Definitely, Maybe in Love

by Ophelia London

  His face was smudged with dirt, his hair dark from sweat. And those eyes, just looking into them for the briefest of moments made me feel breathless.

  “I swear,” I said in a lower voice, “I wouldn’t have come here if I knew… I hope you don’t think—”

  “I don’t think anything.”

  I nodded, my neck sweating.

  “Well,” Henry said, pointing to the side, “I’d better get this back.” He smiled faintly, hoisted the saddle to his shoulder and rushed away.

  Deep inside my stomach, a hamster on its wheel was running record time, while my body remained planted in place as firmly as a redwood. After a while, that hamster transformed itself into volcanic lava, creeping like The Blob from the pit of my stomach up the walls of my esophagus.

  “That did not just happen,” I whispered. Panting aloud, I staggered out from the center of traffic and supported myself against the side of a split-rail fence, clutching a post. “Tell me,” I gazed toward heaven, “tell me that did not just happen.” I jammed the heels of my hands into my eyes, cringing and agonizing, remembering a distant past that I couldn’t block out: Henry covered in cranberries… In my bedroom… By campfire light. Henry looking stunned when he thought I didn’t love him back.

  Henry…in a cowboy hat?

  “Mel,” I whispered. “Melanie Gibson!” I called out as I stepped away from the fence and spun around, scanning the area for my missing cohort. A boy leading a pony by a rope gave me the strangest look. “Mel!” I yelled, ignoring the stares. “Where are you?”

  “Spring?”

  I spun around.

  Her worried eyes inspected me, then she rolled them. “Cause a scene, why don’t you.”

  “C’mon.” I pulled her arm. “We have to leave.”

  “No.” She yanked me back. “Have you seen all the cute guys here? They’re so rugged and dirty. Melly’s idea of heaven. I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to”—she adjusted her bra—“ride a horse.”

  I covered my mouth with both hands, letting out a little shriek.

  Mel’s smirk fell. “What’s your problem?”

  “What was I thinking?” I said through my fingers. “What possessed me?”

  She grabbed my arm. “Babe?”

  “He was here. He was standing right here.”

  “Who?”

  “And he was all sweaty and filthy and carrying this thing on his shoulder. In a cowboy hat, Mel. A cowboy hat.”

  “Springer.” She squared herself in front of me. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Henry,” I whispered. “He was here. Is here.”

  Mel released me and raised a crooked smile. “You don’t say.”

  “It’s unforgivable for me to be here. He thinks I’m a creeper.” I covered another shriek with my hands. “I didn’t want to see him again like this. We have to go,” I begged through clenched teeth. “Now. Please.”

  “All right, all right. But the shuttle down isn’t for another two hours.”

  I pounded my fists against my head.

  “Spring.” Mel laughed. “It’s not the end of the world.”

  I stopped pounding long enough to glare at her.

  “Oh.” She tittered. “Maybe it is. Come on, babe.” She took my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I nodded, exhausted from exerted emotion, and smoothed the hair out of my face.

  “We’ll walk back to the car,” she said. “You could use some more air, yeah?”

  With her arm around me, we set off. We hadn’t taken thirty steps before I heard my name being called. Pretending I didn’t hear it, I kept walking, faster, pulling Mel along. She stopped abruptly and yanked my arm, causing me to spin a very inelegant about-face.

  “Spring,” Henry said, trotting toward us. “Hey, Mel.”

  Mel stared at him, looking a little stunned. Then she giggled under her breath. “Hi, Henry.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  When I didn’t answer immediately, Mel jabbed a finger into my ribs. I jumped and squeaked. “We’re uh, we’re just…” I aimed my gaze down the hill.

  “You’re leaving?”

  He was much tidier now. In the ten minutes since he’d left me, he’d lost the hat, chaps and saddle, and changed into a dark green T-shirt and faded jeans. His face was clean and his usually immaculate curly hair appeared as if it had been hastily combed through with wet fingers. Much to my dismay, he looked sexier than even my imagination thought possible.

