“Harry’s so mesmerized by Ashley he doesn’t dare be a dork or she’ll think he is a dork,” I said, making sure no little ears were listening.
Judy’s left eyebrow shot up. “Who calls anyone a dork anymore?”
I smiled. “Me.”
“So not cool,” Judy said. “So you really are thinking about this John thing, right?”
I pressed my lips together in disgust.
“Good girl. Not everyone would be able to pull it off, but I think you have the stamina and talent to pull off anything you want to.”
“Thanks, but let’s not push it.”
Chloe gestured for me to sit by her when we neared the fire pit. Walter wanted me to sit by him, too. John motioned to me to join him.
“Man, I should walk around with treats more often.” Judy drained her beer and opened another one.
Winston sat on a stump, strumming his guitar.
Chloe burped. Harry’s faint smile of pride made me chuckle. French Fry jumped from Chloe’s lap and ran into the dusky haze of the early evening as the stars began to shine in the night sky. Harry snubbed his approval of Chloe’s belch and his brother’s apology while I relished the one, big happy group around me that I considered family.
Judy raised her beer can toward the fire. “Here’s to Montana.”
Winston winked and began playing John Denver’s “Wild Montana Skies.” Goose bumps covered my arms. Winston was proving to be a very interesting individual. There was nothing city about him. He sang the words as he strummed the cords. “It’s his favorite tune,” John said, blowing out the flames of his burning marshmallow.
“Well, I like it,” Chloe said.
“Me too.” Walter concurred with a nod of his head, stuffing his mouth with gooey pillows of melted sugar.
Judy raised her beer can toward the heavens. “To Montana,” she said even louder, then Harry punched his little brother in the arm.
Chapter 16
Feeling the need for some alone time, I crept back outside, and leisurely sashayed down the path that led to the fire pit.
“I thought I heard someone coming.”
Winston picked at the strings on his guitar as I emerged into the light of the glowing embers.
His rendition of “Leaving on a Jet Plane” danced in the Montana night, the stars the tambourine, the crickets the chorus. I settled into the Adirondack chair next to him then propped my feet up on a log. The heat warmed my toes while Winston’s tune cheered me up, even if I’d hoped to wallow in self-pity alone.
“Whatcha doing out here? Thought you’d be long asleep by now with all that riding you did.” Winston leaned his guitar against the chair on the other side of him. Moonlight shone across his face, highlighting years of hard work and determination.
“Restless, I guess.”
“I suppose you would be,” he said, peering in my direction, wisdom glistening in his night eyes.
Everyone could read me better than I could read myself. Damn it. I tugged my jacket closed, John’s scent embedded in the fabric. Curious of Winston’s intention and the conversation we shared earlier in the day, I felt safe in asking, “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen it before and I see it in you.”
I stared into Winston’s midnight eyes as he rubbed his whiskery chin. His demeanor gentle and wise. I suspected he could talk his way out of a bear’s den without batting an eyelash.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you see?” My head tingled with the slight beer buzz from the evening, leading me to believe I should have kept my mouth zipped.
Winston poked the fire with a long stick. Yellow flames licked the dying logs like the lake back home when it kissed the shore. He propped his foot up on the log next to mine and crossed his legs. With his elbows resting on the armrests, he clasped his hands under his chin. “I see it in so many who pass this way. They’re unsettled, kicking like a bronco, stirring up dust so they can’t see what’s right in front of them.”
The night air kissed my neck like John’s lips and the only sound between Winston and I was the snapping fire that sang its own tune. I breathed in slowly letting his words settle.
“I saw it when I first met you, I see it now. There isn’t anything wrong with making peace with your true calling. Fear breeds fools,” he said, nudging his Stetson back from his brow.
Narrowing my gaze, I peered into the fire hoping it could tell the future like a crystal ball. “Do you know when you see something and it seems impossible?”
“Yep, that’s what this place was many moons ago, a dream. You’re talking about a dream.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Nobody can dictate your future. Some will think you’re foolish no matter which fork in the road you choose. Those who don’t follow their hearts are the dunderheads. I think you already know this, but all forks in the road lead home.”
Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my belly. His words coaxed me to scrutinize the decisions I struggled with. Sleepy notions swept away my words.
“It’s getting late and this old wrangler has an early morning. Will I see you on a horse tomorrow?”
The moon tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
I felt the creases in my brow form. “What?”
“Your britches might be a little sore, but your head’s telling you to saddle up tomorrow ’cause it’s calling you. That’s the hard part ’bout making decisions. You can’t see your own face.”
I swallowed away the foolishness that lingered on my tongue. “What exactly do my eyes say?”
Winston leaned forward and so did I. “You’re yearning, dear girl. You’re yearning.” Winston touched his chest. “Pay attention to what your gut is telling you.”
I leaned back in my chair then smoothed the hair away from my face, knowing that fear stifled rationalization. Winston stood, reached for his guitar, and bid me a goodnight.
“Night,” I said.
He looked over his shoulder before leaving me by myself.
“Yeah, I’ll be back up on that horse.”
