by Vella Munn
“Why?”
“I’m the only male in my family. That comes with a lot of responsibility.”
Chapter Three
Garret was gone longer than he’d been the first time. She watched as he waited his turn to give his order to the young, harassed-looking male bartender. She thought he might spot someone he knew, but he didn’t talk to anyone. Instead, he stood without moving, appearing removed from the action. She wondered if that was a byproduct of his career. Maybe he spent so much time alone he wasn’t sure what was expected of him in social settings and wasn’t interested in changing who he was.
Either that or she was reading something into him that wasn’t there.
“You looked as if you wished you were somewhere else,” she said when he returned with their drinks. Her meal had erased the effects of her first glass of wine, but she knew not to have more than two. The last thing she wanted to do was get tipsy and do something crazy like hit on him.
All right, hitting on him might not be the worst move she’d ever made, but she should be sober when and if she did. Mostly she needed to have no doubt of his reaction. If he wasn’t interested, she refused to make a fool of herself.
“Did I?” He sat but didn’t glance at the woman who’d given him her number. “Maybe I mentally was.”
“Where were you?”
“Nowhere in particular. Maybe everywhere.”
There was something philosophical about his response. Hopefully as she got to know him, she’d learn how deep his thinking went. She wasn’t sure she could match how he approached life. Maybe she’d disappoint him—and herself.
Instead of trying to keep that particular conversation going, she sipped on her wine then asked how he wound up working for the forest service.
“As soon as we were old enough,” he said, “Hunter and I signed up to fight fires. We made great money and saw more of the country than we ever could on our own.”
He took a swallow of beer then locked his gaze on her. Disjointed sounds and movement wove around them, but she only cared about this man. She wished they were at Flathead Lake, just the two of them. Or in the wilderness looking for bears.
Or sharing the same sleeping bag.
“Firefighting can be dangerous,” she said because something seemed to be expected of her.
“Most of the time not.”
But what about those other times?
“I can’t imagine doing that. I’ve watched the news.” She took another sip. “The flames look terrifying.”
“They’re inevitable.” He lifted his mug to his lips, swallowed then put it down. There was a certain grace to everything he did. It was as if he’d had a hand in creating his muscles and thus had total control over them. “I don’t see fire as something to be afraid of. I know what wind is capable of and what equipment fighters have at their disposal. Human beings are another story.”
He was telling her something important. She needed to remain silent to see how deep he’d go.
“Humans are complex and unpredictable. I knew that before I got involved in law enforcement but having the ability and responsibility to arrest someone means I see them at their worst.”
“Law enforcement? I thought you were a ranger.”
“I am.”
“Then—”
“Police aren’t specifically assigned to the wilderness, but we rangers are there all the time. It made sense to those who make those kinds of decisions for us to fill that role.”
“Your job gets more complicated all the time. Did you think it was going to be like that when you got hired?”
He looked past her toward the only window. “I’m still learning. Don’t expect that to change. I have the suspicion it’ll be the same for you.”
“I’m sure it will.” She felt the wine’s heat in her throat and head. Either that or she was reacting to Garret. Whichever it was, maybe a combination of the two, she wanted to continue to drift in the present she shared with him. “School only teaches you so much. Sometimes what you’re studying and being tested on has nothing to do with preparing for the real world.”
His slow nod let her know he agreed. She didn’t like that they had to speak loudly in order to be heard, but the inconvenience was worth it because she was with him.
“So,” she said, “fighting fires gave you an in with the service?”
“Not really. I realized I’d have to go to college if I stood a chance of being hired full-time.”
“You sound like my parents. They made it clear that my education wouldn’t end with high school. I was expected to choose a career and stay on that course until I’d reached my goal, or should I say the goal they’d aimed me at.” Surprised by what she’d revealed, she gnawed on her lower lip. “It’ll be a long time before I pay off my student loans.”
“Me, too.” He patted the back of the hand she’d wrapped around her wine glass. “Four years at Salish Kootenai College followed by transferring to Montana State University for a master’s in fish and wildlife management. Even though I knew where I wanted to wind up, I’m not sure if I would have hung in there if it wasn’t for Hunter.”
“He went the same route?”
“We didn’t have every class together but most of them. We kept pushing each other. If nothing else, I have a diploma that says I know what wildlife management is about, or rather what it’s supposed to be. Like you pointed out, the real world tends to be different.”
“Is Hunter your best friend? It sounds like it.”
“Him and Jake.”
“Jake? Is he the other ranger?”
“Yes. You’ll meet them before long. We have each other’s backs. Knowing I can trust them in every way that counts makes doing the job easier.”
Her hand still held the memory of his previous brief touch as she lifted her glass and took another drink. The young women who’d been interested in Garret were getting ready to leave. Despite the noise their chairs made and the people all around, it was as if she and Garret were on their own island. Their conversation was private, touching on the deeply personal.
