Love Is a Battlefield (8 page)

Kristy finished explaining the nine steps involved in loading and firing a Civil War musket and was about to demonstrate how to shoot the weapon when she noticed the newest member of her tour group.

Robert Aaron grinned at her from the back row and sheepishly waved his hand in greeting.

Great. He obviously had a major problem with the concept of time. He was only, what? Twenty hours late?

He'd stood her up with no explanation, and now he showed up at work. Right in the middle of a ranger program, with her dressed as a Civil War soldier. In head-to-toe wool, no less. A floppy hat and black boots, both about two sizes too big, completed her look. There was no way to look attractive dressed all in wool, weighted down with lots of equipment, wearing a large hat, and firing a musket. It wasn't feminine. Frankly, it was kind of stinky. And it was definitely not the situation she wanted Robert to see her in. Why confirm his second thoughts?

“Ready.” she pulled back the hammer. “Aim.” she lifted the gun to her shoulder.

Too bad she didn't get to pick an audience member as a target.

“Fire.” she pulled the trigger, and as the shot went off, smoke blew back in her face. She coughed and tried to regain some composure. She had to finish this little talk even if Robert was in the audience.

“This is how the average soldier would've fired a gun during the Civil War,” Kristy explained. “Are there any questions?”
Please don't let there be questions.

“Yeah, I have a question.” A big guy leered at her and punched his buddy in the arm. “Would the average soldier have worn red nail polish?” The rest of the audience, including Robert, tittered with laughter. At least Mason, taking notes from the front row, had the decency to shoot Kristy a sympathetic look.

Oops. I knew there was something I forgot to do last night.
Her still-polished nails were yet another humiliation to put at Robert's feet.

“No, sir. Red nail polish wasn't standard procedure,” she said with as much of a smile as she could muster, wishing it would be appropriate to comment on his mullet and tank top combo. But she had to be nice. Never mind those manners her mother had instilled. In this case, it was her job. Sometimes it stunk to be paid by taxpayers.

“If there are no other questions, this concludes the demonstration. Please have a great day and enjoy your park.” Kristy leaned her rifle against the tree and put the bayonet back in the holster on her belt. So glamorous. Robert must be kicking himself for not showing up last night.

He watched as she posed for photos with some of the visitors. These photo ops were as close as she would ever get to being a rock star, and normally she enjoyed them, but not today.

Finally, she was free.

What should someone wearing wool and carrying a firearm say to the guy who had stood her up? A few choice phrases came to her mind. But as a Christian, she'd better not say any of them.

“Hi, Robert.”
Jerk. S
he took off the floppy brown hat and fanned herself with it.

“Hey.” He smiled and motioned toward the musket. “That was some demonstration.” Even through her anger, she had to admit he was pretty cute in his green polo and khaki shorts. She'd always been a sucker for the preppy look.

“Thanks.”
Where's the apology? Come on, be a man and give me a lame excuse.

“Is that uniform hot?”

No, Sherlock. What makes you think an all-wool uniform in the summertime is hot?

“It's a little warm.” Kristy gripped her musket tightly. All the small talk was making her crazy. “Why, exactly, are you here?”

Robert's eyebrows shot up and his eyes grew wide. “I just thought I'd come see where you work.” He brushed his fingers through his thick brown hair. “Ever since you told me you were a ranger, I've been meaning to come out.”

Was he for real? Where was the apology? Kristy didn't want to be the one to bring it up, but he wasn't leaving her much of a choice. “So where were you last night?” she tried to sound casual, but even she could hear the words drip with irritation.

Unfortunately, Robert didn't seem to know what she was talking about.
Is he an actor on the side?

“Last night?” He continued to look puzzled. “What was last night?”

Uh-oh. The conversation wasn't going quite like she thought it would.

“You know. Dinner at the new seafood restaurant. Six thirty.” no way was he seriously acting as if he forgot.

“Was there some kind of singles' thing there? I must not have gotten the invitation.” He seemed sincere.

What's going on here? “
no. Not a singles' thing.” Kristy could feel her face getting red. “You called me and asked me out to dinner. And you never showed up.” There. She'd made her accusation.

“What?” Robert looked like someone had punched him in the stomach.

A few more minutes and I might.

“Kristy, I'm sorry, but I didn't call you.”

She gripped the musket tighter to keep from dropping it. What? Was he seriously trying to act like she was crazy and had made the whole thing up? What did she say now? What if he was suffering from short-term memory loss?

“Um. Yes. You did. You called me Monday night.” Kristy remembered it well, because it had been Memorial Day. And the same night Mark had called.

“Monday night I wasn't in town. I was at a conference for work.” Robert eyed her suspiciously.

“Well, somebody called me from your number and asked me out. Your name came up on my caller ID.” so there.

