by Dahlia West
Chapter Two
‡
Leah Pierce’s legs ached by the end of her shift at the gift shop. Summer break brought in the most families, young kids tossing the stuffed buffaloes back and forth until half of them ended up on the floor. They were cute though, and usually funny, and Leah didn’t hold it against them. She envied them, actually, not having any memories of being so carefree during her own childhood.
As the last stragglers paid for their purchases, Leah straightened the racks and shelves, finally stopping at a jewelry carousel that housed her own personal creations. She arranged the bracelets, earrings, and necklaces so that the afternoon sunlight caught the brightly colored stones as much as possible. The fire opals, turquoise, and shimmering glass beads tinkled against each other as she slowly spun the rack, looking for anything out of place. The Buffalo Bill Center of the West might not have been the Smithsonian, but Leah was determined to keep it pristine.
“These are so beautiful, Leah,” Mrs. Finley, her supervisor, said with a smile as she came up beside her and ran a hand along the jewelry.
A year ago, Leah would’ve assumed her boss was just being polite, but steady (albeit small) sales for the entire twelve months had bolstered Leah’s confidence considerably. Bumblebee Baubles wasn’t a big dream, as far dreams went, but it was her dream. Her best friend Candace had talked her into approaching Mrs. Finley to sell the little trinkets in the museum’s gift shop, and from there things grew, one tiny piece at a time.
“I have a few new sets that are almost finished,” Leah told her. “I’ll bring them in at the beginning of the week.”
“Enjoy your mini-vacation, dear!” called Mrs. Finley.
Leah waved and headed out the front door of the museum, into the baking noonday sun. The heat shimmered off the asphalt in the parking lot as she headed to the bus stop. She checked her watch and thought she might just have time to grab the Loop instead of the Downtown route, just enough time to stop by the dam before she went home to pack. She looked up at the sky which was darkening considerably. Huge storm clouds were coming in from the south end of town. It was impossible to tell how quickly it was moving though, or if it would miss Cody entirely.
Before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, she jumped onto the Loop and smiled at the driver before taking her seat. The sound of the large engine drowned out most of her own thoughts and within ten minutes, she was let off just outside of town at the Cody Dam. The emerald green waters of the huge reservoir rippled in the wind and Leah hurried across the parking lot, past the steel and glass Information Center to the concrete bridge that extended over the water and into the high rock face beyond.
Leah stood with the wind in her face and the water churning below her. Splintered timber butted up against the concrete side walls so thick that Leah imagined it might be possible to walk across it from one side to the other. Overhead, the dark clouds that had seemed so far away before gathered quickly now, rising up over the narrow valley and casting a long shadow. In the distance, thunder rumbled—a warning—but Leah didn’t heed it. She loved it here, and came whenever she could. It was one of her happiest memories from childhood, before things had all gone wrong and no passing storm was going to chase her, or her memories, away.
The wind kicked up, though, either oblivious to her presence or simply wanting her to leave. Another peal of thunder came so loud that it rang in her ears. Leah now realized she’d traversed the entire bridge and made it to the other side, but there was no shelter over here. The staircase down into the lower section had long since been padlocked off.
Across the bridge, someone came out of the Visitor Center just as a sheet of rain came tumbling down on top of them. Leah squinted and realized it was a woman, waving her arms frantically. Leah frowned up at the sky, which split at that moment when lightning streaked through the dark. Not afraid but still a bit unnerved at how quickly the storm was moving, Leah started back across the bridge, fighting the wind and grasping the waist-high wall for support.
She’d taken several steps toward the safety of the building when behind her, a sudden explosion ripped through the air, or at least that’s what it had sounded like. Leah fell, so startled was she by the cacophony behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see sparks flying. A lightning bolt had apparently hit the post of the chain link fence where she’d been standing just seconds ago.
