Only His

THE BEAUTIFUL FALL AFTERNOON brought out both residents and tourists, Nevada thought as she and Cat strolled through the center of town on Sunday afternoon. The leaves were changing, bringing bright reds and yellows to the trees, dressing up the streets. Fool’s Gold was a place that celebrated every season, every holiday. Although it was several weeks before Halloween, storefronts were a mass of pumpkins and ghosts. Windows had been painted, harvest baskets stood by open doors, and at the center of town was a Thanksgiving diorama with Pilgrims and Native Americans sitting down to a turkey dinner.

The display had been around for as long as Nevada could remember. The clothes were a little tattered and the mannequin faces needed a fresh coat of paint. Still, it was traditional and, in its own way, beautiful.

“I don’t know,” Cat said doubtfully, eyeing the Pilgrims. “They’re not inspiring.”

“The town puts them up every year,” Nevada told her. “It’s tradition.”

Cat looked at the square, turning in a circle as she took in the buildings and the open space. “I think you could do better. Fool’s Gold is such a special place. I can feel the feminine energy. I’m filled with inspiration.”

The temperatures were mild for early October. Mid-sixties, with plenty of blue skies. Mornings were crisp and the higher elevations were already getting frost.

Cat was dressed like everyone else, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Still, she managed to look more glamorous, more perfect. Maybe it was the fur-trimmed vest, or the designer boots. Maybe it was the way her layered dark hair cascaded down her back. Maybe it was how the sun seemed to focus on her high cheekbones and wide eyes.

Cat had called a couple of hours ago and insisted they spend the afternoon together. Nevada had been hoping for a repeat with Tucker, but had agreed to meet her friend instead.

Cat turned away from the diorama and smiled at Nevada. “I feel the call of Mother Earth.”

She spoke seriously, as if Nevada should understand what she was talking about.

“What is she saying?”

“To create something wonderful for this town. Let’s get a latte.”

They walked back toward the main street. Cat nodded and smiled to nearly everyone they passed.

“Don’t you love how the mountains reach up toward the sky?” Cat asked, linking arms with her. “The silhouette as dusk approaches. The colors are magical. I don’t do much with color. I’ve thought about painting, how that could be new for me. But what if I’m not brilliant?”

“Do you have to be?” Most people were happy to be good at something. Brilliant was a whole new level.

Cat turned to her, tears in her eyes. “It’s who I am.”

Nevada came to a stop. “I’m sorry. I was being flippant. I can’t completely understand who you are and what you do.” Talk about stupid, she thought. Cat wasn’t like the ordinary mortals she shared space with. Yes, she was egotistical and self-absorbed, but she was also gifted in a way very few could understand.

“It’s all right,” Cat told her, sniffing delicately. “I’ve thought of trying to paint. I have, in private. It’s just that everything I do is judged so harshly. The critics, the art world. They’re ready to pounce, ready to say I’ve reached my pinnacle and am now in decline. I’m not ready to be finished. I live for my work—I can’t stand the thought of that being taken from me.”

Nevada thought about pointing out that Cat wouldn’t just miss the art. She could continue to work and never let anyone see another piece. But that was silliness. For Cat the art and the fame were one and the same.

“That’s one of the things I love so much about this place,” Cat said with a sigh. “The people are so giving and accepting. They understand that I’m just like them.”

Nevada shook her head. “You’re many things, but you’re not like them.”

Cat smiled. “All right, but I get to be close to everyone else when I’m here. That’s restful. Their support gives me energy.”

She was the center of her own universe, Nevada thought, more amused than annoyed by that fact. When one had been declared a great artist by the age of fourteen, being humble was probably an impossibility.

They turned and walked through the crowd to the Starbucks. Once inside, Cat greeted several people by name. She flirted with the teenager taking her order. Nevada watched him blush and fumble with the cash register.

She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have been born with that much power over men. Sure, some found Nevada attractive and it wasn’t as if she had to wear a bag over her head to avoid frightening small children, but she wasn’t in Cat’s league. Men didn’t trip over themselves in a rush to hold open a door. No rock star had ever dedicated an album to her.

“What would you like?” Cat asked.

Nevada ordered a pumpkin spice latte to celebrate the season. Although, after the cupcakes she’d consumed this weekend, she was going to have to spend the next week being a little careful. All this stress eating was going to make her jeans tight.

Cat got the same. When their order was up, they collected their drinks and went back outside.

There were several small tables on the sidewalk. One was freed up as they approached and they sat across from each other.

The sun was warm. A few leaves fluttered to the ground by them. Cat picked up the largest and set it on the table.

“See the different colors,” she said, smoothing out the leaf. “It’s not just red. Look more closely. There’s scarlet and crimson. Cerise, carmine and vermilion. Nature gives us perfection and we spend our lives trying to come close.”

Nevada could see the different colors but couldn’t have named them. She barely would have noticed the leaf at all, if Cat hadn’t picked it up.

Cat dropped the leaf back on the ground and put her hands around her coffee. “Sometimes I find everything so difficult. Not just the work, but living with these gifts.”

Nevada took a sip and did her best not to roll her eyes.

Cat looked at her, her green eyes stark with pain. “What I have, my talent, for lack of a better word, it separates me from everyone else. I can’t give up my art and live like you do, but the price I pay for that is that there is always a wall between me and everyone else.”

For the second time in about twenty minutes, Nevada felt like scum. It wasn’t pleasant. She’d always been so quick to judge Cat. At times the other woman was comical, but she was also a person.

“I can see where it would be difficult,” she said slowly. “You’re always on display. People want to know you because of your talent and your fame. How can you know when someone is being sincere?”

