Authors: Kat Attalla
Mile after mile of open road passed her by. She couldn't even appreciate the sweet scent of spring honeysuckle for too long. Her mind remained mired in the past. She would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed the attention in the beginning. The money seduced her and the applause excited her.
After the initial glamour wore off, her life became an unnatural existence. Those intimate feelings of seduction and excitement were never meant to be experienced alone. They only had meaning when shared with another person.
She could be egotistical and self-indulgent on the stage. That was the nature of the business. For her own sanity, she needed to find some kind of normalcy again in the rest of her life. She had tried once before, with tragic results.
She blamed her mother for her loss, but she had to share in some of the guilt. Her gypsy life-style had been as much to blame as her mother's twisted declaration of it. Her mother's lies were based in truth. That was enough for a judge to declare Kate an inappropriate candidate to adopt Kelly, the eight-year-old foster child who had lived with her for over a year. The state's final decision: Kelly's interests would best be served by returning her to her natural mother.
"Kelly, I'm so sorry," she whispered to the falling darkness of the sky. Kate could see her face as if it were yesterday. Kelly's huge eyes filled with terror, still haunted her three years later. The pain. The fear. And finally, the betrayal.
She‘d been driving for close to sixteen hours, and the exhaustion took a toll on her. Unsure how much longer she could last without having an emotional breakdown, Kate pulled off the highway and found a motel room for the night.
As it had during so many other nights in the past three years, sleep eluded her. The pain cut too deep, and the wounds had never healed. She needed to find some way to work it out of her system. She'd managed to bury the pain, but it had never been laid to rest.
* * * *
Kate pulled into a vacant lot and opened up the classified ads. She'd been in eastern New Mexico for three days, waffling back and forth between finding an apartment and moving on. The cities had no appeal for her. She needed the simple charm and quiet peace of rural America. She needed to let go, and where better than here, in "The Land of Enchantment"?
She scanned the small real estate section of the local paper. The farming community didn't have many apartments to rent; however, if she ever needed livestock, she knew where to look. Discouraged, she almost gave up when a small ad, nestled in between two tractors for sale, caught her eye.
FURNISHED HOUSE FOR RENT.
She sank back into the plush upholstery of the bucket seat and sighed. Years as an apartment dweller made the thought of a house irresistible. She pictured a swing on the front porch where she could watch the sunset. With the landlord's permission, she could grow a small garden. The minute she started building a fantasy world around some unseen house, she knew she would take it.
The ad contained no phone number, but the directions seemed easy enough. She glanced at her watch. By six o'clock most normal people were home from work, she thought. Someone should be available to show her the house. With renewed enthusiasm, she started the car. For the first time, Kate had a chance at a real life. As she passed each landmark, her excitement began to rise. Finally she was in control.
Turn right at the junction of 542 and go two miles.
She clocked the distance off on her odometer. The horizon gave way to a silhouette of buildings. As she got closer, the landscape became more defined and she focused on the two farmhouses in the middle of a working farm. She parked next to a battered pickup truck and stepped out of the car.
The clean, crisp April air filled her lungs. She paused for a moment to take in her new surroundings. In a barren field beyond the barn she saw a young girl walking alone. Her heart skipped a beat. Did the child look like Kelly or had she only imagined a similarity? Your mind is playing tricks on you, she convinced herself. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her leather jacket and headed toward the house with the FOR RENT sign in front.
"Can I help you, ma'am?"
The deep male voice startled her and she whirled around. Her heart pounded. So much for her theory of being in control. She exhaled slowly and smiled at the man who might be her new landlord.
A handsome man, in his mid-thirties, she guessed, with smiling blue eyes that conveyed a warm welcome. A layer of grime covered his jeans and flannel shirt. Back in New York, that might have put her off, but since he'd come from the direction of the barn, it seemed perfectly natural.
"I've come about the ad in the paper for the house for rent."
He shook his head in confusion. He looked quickly at her car and back to her. "Are you serious?"
"Why? Has it already been rented?"
"No. No." He wiped a hand across the leg of his jeans before offering it to her. "Trevor Callahan."
"Kate Costello," she replied, and shook his hand. "May I see the inside?"
She got the impression he didn't believe her. He kept glancing around as if he expected the crew of Candid Camera to jump out from behind a tree.
"Let me get changed first. We just had it redone, and I don't want to track dirt all over." Turning frequently, he led her in the direction of the larger house. Either he suffered from paranoia or his friends had played one too many practical jokes on him.
As he held the door open for her, she paused on the front step. "I'll wait here."
"It's cold out. Wait in the living room. I'll only be a couple of minutes."
Too many years in New York had made her wary.
He appeared neither annoyed nor surprised by her hesitation. "If you're afraid of me, ma'am, there isn't much point in showing the house. You'd make yourself sick knowing I have a key." She nodded and entered. "Have a seat. I'll be right back."
He disappeared down a hall, leaving her alone in the large family room. None of the furnishings matched, but the well-kept room had a lived-in feeling. This wasn't a house, but a home, and it filled her with a sense of security.