He clicked his tongue, his eyes like midnight emeralds. “Good, ’cause you sure look like you belong up there.” Winston strolled toward the house, his footsteps echoing through the Montana shadows.
My eyelids grew heavy and the fire dimmed, but I pulled another beer from my pocket, cracked it open, and then dug for the Hershey bar in my other pocket. My mental laundry list of responsibilities reeled in my head, but I folded it up to enjoy what was left of the night and this unforgettable vacation. Tilting my chin to the sky, I searched for the perfect Montana star. Dreams seemed greater in this spectacular landscape, not dampened by career expectations, neighbors, and roads filled with people bogging me down.
I threw my Hershey wrapper into the fire, admiring its last flicker in the night. With half a beer left, I couldn’t drink one more drop of Montana ale. The echo of a slow stride caught my attention. A tall, dark silhouette standing with his thumbs hooked in his front pockets greeted me. “You look like the Malbaro Man,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair.
“Dad said you were out here. I didn’t hear you leave.”
“Chloe’s not the only sneaky one around here,” I said with a grin, poking the burnt embers with Winston’s stick, hoping for one last burst of energy.
John pulled me out of my chair. We stood toe-to-toe in the moonlight where hazy light washed over us like a fairy tale, I supposed the one that John spoke of earlier. His hands rested on my hips. His eyes sparkled like jewels at nightfall. My heart fluttered like Frankie’s wings as he flew away. I swallowed hard, reminding myself that I was human.
John rested his hand on my chest. His fingers caressed my collarbone. “Your heart is racing,” he said.
“I know. I’m not sure what to do about that?” I hooked my fingers in his front pockets.
“Dad said you might need some company.”
&n
bsp; “I think he told you just the opposite.”
“Yeah, he said you needed some time alone.”
I imagined someday John might have a rougher exterior, one that matched the mountain ridges aged by time and weather. John’s crooked grin harnessed me and Winston’s words were etched in my mind. “I guess all this thinking is making my heart beat faster.”
John kissed my cheek. “I think that’s good.”
“Me too.” I touched his face, tracing his jawline with my fingers, memorizing the glimmer in his eyes. “I like how you look in your Stetson and jeans.”
“I like how you look riding in front of me perched in a saddle. No one would guess you’re a city girl.”
“I like how it feels to be in the saddle. I like the horses,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said.
“You had a city girl before. What makes you think it could be different this time?”
John’s warm touch caressed my cheek. “You giving me a chance?” he asked, holding my face in his hands. “What’s with the sad eyes?”
“Just a lot to figure out.” I covered his hands with mine. “I guess there’s part of me that wants to stay and I know I can’t.” I traced John’s lips with my finger. “This is so hard.”
Winston’s words grew louder in my head.
“You know how I feel,” John said.
“I know.”
The fire died out and we stood in the darkness as the moon hid behind massive clouds. Heat lightning flashed low in the sky behind the pines in the distant.
“Maybe we’re just the calm,” John said.
The boat rocked beneath my feet and John’s strong arms steadied me. “I’d like to think there won’t be any storms.”
“That’s a nice thought, Maggie Abernathy, but without the rain and storms, there wouldn’t be foggy mornings, the fresh scent of pine, and the reminder that there are some things bigger than we’ll ever be.”
My eyes closed just for a second. In that blip of time, John kissed the side of my head and scooped me up like I’d seen him do to Chloe so many times before back home.
“I think someone needs to find her way home,” he whispered.
“Yeah, home. Are you taking me to bed?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I wish, darlin’, I wish.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I rested my head against his shoulder. He smelled of leather and sage.
“I know, darlin’, I know.”
Chapter 17
Even with my eyes closed and being half-asleep, I had the eerie feeling that I was being watched. When I forced away the dream in my subconscious, I peeked through squinted eyes. Daylight streamed into the room, and Chloe stood just inches away from my face.
“What time is it?” I asked her.
“About eight o’clock. Are you awake?”
She leaned in closer to my face. I covered my head with the patchwork comforter. “Ugh.” A moan escaped my lips. My head was in a fog. “Just let me sleep for a few more minutes. I’ll pay you.”
Chloe peeked under the covers.
“What? How much do you want?”
“Not that much. I guess. I’ve been waiting for you to get up,” she said with a grimace. “I guess I can wait a little longer if you really want me to.”
Folding the covers back, I scooted over so she could nuzzle in next to me. Bradley used to keep me company when I wanted to stay in bed and he felt the need to be by my side. Chloe’s urgency to start the day stumped me. “You can crawl in if you want,” I said to her, rubbing my forehead and closing my eyes again.
“Really?”
I opened one eye and turned my head to see her better. “Really. Just climb in.” I scooted over a smidge more. “It’s too early to get up.”
“You got up this early the other day, not that day that you overslept, but before then, remember?”
“Yes, you made me breakfast, remember?” I covered my face with the back of my hand.
“Dad made you breakfast and sent me up here to give it to you.”
