Chemistry Lessons

by Rebecca H Jamison

  “Thank you,” Tanner said, ending his speech to a thunder of applause.

  Anger roared inside her, anxious to escape. She knew what she had to do, and it terrified her, but with her pulse pounding in her temples, she limped up the stairs to the podium on the stage.

  She adjusted the microphone to the proper position and addressed the crowd. “I’d like to add something—”

  Betty clicked off the switch at the base of the mic. “I’m sorry,” she said, her bangles jingling. “You have to sign up ahead of time, honey. It’s the rules.” She pointed to a list on her clipboard.

  “It’ll only take a minute,” Rosie insisted. “And I’m probably the only one speaking in Destry’s favor.”

  “Normally, I would let you,” Betty said. “But there are so many speakers today.”

  With that, Rosie stepped to the side of the podium and raised her voice. She didn’t need a microphone. “You all know I love Lone Spur,” she shouted, “and you also know things aren’t always perfect. Tanner can paint our town as a sort of Mayberry, where everyone is perfect and happy, but we all know it isn’t true. People here have their share of problems, just like they do in other places. Having access to Destry’s facility will be a great asset to our community.” A metallic, high-pitched whine echoed through the auditorium, interrupting her and causing some in the audience to cover their ears. Someone was trying to get her to stop talking.

  When the squeal died down, Betty spoke into the mic. “The next speaker will be Jade Harris.” Jade stood at Betty’s side.

  To her right, Rosie saw the sheriff approaching, his eyes riveted on her, but she did her best to ignore him.

  “Lone Spur is my favorite town on earth,” she shouted. “There’s a feeling I get when I’m walking all by myself in the middle of the fields, looking out at the mountains or up at the night sky. I wish more people could experience that. And there’s room for more people here. A lot of room. If Lone Spur really is a national treasure, why can’t we turn it into a place of healing for a few people from other places?”

  The sheriff stood beside her now, his hands on his hips.

  Confident she had said all she wanted, she gazed across the crowd. “Thank you.”

  She stepped down from the stage and marched up the side aisle, pushing past her neighbors and students. A few people standing in the back hooted and applauded for her. Were they giving her a standing ovation? Glancing across the auditorium, she saw that Janessa was one of them. It must have been some kind of joke.

  As Jade began to speak, Rosie exited the room. She didn’t notice that Tanner followed her until she had stepped out the side door of the high school into the dusky night. “That wasn’t fair of Betty,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her from retreating any farther. “I’m going to see if I can get you added to the list of speakers. That’s what town hall meetings are for. People need to be able to share their opinions.”

  She yanked her arm away and stood with both hands on her hips. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair. It’s not fair for you to label me in front of the whole town as the mother of your future children. I thought you understood that I only want to be friends.”

  “And I thought you understood that I’m not giving up on our relationship.” He sounded much calmer than Rosie felt. “I’m doing this for you, you know. You’re the one who’s scared of driving on the same road as Janessa. It won’t help if we bring in more people with the same issues.”

  “It also won’t help if we ignore the problem.” She spat out her words as if they burned her tongue. “Someone has to do something to prevent the kind of tragedy my family experienced. At least Destry is trying.”

  She turned and limped toward the overfilled parking lot, though as she got closer to it, she remembered that she hadn’t brought a car. She had come with Tanner. For a long time after her Grandma was killed, it had scared her to drive on busy roads at night, much less to walk on them. Today, though, she had no fear. Her anger fueled her courage. She hobbled down the road that led away from the school, anxious to separate herself from Tanner.

  Behind her, she heard the hum of a truck engine, and Tanner drove up beside her. She kept walking as he rolled his windows down. “I don’t need a ride,” she called. “You can go on home.”

  He followed her, driving at a slow pace and yelling over the hum of the engine. “I just want to say one thing. Maybe you’re right, and we shouldn’t get married. But I still want to help you buy the ranch.”

  She stopped and faced him. “You want to be business partners?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew of other friends investing in ranches together. The only problem was that she didn’t know whether she and Tanner could go back to being friends. He’d burned that bridge on so many levels. She had a hard time feeling anything more for him that disgust at the moment.

  Tanner leaned over to open the passenger-side door. “We can split up the property if you want. I’ll take a few fields to run cattle. You can have the house and whatever acreage you need to keep your pets.”

  What he said made sense. She still had money coming in from the art auction—it might be enough to buy a house on her own, but not a ranch. Partnering with Tanner could be the only way to keep her animals, and the ranch was big enough to divide between the two of them.

  “Or I could rent it out to you,” he added. “Why don’t you get in the truck? We can talk about it on the way home.”