  “You just got here,” he pointed out. “Have you seen the horses or any of the shows?”

  “No, umm…”

  “You need to see the horses. Do you ride?” His brown eyes were moving back and forth between Mel and me. I think I nodded at his question, but who knows. “I’ve been dying to take a ride. We should all go.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mel’s smile widen. “We’d love that!” she exclaimed. I jerked her arm. She poked me back. “I just love horses.”

  I forced one side of my mouth into some kind of smile. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Great.” His hands were on his hips and, like me, he was breathing a little hard, maybe from his run down the hill. “Why don’t you two stay over at the house tonight? There’s plenty of room.”

  I mumbled some kind of refusal that apparently no one heard.

  “Fab!” Mel beamed.

  “We’re having fireworks over the lake for The Fourth,” he said. “My parents are due in tomorrow night, but Dart and Lilah are coming in later today.” His gaze held on me for an extra second.

  “I just love Lilah,” Mel said with exaggerated enthusiasm.

  “It’s settled, then. Where’s your car?”

  “Where the bus picked us up,” I answered.

  “Keys?” he prompted, holding out his open hand. I dug in my pocket and handed them over. “I’ll meet you up at the house. Twenty minutes.” He shot off like a cannon.

  Still pretty stunned, I kept my eyes locked on him until he disappeared down the hill.

  “If the boy keeps up that speed,” Mel noted, “he’ll make Canada by nightfall.”

  “Thanks a lot, Mel,” I snapped, wheeling around. “What did you do that for?”

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.” She grinned.

  “We can’t stay here. It’s too weird. I…can’t…” My voice petered out helplessly.

  “It’s cool. He invited us. If he never wanted to see you again, he wouldn’t have bothered. He’s not that polite. So, this is good, right?”

  I tried to nod, but a tiny, high-pitched whimper seeped out of my mouth as she took my arm and led me up the hill.

  “Spring Honeycutt, the way he was looking at you. Woo.” She fanned her face. “I really do need a cigarette now.”

  “He didn’t recognize me at first.”

  Mel ran her hand down the back of my hair, then grabbed a fist-full. “Can you blame him?” She put an arm around my shoulders. “Look, we don’t want to be rude, so we’re stuck here. Just think about it that way. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed as we made our way toward the house. “I shudder to imagine what he’s thinking right now.”

  “Oh, babe,” she said, giving me a little squeeze. “I know exactly what he’s thinking.”

  Chapter 32

  “The one by the fence is a solid seven,” Mel said. “I could do without the mullet, but…when in Rome.”

  Mel and I waited in front of the three-level-stacked house with the wrap-around porch. Flanked by tall pines and quaking aspens, it backed up to a skyline of pointy, tree-covered ridges. The whole scene was very picturesque in front of the wide blue Montana sky.

  A lop-eared chocolate lab padded over. Mel knelt down, taking its face between her hands. Dangling off its collar, the dog had a red and silver tag. “Its name is Spring,” she said, reading the tag.

  My hand flew to my throat. “Are you serious?”

  She laughed, petting the dog behind the ears
. “I’m just messing with you. Calm down. You look like you’re about to stroke out.”

  “I might need you to check my vitals in a minute.” I was only half kidding.

  Mel knew I wasn’t in the mood for a talk, so she’d been occupying herself by checking out then rating the ranch hands as they paraded by.

  “And this one’s a ten-plus,” she murmured, ogling over a blond cowboy in tight jeans.

  I laughed, grateful for the distraction, until I heard the familiar sputter of my car. Knowing Henry would reappear in a matter of seconds, my heart went banging like a bass drum. Just as he and my Subaru came roaring up the driveway, another car arrived, pulling up behind it. Henry was walking, already halfway to me, when the passenger side of the blue BMW flew open.

  “You,” Lilah said, staring across the driveway at me. “What are—” She cut herself off, turned her chin to glance at Henry, then back at me. Slowly, her puckered lips stretched, revealing a very toothy smile. “How amazing. You’re here, too.” She rushed to me, overtaking Henry. That was weird. “Henry didn’t tell us you’d be here.” She cast her glance over her shoulder at him. “Naughty boy.”