A crackling fire in the fireplace beckoned her to its warmth. The scent of burning pine tickled her nostrils. She stood in front of the hearth and curiously eyed the small knickknacks on the mantel above. An old baseball rested against a small trophy. A display of blue ribbons stood out proudly from a cork base. A framed picture of the child she'd seen earlier caught her eye, and she lifted it for closer inspection.
"What do you think you're doing?"
She replaced the small frame to the mantel and slid her hands into her pockets. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
How had he returned so quickly? He couldn't have been gone more than two minutes, yet he had managed to shower and change his clothes. His wet blond hair, combed back off his forehead, drew her full attention to the angry arch of his eyebrow. What had happened to the encouraging smile he'd given her just moments ago? The man scowled at her as if she were some kind of thief robbing the family heirlooms. "I didn't expect you back so soon."
"Apparently," he said insolently.
"I only wanted to look at it." As if she needed to steal a small, worthless trinket!
He took a step forward, blocking the only exit from the room. "Do you always break into people's houses just to look at their belongings?"
Break into a house? He had told her to come inside. She would have been perfectly happy, and infinitely safer, remaining outside. "If you'll step out of my way, I'll leave, Mr. Callahan."
As she tried to pass, he reached for her wrist. "How do you know my name?"
Kate said a silent prayer for her safety. "You told me it less than five minutes ago." She twisted her arm in a vain attempt to free it from his hold. "Look. If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny. Just let me leave."
"Lady, you're not going anywhere until you tell me what you're doing here."
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. Why hadn't she followed her instincts and remained outside? "I came to ... see the house."
That only seemed to infuriate him further. His face turned so hard, it could have been chiseled out of stone. "I was told that I had another month before you vultures started coming around."
Vultures? He had advertised the house in the paper. The man had to be certifiably crazy!
The drumming of her rapid heartbeat deafened her to his further comments. She yanked her hand with all her strength, pulling free. He didn't reach for her, but she didn't take any chances.
Keeping a distrustful eye on him, she inched backwards. When she felt less threatened, she straightened. Two hands grabbed her waist as she bumped into a tall frame behind her. Her piercing shriek echoed through the house. The room began to spin. The two arms locked around her kept her upright when her legs buckled beneath her.
"Kate? Kate?" She heard her name being called from far away. "What did you do to her?" yelled the man who held her.
"Who the hell is she?"
Kate struggled against the arms that encircled her. She felt herself being gently lowered into an old easy chair, but the fingers on her shoulders tightened when she tried to scramble out. "Relax for a minute, Kate. No one's gonna hurt you."
She slumped over, praying she wouldn't faint. When would she learn not to trust strangers, no matter how harmless they looked? She had to get herself up and out of there as soon as possible.
When her strength returned, she raised her head slowly. She saw two sets of boots, two sets of strong legs, two six-foot-plus, well-built bodies, and two identical faces staring at her as if she'd lost her mind. She rubbed her eyes and tried to get a clear focus, but her double vision remained. For one frightening moment she thought she had lost her mind.
Her train of thought finally caught up with her vision. Her parallel images wore different clothes and expressions. A last shudder of fear rocked her before she managed to speak. "You're twins!"
Very brilliant. Like they didn't already know that, she mocked herself. She had trouble making intelligent conversation when her pulse raced like a metronome at top speed. Her embarrassment sent the blood rushing to her face.
"Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Whiskey?" Trevor offered.
She shook her head and pulled herself up to her feet. She clutched the back of the chair to support her shaking legs. "No. If you don't mind, I'll just go now, please." Was that her voice fading out?
"Don't you want to see the house?"
The house! She had forgotten her purpose for being there.
"What's going on?" Trevor's twin demanded.
"She's come about the ad in the paper, Jake." Trevor shot a pleading glare to his furious brother.
Jake ran a sweeping gaze along the length of her body, and then turned his head from side to side. "No. No women. I thought you put that in the ad."
Kate didn't know what came over her. Until that moment, she would have walked away without a second thought. She had no wish to rent from such an obnoxious boor, yet she found herself saying, "That's sex discrimination and it’s against the law, Mr. Callahan."
His lip curled back in a wry grin. "I don't discriminate against sex. I happen to be in favor of it."
She had no doubt that he twisted her words to throw her off balance. "Very clever. That doesn't change the fact that unless you have a deposit from someone else, you are required to show me the house and allow me to decide if I'd be interested or not."
"That is a private residence. I don't have to do anything, ma'am."
* * * *
Jake balled his fingers into fists. Who does she think she is? She spoke with a distinct New York accent. Her German luxury car, visible from the front window, cost more than the bank note on his farm. Only a spoiled princess with an attitude would insist on staying in a place where she wasn't welcome. He didn't need that kind of woman living next door to him.
Trevor stepped forward and handed Kate the key. "You go have a look while I speak with my brother."
"Thank you. I will." She slipped the key in her jacket pocket and smiled on her way out the door.
"What's the matter with you?" Trevor yelled. "That is the first and only answer we've gotten on that ad in three weeks."
"No women, Trevor. You're askin' for trouble. Look at her," Jake said.