“I never really had a best friend.”
He stared at her. The longer his gaze continued, the more uncomfortable she became. At the same time, she didn’t regret saying what she had.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Forget I said that. I understand why things turned out the way they did.”
“I’d like to know, if you want to talk about it.”
“I think I do but not in here.”
“How about we leave?” he asked and stood. “We can go for a walk, let the booze dissipate a bit.”
Because he was bigger than her, it was possible he didn’t feel the effects of his two beers. He’d tracked how much she drank, but instead of wanting him to mind his own business, his concern for her welfare made it easy for her to stand and slide close to him.
In essence, her family lived in each other’s pockets. All decisions required a group effort. Even though her brothers were married and Randy’s wife was pregnant, the men still talked to their parents every day. Their conversations focused on such things as whether to invest in a particular stock or what they thought of what Congress was doing. She couldn’t remember the last time her parents had shown interest in their children’s emotions. Long ago she’d concluded talking about feelings made them uncomfortable. Emotions were beyond their area of expertise. Their comprehension.
“There.” Garret closed the bar door behind them. “That’s better. Quiet.”
It would soon be dark. “My ears are ringing.”
He’d kept his arm around her shoulder as they’d walked through the human gauntlet. There was no longer a need for him to protect her, but his arm’s weight remained to remind her of him, like she needed that.
“We could go to the park, but we’re only a few blocks from a golf course,” he said once she’d locked her purse minus her car keys in her vehicle. “This time of night
there probably won’t be anyone around to chase us off it.”
“Are you suggesting we do something illegal?”
He winked. “I’m next thing to a cop. I wouldn’t suggest anything of the sort.”
“But I can. Do you think we’ll get away with it?”
Squeezing her, he chuckled. “I say it’s worth finding out.”
“So do I.”
As they walked with their hips occasionally brushing and his arm heating her shoulder, she told him that her parents belonged to one of Sacramento’s oldest golf clubs. They didn’t often golf because their respective careers were so time consuming but as they’d explained countless times, connecting with influential and wealthy people was essential. She’d been on the golf team during her freshman and sophomore years of high school but wasn’t particularly good. She’d quit a month before she worked up the courage to tell her parents.
“Were they angry?” he asked.
“Mostly disappointed. Some important business people’s children were on the school’s team. According to Mom and Dad, I’d made a bad decision.”
“I take it you didn’t feel the same way.”
As they neared the golf course’s empty parking lot, she thought back to when she was in elementary school and accompanying her parents and brothers as they played golf meant getting to watch the ducks and geese that hung out around the ponds. She’d loved spotting chipmunks and squirrels and didn’t mind when her balls wound up in sand traps or water.
“I was relieved. I was involved in so many activities—I’m glad those years are behind me. High school wasn’t much fun.”
“Because your parents stressed grades?”
“That and other things like—what do you think?” She pointed at the first tee, which was faintly illuminated by the parking lot lights. “As long as we stay on the path, I don’t think it’s a felony.”
“If we’re caught, we’ll probably get away with a fine. Not much of a black mark on our records.”
“Then if you’re certain we won’t get locked up, let’s do this.” Feeling a little giddy, she slipped out from under his arm and stepped onto the ribbon of cement. Now that he was no longer there to shield her from the night air, she realized it was getting cold. It might be summer, but they were in the shadow of some impressive mountains. How did Garret dress when he knew he’d be spending the night on one?
Did being alone in the wilderness ever make him nervous?
He joined her, took her hand, and started walking. “Do you golf?” she asked so she’d have something other than their fingers laced together to focus on. The gesture couldn’t have been a simple one on his part. At least she hoped it wasn’t.
“Tried it once.”
Earlier she’d sensed additional layers behind something he’d said. It felt like that again. “Only once. Do you want to talk about it?”
He stopped and drew her around so they were face to face. “Interesting that you put it that way.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t have?”
“I don’t mind you asking,” he said. “From what you’ve told me, I think our childhoods were quite different. Your family had money, right?”
“They still do. I can’t take credit for any of it, and I’m not going to apologize.”
“I don’t want you to. Golf wasn’t anywhere on my radar while I was growing up.”
“You had no interest in it?”
“None. Does that bother you?”
“Not at all. Were you involved in other sports? I see you playing football.”
“I gave it a shot because the coach pressured me, but the competition didn’t appeal to me. I spent as much of my free time exploring the back country that makes up the Flathead reservation as I could.”
Because she was looking up, his breath feathered over her forehead. Between that and their entwined fingers, she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. A day ago she hadn’t known he existed now they were sharing a great deal, including silent body messages. She hadn’t had sex since shortly before placing her engagement ring in Barnes’ palm but that wasn’t why she felt so alive, so restless.