  Tanner wanted to be her landlord? Reality swept in and blew out any flicker of hope for a solution. As much as she wanted to accept his offer, she knew him too well. This was his way of holding onto her. She had to turn him down. “I appreciate you watching out for me, Tanner, but I can’t let you buy the ranch. I’m going to walk home now.”

  He handed her a flashlight from his glove box. “Well, let me know what you decide.”

  As he drove away, she turned on the flashlight. Its dim circle of light barely reached the ground in front of her. A chilly breeze blew as she limped along, stirring up memories of childhood Halloweens. It seemed wrong to be out alone on such a night, especially when Grandpa was home by himself.

  She drew her phone from her pocket to call him. He didn’t answer.

  That wasn’t unusual. He often didn’t hear the phone. She called again. He answered on the sixth ring. “Is that you, Rosie?” he answered, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

  “Walking home from the high school,” she shouted. “Where are you?”

  “Out in the barn.” Grandpa paused to catch his breath. “I fixed that squeak in the old baler.”

  She groaned. What would his doctor think? She was supposed to be keeping Grandpa in his wheelchair when he left the house. “I didn’t mean for you to fix it.”

  Ahead of her, a car pulled to the side of the road and Chase McFerrin rolled down the passenger side window. “Would you like a ride?” he called.

  She covered the bottom half of her phone to answer Chase. “Yes, please!”

  “That baler’s right as rain now,” Grandpa went on. “There’s just one problem.”

  “What’s that?” Rosie asked as she hobbled to Chase’s car.

  “I’ve broke myself again,” Grandpa said. “I can’t move my arm.”

  “Grandpa!”

  Chapter 30

  Destry couldn’t fly to Philadelphia without dropping by the hospital to see Rosie and Mr. Curtis. Rosie had been the only speaker to support his plan at the town hall meeting, and he wanted to thank her. Not that he wasn’t disappointed that she and Tanner appeared to have gotten back together. Tanner’s words still echoed in Destry’s mind: We want to keep Lone Spur as it is for our children. But he held back a grin, remembering how Rosie had stood up to provide a rebuttal to everything Tanner had said. That couldn’t have helped Tanner be any less jealous.

  It was probably best that Destry’s travel schedule was so tight, he and Mercedes had to visit the hospital on the way to the airport. With a pretty woman beside him,
he wouldn’t feel as tempted to flirt with Rosie.

  Mercedes also knew her way around the hospital better than he did. They found Mr. Curtis’s small room at the end of a hallway on the third floor. The old man frowned from the bed as they walked in. “Haven’t you got anything better to do?”

  Rosie, sitting in a chair beside the bed, shook her head and smiled.

  “Now that you mention it, I do,” Destry said, walking toward the bed and raising his voice. “We’re on the way to the airport. I’ve got to clear up some problems in Philadelphia before my company loses one of its major accounts. Lucky for you, the hospital was on our way, and we brought you some pie from The Little Red Hen.”

  Mercedes held up the carry-out bag. “Destry said you would want the pumpkin.”

  Destry watched Rosie, hoping for her eyes to move toward his at the mention of pumpkin pie. They didn’t.

  Rosie got up and offered her seat to Mercedes. “Sorry he’s in such a bad mood,” she whispered. “The doctor won’t release him to go home because he’s fallen twice. It’s too much of a risk.”

  “So he has to stay in the hospital?” Mercedes asked.

  Rosie shook her head. “In a nursing home.” She delivered her words in a monotone, so different from the sing-song way she talked to her animals.

  What Destry wouldn’t give to help her bring Mr. Curtis home again. She was such a caring granddaughter.

  The old man flipped through the TV channels with his remote. “Why don’t they show John Wayne movies anymore?”

  “I’d like to say it was because they’re all sexist and some are also racist,” Rosie said, raising her voice again. “But I think it’s just because they’re old.”

  “John Wayne married a Latina,” Mercedes said, staring down at her phone. “He wasn’t racist.”

  Destry squeezed Mercedes’s shoulder. “I always liked John Wayne, but you’ve got to admit, if I tried the John Wayne method—flinging women around and forcing them to kiss me—I’d most likely end up with a restraining order.”

  “Not from me you wouldn’t,” Mercedes teased. She always had such good comebacks to his flirtations. That was one of the things he liked about her.

  Rosie laughed without smiling and picked at a piece of lint on her grandfather’s blanket.

  Destry glanced at her, lowering his voice again. “How long will he have to stay in the nursing home?”

  Rosie bit the side of her lip. “Until he has adequate supervision at home.” Her words came out like a groan, and he noticed dark circles under her eyes. After working full-time and keeping up the ranch, it was no wonder she seemed so worn out and frustrated. “I don’t know how I’ll ever afford that kind of help.”