Blinking at it in confusion, she heard another noise, or thought she did (the ringing in her ears was terrible at this point.) It was maybe a bird or a shriek of wind. Looking around she spotted the same woman, cowering against the side of the Visitor Center building. It took another moment for Leah to realize it wasn’t a bird crying out, it was her. She was gesturing wildly now.
Leah flattened herself against the flat concrete walkway and waited for the sky to light up around her again. This time it struck nothing, but the sharp scent of ozone filled her nose. When the resulting thunder started to rumble, Leah pushed off the ground, scrambled to her feet, and ran full tilt toward the screaming woman. The rain was coming down hard now and Leah was already soaked to the bone, hair plastered to her face.
She was late, she thought, as she sped toward the building. She really should’ve been home by now.
When she reached the end of the bridge, the woman snatched at Leah’s arm and pulled her toward the building’s front doors. They burst through them, together, while a few tourists stood huddled away from the windows, staring at them in disbelief.
“Oh, my God! Are you all right?” the woman screeched. “You could’ve been killed!”
Leah wrung out her shirt and simply nodded even though she didn’t agree. She couldn’t explain it and didn’t really want to, but Leah knew that death didn’t happen that way, at least not for her. Not quick and painless. Death was a long, slow, torturous process that took everything away by degrees until there was nothing left but that last gasp of air in the lungs. She also knew about luck, or rather, that she had none.
Leah Pierce was nowhere near lucky enough to be killed by a lightning strike.
Rarely able to come to the dam on Friday afternoons, she didn’t know this woman and had only seen her a handful of times. The woman was peering at her now as though Leah were crazy. Any minute, Leah thought, she might call the police.
“I didn’t think the storm was coming that fast,” Leah rambled while giving her a smile. “I had no idea.” The older woman stared at her with hard, uncertain eyes. Leah kept the smile plastered on and hoped for the best.
“You should wait out the worst of it here,” the lady finally said glancing toward the floor to ceiling windows of the gift shop.
Rain was pelting the glass and it was difficult to see the cars on the highway just a few hundred yards away. Trying to get home would be perilous, and according to the old woman, Leah had already defied death once this afternoon. She nodded and gave the woman another smile, this one sufficient enough to get the woman to leave her and head back behind the sales counter.
Standing by the door, Leah leaned her forehead against the smooth, cool glass and watched the rain pelt the water already being held in the reservoir. When she was younger, before they closed it off, her mom and dad had taken her on the tour far beneath the earth, to the interior of the dam itself. It had been cold and black with an elevator that went down, down, down, never seeming to end. Far from being scared, Leah had felt peaceful there, as though it were a preview of the afterlife—silence.
She’d been coming back ever since.
It wasn’t peaceful now, though, not with the thunder reverberating against the glass and the rain assaulting every flat surface outside. Leah waited for the heavy torrent to blow itself out and then smiled at the woman before sprinting out of the building and back to the road. She hopped on the Downtown bus and nervously checked her watch. She and Candace were supposed to leave soon and Leah wasn’t even finished packing.
Finally at her apartment complex off Sheridan Avenue, she flung herself into
the shared space and Candace gaped at her from the kitchen. “You’re drenched!” she called as Leah beat feet toward her bedroom.
“I know! Sorry! I’ll be out in five minutes!”
Her short hair dried quickly (the only thing good about it) and she flung her wet clothes over the shower rod before squirming into new ones. The trip was only overnight so she filled her small bag with a few odds and ends, folded the plastic-wrapped gown and placed it on top, and zipped the case closed. She left it in the living room and found Candace, still in the kitchen. As Leah closed the door of the refrigerator after pulling out a bottle of water, she stared at the medical report Candace had taped to the freezer door and blinked at it for a moment. It had been up for nearly two weeks but she mostly ignored it.
It felt strange to have it out like this, on display. Leah didn’t like it. It felt like a bird circling, a bad omen. But it made Candace happy—gloriously happy—and Leah didn’t have it in her heart to tell her to take it down.