  Henry stood in place, watching me, gauging my reaction. Was he afraid I was going to pummel her? Well, maybe the thought did cross my mind, but after I gave him a tiny nod, he walked back to the cars.

  “Spring, hey!” Dart waved from the driveway. “Hi, Mel. Still rockin’ that Cardinal crimson?” He pointed at her Stanford T-shirt.

  “Yeah, boy!” Mel extended her arms like a cheerleader.

  “Lilah.” Dart sounded frustrated. “Get your own bags. I’m not your slave.”

  Lilah’s painted-on smile tightened for an instant before turning to her brother. “Coming,” she replied sweetly. “We must catch up later, dear.” The old sneer was back, which made me more at ease than her smile had.

  Henry was behind my car, his expression puzzled, staring at my keys in his hand.

  “Maybe you should give him a hand,” Mel suggested.

  I moved toward the Subaru. “It’s the silver one,” I said, coming up beside him, “with the square head.”

  “Thanks,” he said, his eyes on the keys. He popped open the hatchback door.

  Mel was hanging back by the porch steps, knowing that, left to my own devices, I would not be aggressive enough in my present state to arrange being alone with Henry. And I’m sure she knew that was what I needed most in the world.

  Lilah was a different story. Even with no one answering her, she was prattling away as she dragged two huge suitcases from the trunk.

  My mouth was ajar, ready to speak as I watched Henry fishing around through my cluttered trunk area. Even if I did manage to get my mouth to work, I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry” didn’t seem sufficient, but I had to start somewhere.

  “Yours?” he asked from halfway inside my car. He was holding up my Green Peace tote bag. Under other circumstances, I might’ve been embarrassed by all the empty cans, bottles, and Mel’s “emergency” candy wrappers that were strewn about the seats and floor.

  “Yes,” I replied. The rest of his body was already on the way out, Mel’s knock-off Gucci suitcase in his other hand. He stood, facing me, a bag in each hand. “Thank you,” I said, tucking the front of my hair behind an ear.

  Henry’s head tilted as he regarded me. “This is surreal,” he offered, though it seemed like he wished for a different word. “Listen, can we—”

  That was all he got out before Lilah came from behind, dominating the conversation. He shot me a quick glance before he followed Lilah and Mel up the porch and through the front door. I closed the hatchback, shut the driver’s door with my hip and jiggled my car keys, not sure what to do next.

  “Hey, Spring,” Dart said, enfolding me in a quick and friendly hug.

  “It’s so good to see you,” I said, hugging him back. His T-shirt was warm from the sun.

  “Long day?”

  “It’s barely noon,” I replied. “Too early to be long.”

  He laughed at my non-joke and, for maybe two seconds, stared at me. I could almost see what I thought he might be envisioning: Julia standing at my side. His eyes refocused a moment later.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  “Fine, fine. You?”

  He smiled, running his hand through his stylishly unkempt light hair. “Fine, fine,” he echoed. We both turned toward the house at the sound of Lilah’s laugh.

  The Knightly home was huge from the outside, like the grand fortress atop a hill that it was. On the inside, however, it was much more subtle. There were no ornate Persian rugs, crystal chandeliers, or silk draperies. Instead, the rustic, western décor was warm and welcoming.

  When Dart and I entered, Lilah was acting as hostess, pointing out interesting items as we passed. Henry was nowhere to be found, leaving only Mel to pay attention to Lilah. She was such a trooper. She winked at me then quickly turned back to Lilah, nodding and tapping her chin, enthralled.

  I lingered in the vestibule, taking in the many focal points of the room.

  Past the gray stone-tiled entryway, the floors were light hardwood, covered with thick rugs in various primary colors. Our stack of suitcases was piled at the foot of an open, switch-back staircase. Brown and white-marbled hides and miscellaneous buckskins were draped over the banisters of the second and third floor landings that opened up to overlook the living room. Directly over the brick fireplace was a pair of antlers.

