Dancing in the Dark

Ten long minutes later, he saw her standing in a little clearing that overlooked the valley, her back to him. She had to have heard him coming; the sound of the snow crunching under his workboots was loud in the mountain silence. But she didn’t turn around. She stood with her hands tucked into the pockets of her anorak, her head tilted down, and he thought how lonely she looked, how lonely she’d been all these years.

It broke his heart.

He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, hold her and comfort her and tell her how much he loved her, but there was such fragility in her posture that he was afraid. Instead, he called her name, softly. Then he waited, while time seemed to stand still. At last she turned and faced him. Her eyes were wet and dark, her face pale against the red hood of her coat.

“Seth. Seth, I’m so sorry....”

“No,” he said quickly, “no, sweetheart, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have been with you. You never should have carried this burden alone.”

“I didn’t know about the baby.” Tears streamed down her face. “If I had, I’d never... No medal in the world was that important, Seth. You have to believe that.”

“Sweetheart.” He moved toward her, his eyes locked to hers. “You don’t have to explain. I’d never think—”

“I hadn’t had my period in a month, but that wasn’t unusual. Sometimes, when women athletes train really hard...” She inhaled deeply, then let out a breath that turned to frost on the frigid air. “The nausea didn’t mean anything, either. I’d had that happen before, when I was stressed out. Sometimes...sometimes I couldn’t keep anything down a couple of days before a race, so I didn’t once imagine...”

A sob burst from her throat. Seth covered the few feet that separated them and took her in his arms.

“Wendy.” She felt stiff and cold; her face was tear-stained and bleak. “Sweetheart, please. Listen to me.” He put one hand under her chin, applied gentle pressure until she yielded and lifted her face to his. “If only you’d told me, once you knew. If only I’d had brains enough to see through that brush-off.”

Wendy closed her eyes. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “that horrible note...” She looked up at him. “I couldn’t face you. I thought you’d hate me.”

“Hate you?” Seth gave a broken laugh. “I could never hate you, babe. You’re my life. My heart. My only love. But when you wouldn’t see me, it was like—it was kind of what I’d always expected. That one day you’d say to yourself ‘What did I ever want with a guy like Seth Castleman?’”

Wendy framed his face with her hands. “I wanted a life with Seth Castleman,” she whispered. “That was all I wanted, from the minute we met.”

Seth bent and kissed her mouth, salty with tears. When the kiss ended, he sighed and drew her head to his chest.

“After the first operation, I asked when I’d be able to ski again. They told me I wouldn’t,” Wendy said into his jacket. “I lay there thinking what that would mean.”

“No chance for an Olympic medal. It’s all right. I understand what that meant to you.” He held her shoulders, stepped back just far enough so he could see her face. “I always wanted you to win, honey, but maybe...maybe I was a little jealous, worried that once you had that medal, you’d want to leave Cooper’s Corner and the life we’d planned.”

Wendy shook her head. “You didn’t let me finish,” she said. “I thought, okay, I won’t be able to ski. But I’m alive...and then they said I’d never walk again. I couldn’t believe it. Me, never walk again? ‘But you’re alive,’ my mother kept telling me, and I tried and tried to think that was enough—” Her voice broke. “And then, the next day, they told me the rest, that I’d been pregnant and I’d lost the baby. That was when I knew how meaningless everything else was, that all that had ever mattered was you.” She began to weep. “Oh God, Seth! I wanted to die.”

Seth held her closer. He remembered his flight to Norway, the suffocating fear that he’d have lost Wendy by the time he reached Oslo.

“Don’t,” he said. “Sweetheart, don’t.”

“Everyone said it was a miracle that I’d lived, but when I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a woman who’d lost everything.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You. Our baby. And me, the me that I knew. And of all those things, the only one I could recover was the last. I could get me back.” She gave a sad laugh. “So I made up my mind that I’d walk again, but once I could, I still woke up each morning feeling as empty as the day before.”

“Wendy, please. You don’t have to explain.”

“I have to, Seth. I should have done it long ago.”

