Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Dana
“Kurt, please call me.”
Dana slowly slipped her cell back into her pocket. He hadn’t answered when she’d called earlier this morning nor when she’d come to his room to try to find him. Now she stood outside his door, opening and closing her fingers to tamp down the irritation that wanted to rise inside her.
He’s doing this to get back at me. For what I did yesterday.
Which she realized was ironic to say, but what he was doing right now felt more spiteful than calculated. She’d been underground most of the time he’d been trying to reach her, and while her reasons for being there were part of why he was so angry with her currently, punishing her like this was… childish.
Pot meet kettle.
She groaned. Okay, her conscience could harp at her all it wanted, but there was a difference between what she’d done and what Kurt was doing now. Rather than dwell on the semantics of it, though, she was going to follow his example: she was going to find out where he’d gone.
Dana strode from the hallway and out into the main building’s lobby. It was early, but a few people were about, either making their way to the café or the cafeteria, plus several were seated around the enormous fireplace, talking quietly. Dana scanned the area, but there was no sign of Kurt, nor could she find him when she glanced into either breakfast location. The sunrise had broken over the mountains to the east, but when she stepped outside, it was still chilly, and she pulled up the collar of her jacket a little tighter.
Which way?
That was the question. If Kurt had come out here, which way had he gone? Rawhide Ranch had paths running all over the place, from building to building, as they’d discovered the other day, but which one had he taken?
Assuming he took one at all. Assuming he’s not in his room, ignoring you. Or…
Gone.
No. Dana might fear what Kurt had threatened, might worry that it wasn’t merely a threat born out of his current frustration, but she absolutely couldn’t believe for a second that he’d abandon her. That… that wasn’t something she could ever see him doing.
No, he was here. The question was… where?
The mine. The words came through without thought, and before she realized it, her legs were carrying her that direction. Why he’d go back there made no sense, but that’s where she headed, and it was as good a direction as any at this point.
The gravel path wove among pines and patches of rich earth, interspersed here and there with an occasional bench. That’s where she found him, seated in a small turnout beyond where the path branched at a small sign that said, “ Employee Housing” .
“There you are.”
Kurt looked up, a wan smile creasing his face. “Hey.”
“What are you doing out here?” Dana asked as she moved to sit beside him.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead stared off toward the mountains. Turning to look where he was, she found the sun was up enough to cast dappled bands of light against the shag of the pines, the mountainside scored with dark swathes in the vees of the canyons where light hadn’t quite reached yet.
“Do you remember when we worked that location in Norway?” he asked after a long moment, breaking the quiet that lay between them.
She scrunched her brow, thinking back. “Kirkenes?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “There.”
“What about it?”
He leaned against the back of the bench. “Remember the hike we took up that canyon to the top of the hill? Where you were looking for that trace you’d mapped out.”
She sighed. “First of all, that wasn’t a hill, it was a mountain,” she said. “Second of all, we were looking for a trace, not just me.”
“It was beautiful that day,” he said wistfully. “Not too cold, not too warm, with just enough breeze to make it brisk. I know we ”—he glanced at her pointedly—“were supposed to be looking for the indication, but I kept looking at the landscape around us. The crystalline blue of a sky that didn’t seem real, how green and alive everything was, like something out of one of those coffee table photobooks you look at and swear the photographer must have manipulated every shot. I can see every detail in my head, and I remember one thing more than anything else…” He looked over at her. “You.”
“Kurt…” His name came out as a breath, almost a whisper.
He pointed to the mountains. “I was sitting here thinking about that day. I’ll always remember it. I’ve had some incredible experiences with you, Dana, but that day… that was the day I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“How I felt about you,” he said quietly .
“How you felt about me?”
“Mmhmm.”
Anxiety prickled at her nerves. “Kurt, what are you trying to say?” she asked softly. “Are you trying to tell me… you’re in love with me?”
He let out a strangled laugh. “Oh my God, Dana. Of course I love you. How could I not love you after everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve shared? But…”
“But?”
“But I’m not in love with you. You… you make that impossible.”
What? Impossible?
Her anxiety took a sudden hard left. She started to open her mouth to protest, but he raised his hand, cutting her off.
“Listen, we’ve both made it clear what we’ve wanted out of this relationship. And despite what you may be thinking right now, I’m not trying to pressure you to be in a relationship relationship with me. That’s not what this is about.”
Now the anxiety which had veered to affront bloomed into confusion. Today wasn’t the first time she’d wondered if Kurt was falling in love with her, if only because it was a natural thing to consider given how long they’d been together. It was also a question that had been hovering in the back of her own mind about him. But for him to state unequivocally he couldn’t be in love with her because she made that impossible…
Impossible? Bullshit!
Except… was it?
She shook off the thought as Kurt spoke.
“The relationship we do have—the one I remember from Norway and a hundred other moments and places and times—that’s what this is about. I can’t keep holding on to the good parts of all those memories when all I can think about is losing the thousand more we haven’t had yet because you won’t be there to have them. You’ll be gone, and all I’ll ever be able to think about is I didn’t do enough to prevent it from happening.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Maybe. Doesn’t stop it from being true, though. I told you yesterday I can’t keep doing this, finding you’ve gone off and done something you shouldn’t have because you’re so goddamn convinced of your invulnerability. That you’re always gonna come out on top in the end, even if you get hurt in the process.”