“Wait a minute.” Robert's eyes got wider. “My brother, Zach, was at my house that night. I think he and a couple of his buddies were over there watching movies. He'd been out to Shiloh during the day, but Mom let them hang out at my house that night while she got groceries.”

It all began to click in Kristy's head. Zach must've set her up. Was this his idea of a funny prank? And after she'd been nice and offered him water if he was ever riding his bike near her house.

“So you think Zach called me and pretended to be you?” Heat surged into Kristy's face. She'd accepted a fake date. And even worse, Robert knew that if he had asked, she would've said yes. Which meant he mistakenly thought she was interested in him.

“Come to think of it, there was a phone book out when I got back.” Robert was clearly horrified. “I hope he didn't call and ask anyone else out.”

Kristy hoped not, too. Because that would mean someone else felt as horrible as she did. And she wouldn't wish that on anyone. Except maybe Zach.

Kristy fumbled with her front door as hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. After the embarrassing encounter with Robert, she'd barely been able to keep it together. For some reason, the whole thing with Robert was causing her to relive the demise of her relationship with Mark. Finally, she'd left work early with a headache. The twins were getting pretty good at working the front desk, so she didn't think she'd be missed too much.

Sam greeted her with a bark, and she opened the back door to let him in the fence. She didn't want any witnesses to what she was about to do. Even canine ones. She was perfectly aware that when she was tempted to act on this crazy impulse, she was supposed to call Vickie or Ainsley. She'd given them her word. But she just couldn't help herself.

Kristy opened the closet door and reached into the very back. Her hand made contact with the object she wasn't supposed to look at. The object that everyone who cared about her had offered to set on fire, or at least store at their home.

She carefully hung the pristine white wedding gown on the outside of her closet and unzipped the plastic covering. Her wedding gown. Sleeveless white satin, with just a bit of beading on the bodice. She'd found it about six months ago at a store in Nashville and knew it was the elusive “one” as soon as she'd put it on. Her mother and Vickie both started crying when she stepped out of the dressing room. Kristy had never felt as beautiful as she had while wearing the dress.

Kristy and Mark had known they were getting married almost from their first date. They had the wedding figured out long before there was even a proposal. Music, location, wedding party—planning their day was so easy. If only they'd have paid as much attention to their relationship as they did to their wedding plans.

She pulled her gaze from the gown and opened the bottom dresser drawer. An old Nike box sat inside. She pulled it out and emptied the contents of the box onto her bed, fumbling through old valentines and birthday cards until she found the note she was looking for. Kristy wasn't sure what had possessed Mark to write it on a plain yellow legal pad, the same pad he used to make his packing lists for business trips. Not that it mattered what it was written on. She'd have known that handwriting anywhere.

The letter had been waiting at her house when she got back from their almost wedding. Not only did Mark leave her at the altar; he didn't have the decency to end the relationship in person. Even after several weeks, the letter still got to her. Although now when she read it, she didn't immediately burst into tears. Now the first emotion she felt was anger. And maybe a little sadness.

Three years. She'd spent three years with a man who promised her the world. They'd had it all planned out. All the way down to the names of the kids they wanted in a couple of years. Unfortunately, Mark's fear of commitment outweighed his love for her.

She looked at the dress for a few more minutes then sat on the bed and read through three years' worth of cards and letters. By the time she got to the pictures of the two of them in happier times, the tears were flowing freely. She told herself this was the last cry she was going to have over him. Although she couldn't help but wonder if she was crying over the loss of Mark—or the loss of the time she'd wasted on Mark.

Looking back over their relationship, Kristy knew he was right. If marrying him had been something she'd really wanted to do, she would've pressed the issue more during the years they'd spent together. Instead, it took him being transferred hundreds of miles away for her to tell him that she thought it was time they did more than just talk about the future.

His response had been great at first. A perfect proposal with a perfect ring. Then they went house hunting and found their dream home, where they would raise a family. Kristy picked out furniture, wall colors, and new flooring. The next logical step was the wedding, and she'd even offered to elope because she knew how nervous weddings made him. But he wanted a real wedding. Except that when it came down to it, he didn't want a wedding at all.

A loud knock on the front door sliced into her pounding head. The repeated banging propelled her off the bed. She wasn't expecting anyone. And she hated it when people dropped in unannounced. Especially on days like the one she was having. A glance in the mirror revealed that particular brand of red, splotchy face that only came with hours of crying. And she'd never been one to cry pretty, like some girls do.

Kristy glanced out the blinds and groaned. Ace, shifting from one foot to the other, stood on her front porch holding Sam. Just what she needed.

She could either open the door and let Ace know she'd been crying her eyes out, or do something drastic.

He knocked again.

She chose drastic. She wasn't going to let him see her cry.

“Just a minute,” she called to him.

Kristy ran into the bathroom, grabbed some menthol face cream, and slathered it all over her red face. White face-mask face was better than red, crying face any day.