Garret Houle, who worked in the same building she did and, as far as she knew, slept alone, was responsible.
“The reservation? Was that because of your friendship with Hunter?”
“I started exploring the area before I met him.”
Much as she wanted him to tell her why he’d been drawn there, she’d already pressed enough. He’d say what he believed she had a right to know.
“There was a lot going on in my life,” he said. “The responsibilities I mentioned earlier. The rez was a place to go to get away for a little while. Then I met Hunter’s grandfather, William Beavers.”
His voice had deepened and softened as he mentioned the older man’s name.
“Is he still alive?” she whispered.
“No.”
“I’m sorry. He meant a lot to you?”
“A great deal.”
When he didn’t say more, she drew her hand free and tucked her hands in her front pockets so her thinking would clear. The chill was growing, but she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“I mentioned I didn’t have a best friend.” She started walking again. He kept pace. “Looking back, I realize my family fulfilled that role for many years. By the time I started drawing away—most kids do that—maybe it was too late. I didn’t know how to get close to someone who didn’t have the same last name. My family shared a great deal but not what was most important.”
“And that was?”
He wanted to learn more about her. She might not be ready to tell him everything, but she could give him more than she had.
“Feelings. Hopes and dreams. Doubts and fears.”
She thought he might touch her again, but he only walked beside her. Fortunately, the moon was up. Otherwise they risked stepping off the path and getting disoriented. If that happened, they might have to wander around until it got light. Maybe she wouldn’t mind.
“I’m sorry it was like that for you,” he said.
“So am I. I tried to get Mom to open up about her feelings. You know, the female bonding thing, but she wasn’t interested.”
“Either that or she wasn’t sure what you wanted from her.”
How perceptive of you. “That’s possible.”
He stopped, prompting her to do the same. She wanted to face him again, but if she looked into his eyes she might not be able to say another word. The man confused her.
And that wasn’t his only impact on her, not by far.
“You’re expressing yourself pretty well right now,” he said.
“Am I?”
“Yes. What I’m hearing is a lack of experience on your part when it comes to personal matters.”
Barnes had pretty much said the same thing when she’d faltered while trying to explain why she wasn’t the right woman for him. Fortunately, unlike Barnes, Garret wasn’t throwing his words at her.
“It’s pretty pathetic. I mean, aren’t women supposed to wear their emotions on their sleeves?”
“Most do but not all.”
On the brink of agreeing with him, she ran what he’d said though her mind. “It sounds as if you’re speaking from personal experience.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure what to say.” She had to ram her hands deeper into her pockets to keep from reaching for him.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
He glanced at the moon, which prompted her to do the same. Then she looked at him. She might be imagining it but had his expression softened? The moon could do that to a person. It certainly had to her, especially on nights when her solitude had both bothered and comforted her. Maybe, if they continued to have this kind of conversation, she’d learn whether Garret felt the same way.
“Amber, I have two younger sisters. Growing up, the household consisted of my grandmother, mother, Meri, and Liana. Needless to say, I was around a lot of f
emale sensibility.”
“You were outnumbered.”
“I didn’t know anything else.”
“Your grandmother? Then it was a three-generation household.”
“For the most part it worked.”
“But sometimes you had to fight for bathroom time?”
“For sure.”
“What about your grandmother? Is she alive?”
“She’s probably going to outlive all of us. At least that’s what Mom says.”
She nearly said something about him coming from healthy stock when she remembered what he’d whispered to her during the meeting about his father.
At the moment they weren’t close enough that she could easily touch him. Besides, she wasn’t sure that was wise. Garret didn’t just have her off-balance. She’d never felt like this around a man, different. New. He might take her attempt to offer sympathy, if that was what it was, as something he didn’t want or need. Maybe sometime in the distant future she wouldn’t psychoanalyze everything he said let alone her reaction to his words, but that time hadn’t come.
“Garret?” She pulled her hands out of her pockets then didn’t know what to do with them. “During the meeting you mentioned your father, how little you knew about him. He wasn’t part of your life?”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t miss what I never had. The bastard walked when Liana was a baby. I’ve only heard from him a handful of times since then. Most times he was drunk. The last was when he called asking me to bail him out of jail. I said no.”
Every molecule of her being ached to embrace him, but he was an adult who’d lived with his father’s rejection all his life. He’d simply stated a fact—at least that was how he wanted his words to be perceived.
“I know what you said about not missing him, but no child deserves to be treated that way.”
“Children deserve to be around people who love them, which my mother, grandmother, and sisters do. I consider myself a pretty fortunate man.”
“What a wonderful attitude. Your father will probably never realize what he’s missing by not knowing you.” When he didn’t respond, she searched her mind for something else to say. “And now that I have a career, I’m grateful to my parents for keeping me on track.”