“Are you all packed?” asked Candace, breaking Leah’s focus.
“Yeah. Yep. All packed and ready to go.”
“Awesome. You drive,” said her friend, handing over the keys. “I’ll drive us back.”
With their suitcases packed safely in the trunk, Leah headed into Yellowstone National Park, which was the quickest way to Jackson Hole in the summertime. In winter, those roads would be closed for the season, but aside from the winding curves the storm seemed to have left this part of the state untouched and driving was easy.
“You know,” said Candace, “you might get paired with a hot groomsman.”
Leah made a noncommittal noise from the driver’s side.
“That’s it!” Candace said suddenly, making Leah jump in her seat. “We’re going to make a list.”
“A list? For what? We brought everything we need. And it’s just overnight.”
“No, a list for you!”
Leah glanced at her. “I have everything I need.”
Candace snorted and Leah wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but she had a bad feeling. “Not even close.”
“I’ve got my dress, my shoes,” Leah replied cautiously.
“Not that kind of list.” Candace tore out the blank last page of the roadmap atlas and scribbled furiously at the top, then held it up triumphantly for Leah to read.
Reverse Bucket List.
Leah stifled a groan.
“Oh, come on, Leah. You know what you’ve gotta do. You’ve gotta live like—”
“Don’t say it,” Leah hissed. “I hate that song. You know I hate that song.”
Candace frowned. “We’re making a list anyway. And right at the top is fuck a cowboy with his boots on.”
Leah rolled her eyes but she had to admit that just the thought of it thrilled her heart into a faster beat. She glanced at Candace who was scribbling furiously. “Don’t put that!” she cried, waving a hand at the girl.
Candace snatched the pen and paper out of Leah’s reach. “Oh, yes we are!”
“Well…well don’t put…”
“What?”
“Fuck,” Leah half-whispered, feeling heat creep up on her cheeks. “Don’t write fuck!”
Candace laughed and Leah couldn’t help but giggle, too. “What should I write then?”
Leah squirmed in the driver’s seat as the hills undulated out the open window. “Make love.”
The brunette threw back her head and howled with laughter. “Make love? Trust me, honey. That’s not what you want to do. You want a man with tight jeans, and big hands, and a big—”
“Oh, don’t,” Leah groaned.
“And you don’t want him to make love to you,” Candace pressed.
Leah had trouble even picturing that happening to someone else, let alone herself. It didn’t seem likely, or that she’d be any good at it. It seemed overwhelming. And complicated. And likely to leave someone with injuries requiring hospitalization. “Let’s stick with making love. Write that down,” said Leah, capitulating to Candace’s damn list. “Write down make love to a cowboy with his boots on.”
“Leah,” Candace chastised.
Leah shook her head. “That’s all I’m ready for.”
Her best friend looked at her sharply, letting a long silence hang between them. “Baby steps,” she finally said firmly.
Leah hesitated, so used to staying quiet at any talk of the future.
Candace refused to look away.
“Baby steps,” Leah finally said softly, turning away from Candace and gazing the Tetons rising up over the horizon.
“We’re going to find you a cowboy this weekend,” Candace declared.
Perhaps. But would Leah even know what to do with him?
It was early in the evening when they finally arrived at their hotel. When Leah saw the stone walls and low, rough hewn beams she could practically hear her credit card screaming in agony.
“You only get married once, right?” asked Candace, hauling her suitcase out of the back. “I guess Becca’s parents went all out.”
“She better hope she only gets married once. Who could afford to stay here twice?” Leah replied, gazing at the Tetons framing the hotel. They were purple against a darkening blue sky. No signs of a storm all the way up here.
The lobby was quite large with a huge stone fireplace. Certainly it was the nicest place Leah had ever been. The staff seemed friendly, though, and Leah and Candace headed up to their shared room, suitcases trundling behind them. Neither of them could afford to tip a bellboy.