Cat’s whole face brightened. “Yes. I knew you’d understand. I want more, but I’m afraid of it, too. Of what I’ll have to give up. That if I find love or happiness, the rest of it will be taken from me.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I use that as an excuse. Relationships require effort and I can be lazy. I give everything to my work and when I’m done I want someone taking care of me. I want to be the important one.”

“They say understanding the problem is half the battle.”

Cat laughed. “I think they’re wrong. Because I’m not that interested in changing. I like being spoiled.” Her humor faded. “But sometimes I want more. I want a connection.” She leaned toward Nevada. “I came here because of you.”

Nevada wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. “You mean because I’d talked about my hometown?” She couldn’t remember much of what she and Cat had talked about ten years ago, but it made sense that she would have mentioned Fool’s Gold.

“No.” Cat’s eyes softened. “Although you did talk about it endlessly. I came because I remembered how much I liked you. I thought we had a connection I don’t find with many people.”

Nevada shifted in her seat. She had the oddest sense that this conversation was about to take an unexpected turn.

“We’re friends,” Nevada told her. “I think you need some friends.”

Cat stared at her intently. “We can be friends if you’d like. But I was thinking of something more.”

With that, she moved toward Nevada. Her head tilted and her mouth…

Nevada scrambled to her feet so quickly the chair went skidding across the sidewalk. Disbelief battled with a voice in her head saying she had to have misunderstood—that there was no way Cat had been about to kiss her.

“Nevada?”

Cat didn’t look the least bit upset. If anything, amusement teased at the corners of her mouth.

“I, ah, have to go,” Nevada stammered. “I have to be somewhere.”

She should probably say something else. Offer a less lame excuse. But her brain wasn’t working, so she turned and took off at a run.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY,” Nevada insisted, pacing the length of the trailer, which, considering how small it was, wasn’t very satisfying. “It’s not funny at all.”

Tucker sat on the corner of his desk, watching her. He was grinning like a sheep and really starting to piss her off.

“It’s a little funny,” he said. “Come on. Cat coming on to you?”

She spun on her work-boot heel and glared at him. “Are you saying I’m not worthy?”

He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “No. Of course not. I’m saying Cat is firmly in the guy camp. Trust me. I have proof.”

“I’m sure you do and I know what you’re saying makes sense.” She stared pacing again. “It’s just I would swear…”

She shook her head. Maybe she was going crazy. Maybe she’d misunderstood. But it hadn’t felt like a misunderstanding. It had felt as if Cat was going to kiss her. Right there in front of Starbucks!

After their encounter, Nevada had gone back to her apartment, only to find she was too restless to stay there. She’d phoned Montana and had been thrilled to learn that Simon had been called into emergency surgery. That made her a hideous person, because that meant someone was hurt.

Telling herself she wasn’t responsible hadn’t helped much, but spending the evening with her sister had. They’d packed up most of Montana’s small house for the impending move to Max’s place. She’d gotten home late and exhausted, and still hadn’t been able to sleep.

“We were talking about her,” she said, going over the material for the four thousandth time.

“It is Cat’s favorite topic.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry.”

He didn’t look sorry. He looked like a man trying not to laugh.

“I could kill you, you know,” she told him. “This is my town. They’d help hide the body.”

“You’d miss me.”

“Not as much as you’d think.”

He crossed to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I think Cat was just being her normal, narcissistic self. It was all about her, and somehow you read that as something else.”

“Maybe.” She’d been so sure at the time, though. Scared, even. “You weren’t there. She keeps talking about being in her feminine phase. Maybe this is part of that.”

His mouth twitched again. “Were you tempted?”

She slapped his hands away. “Did I mention I hate you?”

“Can I watch?”

“Yuck. What’s wrong with you? I have a serious problem.”

“A beautiful woman wants you. That is a problem.”

She grunted in irritation, then stalked to her desk. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“And you’re taking it too seriously. Even if she did try to kiss you, this is Cat we’re talking about. She was just being her usual attention-seeking self. It doesn’t mean she’s serious about wanting to have sex with you.”

At last he was making sense. “I can buy that,” she admitted. “I was being sympathetic. I’m sure that’s all it was. Her responding to that.”

“Right. And if it turns out she is serious, are you making a video?”

She picked up the folder on her desk and opened it to study the compaction report inside. “Are you talking? All I hear is a buzzing sound. It’s the strangest thing.”

He crossed to her, turned her and kissed her. “I’m sorry she upset you. I’m sorry you were uncomfortable.”

She leaned against him. “I don’t have anything against girl kissing,” she whispered. “In theory. I just don’t want to share in it.”

“Cat was playing. She’ll have moved on to something else by the time you see her again.”

“I hope.”

“Trust me.”

WHEN A DAY OF MOVING lumber and walking the site that would be blasted didn’t make Nevada feel any better, she gladly accepted an invitation to join her friends at Jo’s Bar after work. Heidi had promised to call Annabelle and Charlie, and the other women were waiting when Nevada arrived—as was a very tall, very cold vodka tonic.

“You read my mind,” she said, slipping into the seat they’d saved for her. “Thanks.” She took a sip. “How are things with everyone?”

“Good,” Heidi said with a grin. “No recent goat escapes, which is working for me. And the feral cows are keeping their distance.”

Annabelle laughed. “You’re the only person I know who’s frightened of cows.”

“I’m not frightened. They’re a bad influence.”

Annabelle shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m fine, too. Loving the library, loving the town. Did you all see the leaves over the weekend? Talk about beautiful.”