She opened the door and hoped her fake smile looked sincere.

“Thanks for returning my little escape artist.” Why was it every time she ended up around him, she was trying to act normal?

He looked at her with worry darkening his eyes. “Here you go.” He handed Sam over to her. “Is everything okay?” He leaned toward her a little as they made the exchange, and his gaze seemed to see every tear mark beneath her face cream.

“Oh yeah. I'm fine. Just had a headache and thought this herbal mask might help.”
The headache was real at least. But herbal mask? Really? One good sniff and he's gonna know this is Noxzema.

“I hope you feel better. And if you'd like me to take a look at your fence, I'd be glad to.” He patted Sam on the head then brought his gaze back up to meet hers. “It seems like this little guy is determined to get out. I'd hate for anything to happen to him.”

Her cheeks ached from smiling. She took a step back and started to close the door. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe some other time?”

After the door was firmly shut behind her, she stepped to the window and watched him walk down the front path to his truck. She remembered plainly the kindness in his voice the other night at the stakeout when he'd asked her if she hated him. Why was he being so nice to her?

“Maybe he feels sorry for me because he thinks I got left at the altar and lost my mind,” she murmured to Sam as she lowered the pup to the floor. “Stay out of trouble while I wash my face.” Kristy splashed cool water on her face then stared at the puffy, red eyes in the mirror. Had her mask fooled him at all?

Hopefully she just looked sick. She certainly felt sick.

“Don't you see? The whole Robert fake date made you own up to your true feelings about Mark.” Ainsley was apparently trying to use the psychology class she took in college. “You said yourself that you weren't all that upset when you thought Robert stood you up. You were relieved, which meant you didn't want to go anyway, right?”

“Yeah.” Kristy nodded, even though she knew Ainsley couldn't see her.

“So you didn't care until you realized Robert
knew
you would have gone out with him had he
actually
asked. So it's pretty simple to me.” Ainsley was really getting into her psychologist role now.

“What's that?” Kristy spooned another scoop of dark chocolate ice cream into her mouth and savored the smooth, rich taste.

“Pride. Your pride is hurt. Again. You don't want to be vulnerable. And you are.”

Kristy sighed. “Maybe. Or maybe I was right in the first place and need to be on my own for a little while.”

“I think you need to talk to Mark. Get some closure. Didn't you say he called?”

“He called last Monday but didn't leave a message. He always hated leaving messages.” number sixteen on the list of reasons they weren't right for each other.

“Well, answer the phone the next time he calls. Or even better, call him yourself. You know he must be open to talking to you, or he never would've called you in the first place. And I don't think you're going to be able to move on until you've talked to him.”

“I don't know. I think that might open up a can of worms.”

“Or it might be exactly what you need in order to get over it.” she paused. “I think it might be worth a try.” At least Ainsley didn't pretend to have all the answers.

Kristy decided a subject change was in order. These past few weeks, it seemed like all their conversations had been about her. “How's everything with you? Any fun news?”

“Actually...” Ainsley trailed off and took a deep breath. “Brad and I have decided we're ready to be parents.” Her excitement flashed through the phone line and immediately made Kristy feel better. “We've been married now for four years. I think we're finally in a place where we can handle a baby.”

“Wow. That's great. You'll be great parents.” Of all the couples she knew, Brad and Ainsley were the one she'd always thought would be the best parents.

“We're so excited. Ever since my nephew came to spend a week with us last year, Brad's been talking about how much he wants to be a dad. It's adorable.”

“Well, keep me posted.”

“Of course. You and Vickie are the only ones who know. If I tell my family, every time they see or talk to me, they'll ask if I'm expecting. And that will get old fast.”

Kristy laughed. “You're right. I'll say a little prayer for you, but I promise not to ask. I'll just wait for happy news.”

“Great. That's what I was hoping.”

They said their good-byes, and Kristy busied herself with a few household chores. An hour later, laundry was done, dishes were done, and Sam was full. She considered calling her mother but thought better of it. They'd already made plans to meet at church tomorrow. Kristy felt sure they could hash out her problems over lunch when she broke the news to her mother about the Robert/Zach incident.

Sinking into a steamy bubble bath, Kristy thought about what Ainsley had confided on the phone. She and Brad were the most “in love” couple she'd ever met, so there was no doubt they'd do great at parenting. In fact, one of the nagging doubts in her own relationship had been that she and Mark had never seemed to be as in sync as Brad and Ainsley. When she'd brought it up to Mark, he'd scoffed and said she shouldn't compare relationships. But she'd always attributed it to the fact that Brad and Ainsley were friends before they dated. Brad was quick to tell people how much he loved being married to his best friend. And Ainsley could spend hours gushing over how blessed she was to have found him.

What must it be like to have a love like that?