Candace set to work spreading out their clothes. Bridesmaid dresses for tomorrow morning and the dyed shoes to go with them. They were spring green, which didn’t thrill Candace but Leah didn’t mind at all.
“Dinner’s in less than hour,” said Candace, checking her phone. “Here. Put this on first,” She held up a black lace bra for Leah. Something about it looked different than Leah’s other undergarments, something other than the color and the added lace.
“What the—?” She reached out to take it and felt its padded cups. “Oh, no way!” she declared, trying to hand it back.
“Put it on,” Candace insisted again.
“A push up bra? You’ve got to be kidding me! There is no way I’m—”
“Oh, yes you are! It’s going to look great with the dress. Trust me.”
The dress was borrowed from Candace’s closet. It had a high neck, no sleeves, and was quite bit shorter than anything Leah was used to wearing. Then again, most of Leah’s dresses hung well below her knees, which she always considered slightly knobby. They were nothing compared to her pitiful and unattractive chest, though. So the deep-blue satin dress was a good compromise.
Several minutes later, standing in front of the mirror, Candace swept back Leah’s short, choppy hair that hadn’t quite grown in yet and attached a long hair piece that was close enough to Leah’s own color that it blended in. “I don’t look a thing like me,” she whispered.
Candace chucked her shoulder gently. “Of course you do. You look exactly like you, just without the dark circles under your eyes. This is you if you were permanently on vacation.”
Leah snorted. She’d never been on vacation even once, let alone forever.
“Maybe Anna or Carly can get married in Hawaii and we’ll get you into a bathing suit.”
Leah paled and met her friend’s eyes in the bathroom mirror.
“Baby steps,” Candace reminded her. With one final flourish, she opened the door and gestured for Leah to step through it first. “Let’s go get dinner, get drunk, and find you a cowboy with a nice pair of boots.”
Chapter Three
‡
Austin stood in front of the sink at the nicest hotel he’d ever stayed in and surveyed the damage he’d already done in just under an hour. Every towel in the room was now on the floor, all of them required for the gargantuan task of getting him clean. The sink was now full of the remnants of his Grizzly Adams beard. His hair could still use a trim but
he didn’t think his skills had gotten any better since that time he was six and gave himself a buzzcut with his father’s electric razor.
He clipped enough out of his eyes so that he didn’t look like a Canadian pop singer and left the rest of it well enough alone. All in all, he didn’t look too bad. His jeans were new and so was his shirt. Maybe if he smiled enough, women wouldn’t look too closely at his hair. It seemed a shame to waste time at a stuffy old dinner. Honestly, he’d rather just skip the whole shindig altogether. He was much more interested in the After Party he intended to hold in his room.
Seized by impulse and a desire for freedom, he shoved his wallet into his back pocket and hurried to the door. Austin grasped the door handle and pulled it open, only to find Walker standing there, scowling at him.
“Oh, good,” the man said with a quirk of his lips. “You’re ready.”
Austin scowled at him. He was ready for something, but it wasn’t over cooked steak and speechifying. He ran his hand through his freshly dried hair and tugged at the cuffs of his button down shirt.
“You look better,” Walker assured him as they made their way to the elevators. “Though…you couldn’t have looked worse. I’m sure the crowd will stay and listen to you speak now instead of running toward the Emergency Exit.”
“We could skip it altogether and avoid pandemonium, just in case.”
“Fat chance.”
“It’d be our civic duty,” Austin wheedled.
Walker pressed the down button and shook his head. “Just keep it short. It won’t kill you. I promise.”
Austin vowed to keep his part as short and to-the-point as possible as he stepped into the empty elevator car. On the way down, they stopped at the next floor. When the doors slid open, two young women hesitated, staring at Austin and his brother. Austin reached out and put his hand on the door, holding it open. He flashed them a smile. “Getting…on, ladies?”
Behind him, Walker grunted but Austin ignored him.