by Jeannie Watt
“It seemed the polite thing to say,” Jolie replied honestly.
“Hmm.” Mike looked out over the field where Karen was happily grazing. “Often all politeness does is hide true feelings.”
Jolie’s muscles tensed but her tone was casual as she said, “I think that’s why it was invented.”
“What are your true feelings?”
Another shock wave at the bald question and as Jolie turned toward him, her expression probably bordering on incredulous, he added, “I’m old. I don’t have time to pussyfoot around.”
“I think you have plenty of time left on this earth,” Jolie responded. When Mike showed no sign of being sidetracked, she said, “No offense intended, but that’s between Dylan and me.”
“You know he was betrayed pretty badly by that...woman...he married.” He said the word in a way that told Jolie woman was not his first noun choice.
“Yes.”
Another long silence, broken only by the sound of grass being rhythmically torn from the ground as the cattle grazed. Finally, Mike said, “You’re right. This is none of my business.”
“Thank you.”
“My life kind of ended when Helen died.”
Jolie pressed her lips together. “I imagine.”
“I bet your life kind of ended when your dad died. You were pretty young.”
“It wasn’t a pleasant time.”
“He wouldn’t have wanted it to color your entire existence, you know.”
It took her a moment to find her voice. “I know you mean well. I know you care for Dylan. But, Mike, I need you to drop this subject. I won’t talk about it.” She pulled a sharp breath in through her nose. “I can’t talk about it.”
Mike pushed off from the fence and before he started back toward his truck said darkly, “But maybe you can think about it.”
Think about it she did. Jolie thought about it as she worked and she thought about it when she trained. No matter how resolutely she pushed the thought aside, it rammed its way back into her brain.
Thank you, Mike.
It’d pass.
It had to pass. And in the meantime she continued to pour all her excess energies into the ranch. The garden, which had been Allie’s pride and joy, was once again tilled and seedlings were popping up in the long rows, but the heavy rains that had started a few days ago were now threatening to drown them out and was also creating perpetually muddy areas in the barn where the water was pouring through. Ironically, just before the rain had started, she’d received an estimate for materials to reroof the barn and decided it would be a while before she could quit working at the bar at night.
But that was all right because it helped fill her time.
Sometimes she felt as if she was existing instead of living. But, try as she would, she couldn’t come up with an answer to the problem except the one she’d been giving herself daily for the past month.
It’ll pass.
Her question was...when?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SINCE MIKE HAD made the feed store his second home and Gordy was hired on full-time for the rest of the summer to handle the warehouse, Jolie spent the month of July focused on rodeos, taking more days off than she probably should, given her need for a new barn roof. The rodeos gave her something to focus on, something positive that kept her from thinking about Dylan...or his job. She did enough of that during the night when she drifted off and no longer had iron control over her thoughts.
The dreams came, dark and vivid, and more than once she woke up reaching for Dylan, only to find an empty bed, which emphasized the shattering sense of loss the dreams brought to her.
She and Faith traveled together whenever possible, sharing the costs and talking about everything under the sun—even relationships, but that was a one-sided conversation because although she listened, she didn’t contribute. Faith, of course, noticed, and Jolie was well aware, but the beauty of a close friend was that sometimes they let things like that lie. As Faith did. That allowed Jolie to continue to travel with her.
But after three weeks passed and despite refusing to talk about all the many things that her mind grabbed on to and tortured her with during the night, Jolie was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to settle. Ever going to feel normal again. She’d expected time to make things better, as it eventually had after her father had died. But time did not seem to be helping her issues with Dylan or his job. Breaking off with him wasn’t even close to the trauma she felt after her dad’s fatal heart attack, which left her wondering what the deal was. Why wasn’t she feeling better? Was she pushing too much? Expecting too much?
Thinking too much?
Definitely the latter, but all the same...shouldn’t something give?
The only positive was that she’d won enough money to cover her travel expenses and then some. She poured all of her energy and emotion into her runs and Jenabelle responded. They’d become unbeatable. At a price.
She and Faith went to dinner and drinks with a group of rodeo competitors in Havre after she’d won a particularly large purse, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a little like her old self. She didn’t drink, because she was driving, but she laughed and danced and played a mean game of shuffleboard while wearing her opponent’s hat. But even though she felt more lighthearted than she had in about a month, when Faith made a nod toward the door, Jolie handed the guy back his hat and gathered up her purse with no sense of regret.
“I didn’t expect you to agree to leave so soon.” And, indeed, there’d been many times in college when Faith would be ready to go home about the time Jolie was just warming up.
“I’ve changed,” she said as they got into the truck. “Grown up, I guess.”
“Or something is eating the hell out of you,” Faith commented as she got into the passenger seat.
Or that. Jolie jammed the key in the ignition and they drove to the rodeo grounds, got into their sleeping bags and Jolie pretended to fall asleep because she didn’t want to talk. Not even a little bit.