“Because I always have,” she insisted passionately.
“Have. That’s the key word right there. But what happens, Dana, when ‘have’ becomes ‘didn’t’? Because that’s all I can keep thinking about.”
“I thought you trusted me?”
“Oh my God…” He shook his head slowly. “When I was a kid and got my learner’s permit, I told my dad I wanted to drive all by myself. He told me no and I said the exact same thing you just did— ‘I thought you trusted me ’. I’m gonna tell you what he told me: it’s not you I don’t trust. It’s everything and everyone else around you that you have no control over I don’t. Like the edge of a mineshaft caving in, or hundred-year-old crumbled timbering.”
For a minute they both sat as the wind that shushshushshushed through the pine boughs tried to offer peace where there was none.
“This is so not fair to do to me,” she blurted out, and as soon as the words came, she wanted to bite them back. It was too late, though. She knew exactly how he was going to respond, and worse, she knew he wouldn’t be wrong.
“So not fair to you, Dana? What about me? Is this situation fair to me? Is it fair to keep leaving me in limbo after every incident wondering if maybe next time won’t be the last?”
“So, what, is this it between us? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“No!” he shot back in exasperation. “I’m not saying that in the way you’re trying to make it sound.”
“Then what is it, Kurt? What is it ?”
“I… I want to try something, if you’re willing.”
“And what would that be?” He was doing it again, trying to protect her from something he feared she wasn’t going to like. The thing was, though, this time he might be right. The direction this conversation was going made her… uneasy. Uncomfortable. Anxious.
Worried in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront.
He twisted, leaning forward. “I want you to come to a compromise with me on some simple rules. And, if you fail to adhere to those rules, I want you to agree to allow me to discipline you.”
Dana blinked her eyes. “Are you… are you being serious right now?”
“I am.”
She slumped back against the bench. “ Ooookaaay … so what the hell does any of that mean?” she asked, spreading her hands.
“To be honest, I’m still working that part out. I’m not exactly sure what it’s going to fully entail, but…”
“But?”
“I need your buy-in. Your agreement to at least try.”
“Try… what?” she asked, failing to hide her irritation th is time. “Again, this is so not fair. How can you expect me to agree to something when all you’ve given me is a vague request to go off of!”
“I know,” he conceded, his shoulders slumping a little. “I understand where you’re coming from. I need to work this out, but it’s pointless to try if your answer will be no, no matter what I say.”
“Jesus, Kurt. I don’t think I deserve that. I’ve always listened to you.”
“Listened, yes, but sometimes conveniently forgotten what I’ve requested, or worse, willfully ignored.”
Ouch.
As much as she wanted to deny what he’d said, the truth was, she couldn’t. “Okay, sure, maybe sometimes, but I still listened.”
“But just listening isn’t enough anymore, Dana. That’s the problem.”
A portent-laden pause filled in the air between them.
“So... where does that leave us?” she asked quietly.
Kurt let out a soft sigh. “I need a little time to work this through, okay? To try and suss out what I think will work for us both.” He looked into her eyes. “Can you give me that?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
Dana gazed into the distance, trying to find anything in the beauty of the landscape surrounding her that would ease the bony fingers of apprehension that clutched at her. And if what she and Kurt were talking about right now wasn’t enough, another concern rose to scratch a nail against her nerves.
“Have you… have you spoken to Gary?”
He narrowed his eyes. “No. Why would I?”
“Well, you’re clearly pretty upset. If there was ever an opportunity for you to rub my nose in it and say ‘told you so’…”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I’d never do that to you. Even as upset as I am right now, I wouldn’t do that.”
She leaned over to hug him for a long moment. Eventually, he brought his arm up and held her gently by the shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, pulling back.
He gave her a tight smile, but there was little comfort in it. Everything about him—his posture, the weariness in his eyes, the tone of his voice—it all reinforced her earlier suspicion she’d pushed him too far. If there was a tiny silver lining in any of this, it was that he hadn’t simply given up and walked away. He was still here, still talking to her. And he was talking of a plan, and that was at least a starting point.
“So…” she began hopefully, “dinner tonight?”
“Maybe.”
Maybe. Why did that single word send a snake of fear slithering through her more than anything else he’d just said?
“Okay. Do you… do you want to be alone right now?”
“Yes. If you don’t mind.”
Yes, I do mind. I want to talk this out, Kurt. I want to get past this, forget it, go back to the way things were. Why do things have to be different now? Why can’t we go back to what we were before and have been for seven years? Why?
She knew the answer. He’d told her. But accepting that meant accepting she needed to compromise, and…
Patience and compromise. Two things she had an incredibly difficult time doing.
But with discipline…
“I’m going to go now,” she said quietly, getting up .
He simply nodded.
She stood staring down at him for a second, fighting every instinct to move back, to take him in her arms, hope for him to come around and hold her and comfort her the way he’d done so many times in the past. To be there for her the way he’d always been. When she’d needed it but hadn’t recognized how much she had.
Friends with benefits.
Benefits. He’d certainly provided that in ways far beyond the bedroom and the dungeons. And as she walked away, the thought that tightened her throat was a simple one.
It was all starting to slip away.