But thinking isn't the same as it being true. I don't know what's going to happen. It might not be happily-ever-after. Sometimes we just have to take the risk. Things have always been good with our families, but maybe they can be great if I stop playing it too safe. Do you know what I mean?”