  Maybe five minutes later, Henry’s voice came from behind me, whispering my name. When I turned around, half his body was around a corner. He motioned with his finger for me to follow.

  From the familiar scent of clean mixed with spice, I knew he’d just showered and shaved. He’d also changed clothes again and was now in a white T-shirt and dark jeans. I had a hard time remembering the days when all he wore were Armani suits and argyle sweaters. Both extremes seemed fitting on him.

  “Do you have a second?” he asked once we were alone in the hallway.

  “Sure,” I said, more relieved than I’d felt in months. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with him, to talk to him, to explain, if I possibly could.

  “My sister wants to meet you.”

  “Oh.” I blinked, not exactly disappointed. I’d been curious about Cami for a long time.

  Henry took a step back and leaned his elbow against the wall in a very relaxed manner. “Just to warn you, she’s a little shy, enormously socially awkward, but she’s also your biggest groupie.”

  “Shut up,” a soft yet irritated voice came from the crack in the door behind him.

  “My groupie?” I whispered. “How does she know about me?”

  “I’ve mentioned you once or twice,” he explained. “Spring”—he pushed open the door—“this is my sister, Cami.”

  Camille Knightly stepped into the hall. Her big brown eyes regarded me through a row of thick black lashes. Naturally blushing, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup; she didn’t need it. She had the same dark brown hair as her brother, waving past her shoulders, and she stood about five-three, no more than a hundred pounds. The girl was as cute as a button, the prettiest little thing outside the pages of a Seventeen magazine.

  The way Alex had portrayed her, I’d half expected Cami to be some uppity and pampered, social climbing brat, more like Lilah Charleston and her sorority clones. But that was nothing like this delicate eighteen-year-old in faded jean capris and a pale yellow peasant top.

  “Hi, Cami. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said, a little stiffly. She didn’t need to be embarrassed, but her brother, who was playfully jabbing her in the back to move forward, probably wasn’t making it easier.

  “Henry,” I said, “would you grab my backpack from the front seat?” I dangled my car keys in front of him. “You can leave it in the living room and I’ll meet you later?”

  His lips pressed together, forcing upon me his oh-so-scary ic
y expression. But his eyes were grinning approvingly. He took my keys and gave Cami one last poke before leaving.

  “I have two brothers,” I said. “I know they can be a pain.”

  “He’s always trying to embarrass me,” she said in the direction he’d just bolted. “Especially around his friends. He still thinks I’m nine.”

  “He’s just teasing. I think my brothers were put on earth to torture me.” I lifted a smile, doing my best to help her feel comfortable. “I’ve been teased plenty of times by your brother, too. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, it doesn’t.”

  Voices from the living room were drawing nearer. Lilah’s little tour must be heading our way. I wasn’t willing to move yet, not until Cami was.

  “So, I hear you’re thinking of going to Cal Berkeley next year. You sure about that?” I made a face. “You know they’re just a bunch of communists down there,” I joked, presenting to her the bitter rivalry between Cal and Stanford.

  Cami laughed harder that I thought applicable. “That’s so funny. That’s exactly what Trip said.”

  “You call him Trip, too?”

  She shrugged her slight shoulders. “When he’s around other people, he likes to think he’s some big thing, but up here, he’s just loser Trip.”

  “I love it!” I laughed.

  “What kind of car do you drive?”

  “It’s a Subaru Outback,” I said, surprised at the question. Cami seemed a little disappointed at my answer. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. The way Trip talked, I thought maybe you had a hybrid or an electric car.”

  “I hope to someday.”

  “I get my first new car next month,” she said. “Anything I want.”

  “Have you decided?” Knowing her brother, I wondered if she would go the insanely expensive route like the Viper, the sporty route like his Jeep, or something more conventional…like a nice, medium-sized spaceship.

  “My first choice is the Smart Car.” This floored me, though I tried not to let it show. “Dad and I made a test drive a few weeks ago, but he says it’s too impractical, because I can only fit in one passenger. So I’m getting a Prius. Red, I think. Or blue. What do you think?”