That night she came awake with a start, and even though she couldn’t remember the dream, she knew it had to do with Dylan. Losing Dylan. It always did.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Her standard answer. Of course she was okay. She was always okay. She’d survived one of life’s biggest traumas and she was fine.
She rolled over in her bag, unable to settle after the disturbing dream.
She wasn’t fine.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she finally said, her voice low enough that if Faith had fallen back asleep, it probably wouldn’t wake her.
“I’ve noticed.”
“It’s complicated.” Faith shifted in her sleeping bag so she was facing Jolie, but she didn’t say anything. She waited, just as Dylan had done, allowing Jolie to decide how much she wanted to spill. “It’s got to do with Dylan and being afraid of his new job...being afraid of losing him.”
“I thought you guys broke up.”
“We did.” Jolie’s voice sounded small. “I’m still afraid of something happening to him.”
“That’s a reasonable fear, given his job.”
“I care for him, Faith. And if something happens to him, then it’s still going to tear me up, even if we aren’t together. So why can’t I just put on my big-girl panties and take this chance? Why am I so frozen up?”
“Have you talked to anyone about this?”
“You mean like a professional?”
“Or anyone? Are you just bottling this up? Taking the problem out and admiring it and then putting it away again?”
Jolie closed her eyes. “Maybe.”
A long silence fell then Faith said, “You might want to do something about that.”
“I might.”
; “You know that I’ll listen any time you want to talk.” Jolie nodded even though Faith couldn’t see her in the darkness. “No pressure.”
“Thanks,” Jolie said softly, feeling both relieved and self-conscious. She continued to lie on her back until her eyes drifted shut and the next thing she knew sunlight was filtering in through the gooseneck window and it was time to feed Jenabelle prior to starting the drive home.
She and Faith grabbed breakfast, laughed when they saw two of the guys they’d gone to dinner with slowly ambling toward the rodeo grounds, looking as if they’d just finished a very rough ride.
They kept the conversation light on the way home and when Jolie dropped Faith off in Dillon, she felt better. Stronger. And in need of a call to her mother. She had questions. Questions she’d never thought to ask. Questions she now needed answers to.
She waited until after she’d fed her animals and nuked a frozen dinner before settling in her chair and dialing her mother.
Anne answered on the first ring.
“Thank goodness one of my kids is checking in.”
“We check in plenty,” Jolie said with a smile. “How are you doing?”
“I’m well. As is Richard. What’s up?”
Damn. This mother radar was something. Jolie found that it was just as hard to force the question out as she’d thought it would be, since it would no doubt cause her mother to ask deep, probing questions in return. So she danced around the issue a little.
“What made you decide to remarry?”
“I...” Jolie could almost see her mother’s thoughtful frown as she ran through the possible reasons that Jolie might be asking this question. “There were a number of reasons.”
“Were you in love?”
“Yes. Why?”
Jolie shrugged even though her mother couldn’t see it. “People get married for a lot of reasons. Financial security. Companionship—”
“Love.”
Jolie hated to admit it, but that wasn’t the answer she wanted. “How did you...were you...able to take the chance again?”
There. The question was out and the silence that followed made Jolie’s stomach tighten a little. “Chance? It wasn’t like your father and I divorced.”
“I know...but he died.”
She heard her mother exhale softly into the phone. “What’s going on, Jolie?”
“Nothing.” The answer came so quickly that it sounded exactly like the lie that it was and thus perfectly represented her chosen strategy to deal with pain. Denial. “No. There’s something. I’m having trouble getting over the fear of losing someone.” There. She’d said it. And it was as hellish as she’d thought it would be saying the words out loud to her mother who was no doubt going to riddle her with questions.
Instead she got an, “Ah.”
“I’ve never had this problem before.”
“Are you sure?”
Jolie frowned. “Yes.”
Another short silence then her mother said, “I think you have.”
“How could I have when I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before?”
Again she expected the “Who?” and instead got, “Why is this the first time?”
“I don’t understand.”
“After your dad died, you were the least reactive.”
“Everyone grieves differently.”
“That’s what I told myself. But you were the baby. The one closest to Dave, the one who’d had the least amount of time with him.”
Jolie blinked a little. “Yes.”
“The other girls got angry at him for dying. They expressed.”
“What did I do?” Because, honestly, she couldn’t remember. That time in her life was oddly blank as far as memories went, except for that moment in the hospital when she’d gotten the news that her father wasn’t walking out that door with them.
“Nothing. It scared me to death. You talked to a grief counselor at school who told me that you’d grieve in your own time in your own way.”
“I grieved.” Her mother didn’t reply and she said, “I think about him all the time.”
“You didn’t cry. You didn’t let anything out. Sometimes you have to cry, Jolie. Sometimes you have to let yourself feel pain in order to get over it.”