He sighed, then stroked her hair as he brought her head to his chest again.

“One day,” she said, her voice low, “I looked in that mirror and thought maybe the real me never existed anywhere but on a ski slope. Maybe that was all that I’d ever been, not a woman, not a girl who loved you, but a skier. Maybe if I could ski again, race again, I’d have a reason to get out of bed in the morning. And then, just as if fate had touched me, I stumbled across an article about Dr. Pommier.”

Seth cupped Wendy’s face. “I love you,” he said clearly. “And I’m with you, all the way. You want this surgery? I’ll be there for you.” His voice softened. “I’ll be there, no matter how it works out.” He smiled into her eyes. “Just say you still love me.”

“You’re my heart, Seth. My soul. I’ll always love you.”

“Wendy. Will you marry me?”

She laughed, even though tears sparkled like diamonds on her lashes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They kissed and held each other while time slipped by. Then, hand in hand, they walked back to where they’d parked.

“I want to tell your folks,” Seth said.

Wendy nodded. “Yes.”

“But we should stop at Twin Oaks first.” He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and smiled. It was a stiff smile, because he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t afraid of what could happen to this woman he loved with all his heart when Pommier operated on her, but it was her life and her choice to make. “The doc’s probably still trying to figure out what happened.”

“Well, we’ll just have to tell him.” Wendy put her hands on Seth’s chest. “I’ve decided against the surgery.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that for my sake. Whatever you have to do—”

“Exactly.” She smiled. “And I don’t have to race to be happy. All I need is you and the life we’ll make together.”

“The children we’ll have,” Seth said, smiling back.

“The stories I’ll tell them.” She laughed. “Heck, the stories I’ll write.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “You really think I can do that?”

“I know you can.”

Wendy grabbed Seth’s collar and dragged his mouth down to hers. “Then there’s only one thing left to ask you.”

“Ask me anything. You want the moon? The stars?” He grinned. “A house on the top of Sawtooth Mountain? You can have ’em all.”

“I have the moon and the stars.” She kissed him. “And, thanks t

o a very fine carpenter, I have that house on Sawtooth Mountain, too. I need only one more thing from you, Seth Castleman.” Her lips curved against his. “Will you take me skiing tomorrow?”

Seth tried to answer but he couldn’t. There was a lump in his throat. Instead, he gathered Wendy close and kissed her.

The sky had cleared and the moon and stars shone down brightly on the town by the time they reached Twin Oaks. Arms around each other, they went into the B and B. A fire blazed cheerfully in the massive fireplace. Rod Pommier was sitting in front of the hearth. When he saw Seth and Wendy, he rose to his feet.

“Doctor,” Wendy said, “I’m sorry I ran off.”

“No need to apologize, Miss Monroe.”

“Please, call me Wendy.” She took a deep breath. “I want to thank you for your time, Doctor.”

“Rod.”

“Rod. Thank you—but I’ve decided not to have that operation.”

The doctor looked from Wendy’s smiling face to Seth’s. “Why do I get the feeling congratulations are in order?”

Seth’s smile became a grin. “Must be those Aunt Agatha genes kicking in.”

Wendy furrowed her brow. “Who’s Aunt Agatha?”

Both men laughed. “A mutual friend we’ll have to be sure to invite to the wedding,” Seth said, and hugged her close.

“Who’s a mutual friend?” Clint asked as he joined the group.

“You are.” Seth held out his hand. “If it weren’t for you and the twin terrors, Wendy and I might not be announcing our engagement.”

A slow grin spread across Clint’s face. “Hey. That’s great.” He shook Seth’s hand, kissed Wendy’s cheek. “That’s terrific, you guys. Congratulations.” He looked up, spotted Maureen coming into the gathering room from the door that led to the back of the house. “Sis? Want to hear some good news?”

Maureen hesitated. She had some news herself, but she wasn’t sure it was good. She’d gone out to the woodshed a few minutes ago. Clint had asked her not to do that anymore, but a guest wanted firewood in a hurry and Maureen couldn’t see hunting up her brother for something so simple.