Born in a Small Town
Page 32

The two men left half an hour later, their purpose accomplished. They wanted Kevin to design the program, become chairman of the department, consult on hiring colleagues. They wanted him to become tenured, instead of temporary.
They wanted to tie him down.
After their departure, he automatically graded another paper. “B—competent but could have been more thoughtful. See comments.” It had taken all his concentration to make it through one five-page paper. He couldn’t face another. Setting down his pen, he shoved back his chair.
He’d had only morning classes today; it was still barely one o’clock. Kevin felt a sudden desperate need to be out-of-doors. The walls were closing in.
Within an hour he left his vehicle at the trailhead to Puma Lake, swung a day pack over his shoulder and strode past the wooden sign that said “Puma Lake 2.3 miles.” A good eight inches of snow had fallen up here this past week, but eager cross-country skiers, snowshoers and hikers had worn the snow from the trail. It climbed sharply between tall stands of ponderosa pines, then dropped over a ridge toward the lake, a chilly blue-gray under snow-heavy skies. His stride was that of a man accustomed to covering miles in a day. His breath came out in clouds, his arms swung freely.
As always, his thoughts untangled out here in the wilderness and solitude. Okay, he was being pushed to make a decision sooner than he’d expected to have to, but was that a bad thing? He should feel flattered that, after only one quarter of classes, feedback should be so good on his teaching. He had to work; he was finding he was good at this. So why not?
Now he had a solid future to offer Melanie, too. The other night, as she’d clutched that turtleneck to her breasts and stared at him with huge panicky eyes, he’d almost asked her to marry him. But what could he say? I don’t know where I’ll be next year, but I want you with me? Romantic, but not what she wanted to hear right now.
It would mean resigning from the National Park Service once and for all. Knowing he was on a leave of absence only had felt like a safety valve. He could recuperate, try a new life but know his old one was still open to him. He imagined himself sitting down to write that letter of resignation. Visiting one of the national parks that had been his old stomping grounds, driving in and paying his fee like all the tourists in their RVs, staying on the marked paths, seeing old friends and having nothing to say.
Reaching the lakeshore, he paused and listened to the silence. How often would he find himself alone in a place like this again? Puma Lake would be surrounded by families picnicking most of the year. How often would he have the time to seek solitude?
Frowning, he set out again with his ground-eating stride to circle the small lake. He actually felt short of breath, which irritated him. He still hadn’t recovered, had been too sedentary. He needed to add some miles to his daily run. Push himself.
Maybe it was too soon to make a decision. Sure, Melanie wanted to stay in Elk Springs, but if she loved him, she would go if that’s where his heart led, wouldn’t she? He could see how the school year went, how hemmed in and confined he felt.
He could ask Melanie to marry him and find out whether she had balked the other night because of fear about who he was—or because she didn’t really love him.
Kevin drew a deep cold breath and blew it out in a frigid stream. His lungs seemed to expand now that he’d let himself off the hook. Not that long ago he’d been lying in a hospital bed. Melanie had accused him of doubting his own motives. Maybe she was right; maybe she wasn’t.
He’d given himself a year to decide what he wanted for the future. Take it, he told himself. Be sure.
WHEN HE CALLED Melanie that night, he got only her answering machine. Kevin hung up without leaving a message. He wondered if she was screening her calls because she didn’t want to hear from him, or whether she wasn’t home. The idea that she might have gone out with another man made him grind his teeth.
Dammit, this was the trouble with dating a single mother. He couldn’t come by in the evening for a serious talk—Angie would be around. Okay, how about after his last class tomorrow? No, he had several students scheduled for appointments, and by the time he was done with them, Angie would be home from school. Thursday at Angie’s soccer practice. Hell, they’d decided not to hold practice this week, the weather was getting so cold. Sunday was the last game of the season.
He still hadn’t made up his mind how to approach Melanie when fate intervened the next day. He was crossing the quad when he heard her name mentioned by a pair of coeds going in the opposite direction.
“…speaker today. Melanie Parker. She’s bringing historical costumes. She’s supposed to be really entertaining.”
Kevin spun around and trailed the girls. “Excuse me,” he said.
They turned to stare at him.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Melanie Parker is speaking on campus today?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s open.” The coed flushed.
“I guess you’re not a student, are you?”
“No, I’m an instructor here.”
“Well, she’s talking to my class.”
“And which class would that be?” He spoke with eroding patience.
“Oh. World History 102.”
He extracted the remaining details from her. Time, building, classroom. He’d have to cancel one meeting, but to hell with it. Jason Bernard was trying to plea-bargain for a higher grade than he’d earned last quarter, but Kevin had already turned in his grades, and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have changed Jason’s.