“I’m feeling pain,” Jolie snapped. “Every single day.”
“Feeling pain? Or focusing on the cause and avoiding the pain?”
“I don’t know,” Jolie said after a long pause. “I...need to think on this for a while.”
“Promise me that this isn’t the end of this matter. That you’ll talk to me or your sisters. Or anyone.”
“It’s not the end, Mom. I fully plan to work through this.” Because she couldn’t continued living as she was now. “I need to go now. Think.” Process.
“I love you,” she said before hanging up the phone.
She’d grieved. She knew that she had... Hadn’t she?
No, she hadn’t gotten angry at her father for leaving her. And, no, she couldn’t remember crying, but as the grief counselor had said, everyone grieves in their own way.
In their own time.
But when had her time been? She had a feeling that it had either been in all the years between her father’s death and now...or not at all. Because she now had this deep feeling that maybe she hadn’t dealt with it. Maybe she’d shoved things down deep and left them there to fester.
* * *
AT SOME POINT Dylan was going to have to find his own place, but at the moment staying in Mike’s guest room suited both of them. Mike had enough of a social life with his weekly poker game and the store that he didn’t need Dylan there babysitting, but Dylan had a strong feeling that Mike thought he was taking care of him. So he stayed.
In the evenings when Dylan wasn’t on shift they watched television and every now and again Mike would comment on Dylan’s lack of social life. But he was very careful never to mention Jolie in conjunction with a social life. Mike knew something had happened between them. Something that had put Dylan in a distant mood that he had to fight to hide. Since it was ridiculously easy to put two and two together, Dylan said nothing about Jolie or a breakup and neither did Mike.
But that didn’t stop Mike from studying him when he thought he wasn’t looking, as if he was debating his next course of action. Dylan held his tongue, didn’t tell his grandfather to stay out of it. If he did, then he was pretty certain Mike would get worried enough to actually try to interfere.
To preserve a feeling of normalcy in their lives, Dylan would ask about the store and Mike would answer in superficial terms. Then they would settle into their chairs and Dylan would wonder what the hell he was going to do about Jolie even though the inevitable conclusion was that there wasn’t much he could do. She’d booted him out of her life and he couldn’t exactly demand to be welcomed back in.
He did have a knack for choosing difficult women to love.
* * *
THE RAIN WAS causing havoc throughout the county and most of western Montana. The rivers were rising and a mudflow had damaged several houses built too close to a hillside denuded by a fire the previous summer. Dylan has spent a night helping people evacuate the area and keeping opportunists from coming in and looting the homes once they were abandoned.
Other than that, Dylan spent most of his patrol time on the roads near the rising river, gauging whether or not they needed to be closed and keeping an eye on the properties that would be most affected and most in need of emergency services. Some places were already sandbagging and as the rain continued, he was certain there’d be more.
“I’m worried about our place,” Mike said when Dylan had told him that the Forty-nine Ranch was partially under water. “The creek is coming up fast.”
And that it was. The
usually placid Berry Creek that wound its way along the edge of town and then fed into the small lake near the center of the valley was lapping at the tops of its banks and flowing with alarming velocity. “Marion and Joe are going to start to fill sandbags tomorrow.”
Dylan had wondered about the load of sand in the neighbors’ driveway.
“I don’t think the creek is going to prove that much of a threat.”
“It’s spilled over its banks before,” Mike said and Dylan acknowledged that his grandfather would know better than he, who’d grown up on the opposite side of the valley.
“At least the store’s okay.”
“I have flood insurance for the store.”
“It’s not near a river,” Dylan pointed out with a frown.
“Probably why the insurance was so cheap,” Mike said, smiling a little. “Comprehensive package.” He sighed and clicked off the television as Dylan got up and shrugged into his rain coat.
“You know,” he said. “The rain was one reason I wasn’t unhappy to leave Lanesburg.”
“Into each life...” Mike stated.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dylan felt as if he’d had enough rain of either kind for a while. He still missed Jolie too freaking much and there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. She was scared of losing people she loved and he had no answers to comfort her. Just a frustrated knot in his gut whenever he thought about her, which was all the time.
He’d barely reached his SUV when a call came in that someone had tried to cross a flooded road and their car had been washed sideways into a tree. Cool. And he was certain that was just the beginning of his interesting day.
And so it was. He dealt with lost chickens, a couple of minor fender benders, two more aborted floodwater crossings and one long-ass argument with a citizen who thought that rising water gave him the right to park on his neighbor’s lawn.
He ended up working a double shift due to various county-wide emergencies and came home exhausted. Jess Moody did him a favor and swung by the Lightning Creek to make certain everything was all right on that side of the valley. Jess reported back that all was well and that Jolie had come out of the house barefoot in the rain to see what he wanted.