“He loves you, too,” Rorie told her. “That’s what makes this all so difficult.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Kate answered flatly, without a hint of doubt. “I accepted that a long time before you ever arrived. Oh, he respects and likes me, and to Clay’s way of thinking that was enough.” She hesitated, frowning. “To my way of thinking, it was, too. We probably would’ve married and been content. But everything changed when Clay met you. You hit him right between the eyes, Rorie—a direct hit.”
“I’m sure he feels more for you than admiration…”
“No.” Kate rummaged in her purse for a tissue. “He told me as much himself, but like I said, it wasn’t something I didn’t already know. You see, I was so crazy about Clay, I was willing to take whatever he offered me, even if it was only second-best.” She swabbed at the tears that sprang so readily to her eyes and paused in an effort to gather her composure. “I’m sorry. It’s still so painful. But you see, through all of this, I’ve learned a great deal about what it means to love someone.”
Rorie’s own eyes welled with involuntary tears, which she hurriedly brushed aside. Then Kate’s fingers clasped hers and squeezed tight in a gesture of reassurance.
“I learned that loving people means placing their happiness before your own. That’s the way you love Clay, and it’s the way he loves you.” Kate squared her shoulders and inhaled a quavery breath.
“Kate, please, this isn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is, because what I’ve got to say next is the hardest part. I need to ask your forgiveness for that terrible letter I wrote after you left Nightingale. I don’t have any excuse except that I was insane with jealousy.”
“Letter? You wrote me a terrible letter?” The only one Rorie had received was the chatty note that had told her about Mary’s prize-winning ribbon and made mention of the upcoming wedding.
“I used a subtle form of viciousness,” Kate replied, her voice filled with self-contempt.
Rorie discounted the possibility that Kate could ever be malicious. “The only letter I got from you wasn’t the least bit terrible.”
Kate lowered her eyes to her hands, neatly folded on the table. Her grip tightened until Rorie was sure her nails would cut her palms.
“I lied in that letter,” Kate continued. “When I told you that Clay wouldn’t have time for you while he was at the horse show, I was trying to imply that you didn’t mean anything to him anymore. I wanted you to think you’d slipped from his mind when nothing could have been further from the truth.”
“Don’t feel bad about it. I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
“No, Rorie, you wouldn’t have. That letter was an underhand attempt to hold on to Clay… I was losing him more and more each day and I thought… I hoped that if you believed we were going to be married in October, then… Oh, I don’t know, my thinking was so warped and desperate.”
“Your emotions were running high at the time.” Rorie’s had been, too; she understood Kate’s pain because she’d been in so much pain herself.
“But I was pretending to be your friend when in reality I almost hated you.” Kate paused, her shoulders shaking with emotion. “That was the crazy part. I couldn’t help liking you and wanting to be your friend, and at the same time I was eaten alive with jealousy and selfish resentment.”
“It’s not in you to hate anyone, Kate.”
“I… I didn’t think it was, either, but I was wrong. I can be a terrible person, Rorie. Facing up to that hasn’t been easy.” She took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Then…a few days after I mailed that letter to you, Clay came over to the house wanting to talk. Almost immediately I realized I’d lost him. Nothing I could say or do would change the way he felt about you. I said some awful things to Clay that night… He’s forgiven me, but I need your forgiveness, too.”
“Oh, Kate, of course, but it isn’t necessary. I understand. I truly do.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, dabbing her eyes with the crumpled tissue. “Now I’ve got that off my chest, I feel a whole lot better.”
“But if Clay had broken your engagement when he came to San Francisco, why didn’t he say anything to me?”
Kate shrugged. “I don’t know what happened while he was gone, but he hasn’t been himself since. He never has been a talkative person, but he seemed to draw even further into himself when he came back. He’s working himself into an early grave, everyone says. Mary’s concerned about him—we all are. Mary said if you didn’t come soon, she was going after you herself.”