“Do you think you can go back to sleep for a bit?” I asked, hoping like hell she could. What was the rush anyway? I dozed off for a brief second, but woke when Chloe shifted her weight and rearranged the covers. When I opened my eyes, she was lying on her side facing me, her clasped hands under the right side of her face, her eyes closed, and a grin on her face. Soft breaths escaped her lips. She sighed like Bones did when he had given up. Glad for the reprieve, I focused on falling back asleep, even if it were only for five minutes. My mind wandered back in time to last night. Heat moved through me like wildfire. I kicked my leg out from underneath the covers and raised my arms over my head. God, I loathed these hot flashes. What did men have that even equate to this phenomenon?
Chloe felt my forehead with her clammy hand. “Holy crap,” she said. “Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes. “You shouldn’t swear. But, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just part of getting older,” I explained without going into depth.
“You feel like you just ran a race. You’re all sweaty. Do you need a cold washcloth? Sometimes my dad gives me a cold washcloth when I have a fever.” She jumped out of bed and ran out the bedroom door.
“But I don’t have a fever,” I said to nobody. I kicked the other leg out from under the covers and used the bottom of my T-shirt to wipe the band of sweat form my forehead. Chloe came back in and dabbed my forehead with a damp washcloth. A drip of cool water ran down my cheek, across my neck, and into my shirt making me shiver.
“What? Now you’re cold?” she asked, feeling my cheek.
“No.” I held the washcloth to my head. “Thanks,” I said. “I think this helps. I should remember this for the future.”
Chloe sat on the bed, cross-legged, staring at me. “If this is what it’s like to grow up, I think I’ll stay eight. You don’t look so good.”
“Thanks.”
“How often does this happen to you? I don’t think it happens to my mom, but how would I really know since I’m never really around her.”
Chloe babbled while I unfolded the washcloth to cover my face. When the heat subsided, I removed the terry towel and checked the clock on the night table. It was barely a few minutes past eight o’clock. Chloe’s binoculars were next to the clock. “Have you been looking for animals or birds? I bet it’s a little different than spying on the neighbors back home.”
“Actually …” She slowly enunciated at a sloth’s pace.
My T-shirt stuck to my back as I propped myself up against the headboard. Leaning forward against my knees, I worked it free. If Chloe hadn’t been here, I would’ve whipped it off at the first sign of inferno. “Actually, what?” I asked. “If you’re not going to tell me then I’ll go take a shower and brush my teeth.” The grit from beer and chocolate made me wince. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, but Chloe caught my arm. Her eyes were filled with question, her creased brow filled with curiosity.
“Um, well, don’t get mad at me, but last night when you snuck out …”
“Yeah, but I don’t think that since I’m an adult, going outside after dark is technically sneaking.” I wondered where she was going with this. “And—” I motioned with my hand for her to continue. “Get there faster,” I urged, “I really have to go to the bathroom.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Fine, go to the bathroom. This might take some time.” She shooed me away.
Hurrying into the hallway, I tiptoed to the bathroom, trying not to wake the boys or Judy, then slowly closed the door, and hurried to do my business. I washed my hands and splashed my face with cool water. When I opened the door, Chloe was standing there with her arms crossed, tapping her foot against the wood floor. I put my finger to my lips to remind her to be quiet. Her bare feet padded quietly behind me as I went back into the bedroom.
“Do you have any other business to do before we get started?” she asked.
I lifted my right eyebrow as she questio
ned me then sat on the bed, leaned back against the headboard, and crossed my legs. “So what’s this all about?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” she said, making herself comfortable by my feet.
I shrugged. “Not sure what you’re getting at. Does this have to do with Harry or Walter?”
“No.”
“Then who?” I asked.
“You know,” Chloe said, narrowing her gaze.
“Not really? You wanna clue me in?” My shoulders tightened up as I watched frustration build in her stare.
Chloe reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing Voodoo from the floor. She toppled over and landed with a thud.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching down trying to grab her, but missed. She rolled over, stood up, and moaned before pressing her lips together in disgust.
“Well that was embarrassing. Will I ever not be a dork?” she said, her cheeks a rosy pink.
“I told Judy kids still use that word. She didn’t believe me,” I said. “And to answer your question, we’re all dorks. Now what’s this about?”
Chloe took a deep breath. “I saw my dad carry you in last night through my binoculars. He only does that for me.”
Her tone bristled my nerves. “I was super tired from all that riding and I stayed up too late.” I didn’t mention all the beer I drank. “Your grandpa and I got to talking.” I wished for a diary and a pen to jot down some of the things he said. “I guess I wasn’t ready for bed and just wanted a few more minutes by the fire.” I pressed my lips together. “You know what it feels like when you don’t want the day to end.” The corner of Chloe’s mouth went up and a slow grin erupted.
“Yeah, that happens to me a lot,” she said, tapping her finger against her cheek.
There was a knock on the door.
Chloe and I both whispered, “Come in.”
Then in unison we chimed, “Jinx, you owe me a Coke.”
John stuck his head inside the room. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen me in my pajamas. I’d been caught several times chasing Bones in the morning hours or hunting for little girls who hide beneath the bushes.
“Just wanted to see if my girls were up,” he whispered.
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