At two o’clock, he strolled into the back of one of the auditorium-style classrooms, where the larger survey classes were held. Students were still settling into seats and whispering. Up front, Melanie was laying out garments, presumably so that she could reach them easily later. The moment he saw her, he felt pleasure and relief and frustration. Why did this one woman exert such a pull?
Her hands were slim, quick-moving, competent, her neck long and graceful. Her every move was sure, contained; she didn’t toss her hair or laugh or fidget when nervous. She had a quality of…stillness, or perhaps, serenity.
Solved, Kevin thought wryly: the mystery of why she attracted him so greatly. In her very being, Melanie possessed the one quality he had spent his life seeking.
He made his way down the side of the auditorium until he found a pillar where he could lean inconspicuously but was close enough to see and hear her well.
She never did spot him as she gave a forty-five-minute presentation that held the students enthralled. Her point, not surprisingly, was that fashion reflected both culture and life on a nitty-gritty level. She stripped to a hideous undergarment, causing a stir in the auditorium, and had two girls from the front row manhandle her into a corset and tie it tightly enough to create the wisp of a waist Victorians sought. Then she showed how the corset and hoops affected her mobility, how, in essence, the garments forced her to behave with the propriety considered the ideal. The fingerless gloves often seen in photos were to keep hands warm in inadequately heated houses, she told them, describing how the lower classes who did have to work dressed.
Kevin found her talk as fascinating as the students apparently did. Creating Halloween costumes was the least of her skills, he saw. He imagined her taking her show on the road, perhaps filming educational videos, creating similar presentations on ancient Greece or Egypt or the Druids. It wouldn’t matter so much then if she had a home base….
Kevin was honest enough with himself to recognize when he was being self-serving. Yeah, if she agreed to marry him and he went back to the Park Service or took up another essentially nomadic career, he and she could talk about ways she could refocus what she did. But don’t kid yourself, he thought grimly; Melanie likes her life here. She was not going to jump at the idea of doing presentations around the country and announce that really she wanted to sell her house and hit the road.
He waited until the professor’s offer to help her pack up had been refused, until the last students were exiting the auditorium. Then he stepped forward.
“You were great.”
Melanie started, a pair of lace fingerless gloves dropping from her hands. “Oh! You were here?”
He couldn’t tell if she was happy to see him or dismayed. “Saw the whole performance.”
Pink suffusing her cheeks, she bent her head and went back to packing the Victorian garments into suitcases. “Do you think the students got anything out of it?”
“You brought history alive,” Kevin said, meaning it. “They learned more today than they will the rest of the quarter.”
She stole a glance at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“I wanted to talk to you. To apologize.”
“Apologize?” Melanie didn’t look up this time.
“For what?”
“For not being honest.” He moved restlessly, not liking the feeling of being in the wrong. “Without thinking it through, I knew you preferred the idea of my being settled here in Elk Springs, being a college instructor, instead of on temporary leave from the Park Service. So…there were things I didn’t say.”
She carefully folded a black gown. “That’s what you’re on? Temporary leave?”
Inwardly he cursed; he hadn’t meant to tell her that way. Hadn’t meant to imply that he was still considering going back.
“No. I mean, yes, but only in the bureaucratic sense. I didn’t submit my resignation for all the reasons you mentioned the other night. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t making the decision impulsively. I gave myself a year to think about the future.”
“And this is that year.”
“Yeah. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, certainly not right away.”
“Someone like me?” She sounded distinctly cool.
Hell, he was going about this all wrong. “I didn’t expect to fall in love.”
She stopped what she was doing at last and met his eyes. “Are you so sure that’s what you’ve done?”
Anger sparked. “Have I given you that much reason to doubt me?”
“No,” Melanie said, “of course not. You’ve been nice to Angie.”
A door at the top of the auditorium opened. Kevin cast a frustrated glance up, but no one had come in.
Feeling pressured, he forged on. “I want you to marry me. Will you?”
“Oh, Kevin.” Terrible sadness sounded in her voice. “I wish you hadn’t asked. Not now.”
“Why not?” His tone was aggressive. Talons of fear tore at his chest from the inside.
“You know why. I swore I’d raise Angie here in Elk Springs, give her the life I didn’t have. I married someone once who wasn’t…wasn’t settled. How can I make the same mistake again, just because I’m…” She stopped.
“Because you’re what?”
“Falling in love,” she said in a low voice.
Relief didn’t join his other emotions. He knew better. Instead, he swore. “You love me, I love you, but you won’t marry me.”