  Before he could speak, Mercedes looked up from her phone. “Did you say you got us a hotel room, Destry? Or did you want me to do it?”

  Rosie glanced from Mercedes to Destry as if trying to comprehend what Mercedes meant.

  He probably should have told Rosie earlier about his plans to miss three days of school—she was his mentor after all—but it had happened so fast, and he felt it was more important to resolve the problem with Tanner.

  “I must have forgotten to tell you we’re staying with my parents,” he told Mercedes. He’d tried to explain his stance when it came to physical relationships, but she kept pushing for the privacy of a hotel room. “They have two guest rooms ready for us.” He felt himself flush as he turned back to Rosie. “Mercedes has never been to the East Coast, so I thought it would be fun to bring her along.”

  “I’m going to apply for some jobs while I’m there,” Mercedes said. “Just don’t tell Mr. Moore.”

  He watched Rosie’s mouth drop and her forehead wrinkle as she processed the information. She looked as if she might say something, but then, just as quickly, she turned away, picking at a speck of dirt under her fingernail. “Oh.”

  This wasn’t the emotion he had been expecting. It didn’t make any sense for her to be upset about him taking a trip with Mercedes. Maybe she was just tired from being in the hospital all day. “I’m not sure I can express how much I appreciate what you said at the town hall meeting, Rosie.”

  She continued to stare down at her nails. “After Tanner’s diatribe, it was the least I could do.” Her voice quivered and she turned to look out the window. “I hope he didn’t discourage you.”

  What was troubling her so much? He rubbed the back of his neck. “There were plenty of others to discourage me.”

  “But you’re not going to give up, are you?” The fight had come back into her words as she searched his eyes.

  He gave a nervous chuckle. “I don’t have much choice. I was telling Mercedes on the way over that I’m hoping to talk to your mom’s boyfriend about selling the place.”

  Rosie stared at him in stunned surprise, and then her expression turned serious. “But you’ve already started construction. You’ll lose your investment.”

  Her reaction surprised him, and once again, he had to remind himself that she had rejected him, that she wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship. “It hasn’t all been a waste,” he said. “Trying to build this resort has helped me understand my brother in ways I never thought I could—he never felt like he belonged in Philadelphia, and in some ways, I’ve felt that here. I’ve also come to see that no matter how good the reason, it’s not a good idea to keep doing something that’s not going to work. My brother ended up the way he was because he kept making the wrong decision over and over again. I don’t want to be like that. I still want to help people, but I need to do it my way, and I need to find a place that’s a better fit for me.”

  “You fit just fine in Lone Spur.” Rosie leaned forward, looking like she wanted to say more.

  He stared down at his shoes. “That’s not the prevailing opinion.”

  “It’s my opinion,” she said, bending to reestablish eye contact. She could hardly know that his happiest moments here were the times he spent with her.

  “It’s my opinion too,” Mercedes added, reaching for his hand.

  Rosie’s eyes flicked toward her, and he wished he could read her thoughts.

  “I think you ought to give it a try,” Mr. Curtis shouted from his bed.

  Rosie turned to him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Try what, Grandpa?”

  “The John Wayne method. I want Destry to try it. That’s the only thing that would be worth the price of admission to this place.”

  “Grandpa!” Rosie scolded, her face glowing red.

  Destry shot a glance toward Mercedes, hoping she hadn’t caught on that Mr. Curtis wanted him to kiss Rosie. Mercedes threw her head back, laughing. “You old rascal! He doesn’t need to use force with me. I’m happy to kiss him wherever and whenever he wants.”

  A nurse came in then, ready to take Mr. Curtis’s vitals.

  Before she placed the thermometer in the old man’s ear, he uttered his final word of advice. “You don’t have all the time in the world, Destry.”

  Mercedes stood, nudging Destry’s arm. “He’s right. We ought to get going. I’d hate to miss our plane.”

  Destry knew well enough that Mr. Curtis hadn’t been referring to his travel plans.

  Rosie didn’t seem at all amused. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  He waited for the two women to exit the room ahead of him—definitely a mistake. Rosie wore her cowboy boots, and when she walked, they put a sway in her step. Then there was the way her jeans hugged the curve of her hips and waist—not too tight, not too loose. He pulled out his phone to distract himself as they walked down the hall, the two women chatting about tourist sites in Philadelphia.

  When they got to the front door, they paused. “It was great to see you with Tanner last night,” Mercedes said, giving Rosie a hug. “I’m glad you worked things out.”

  Rosie shook her head. “We didn’t. We’re just friends now. It’s better that way.”

  “Seriously?” Mercedes latched onto Destry’s arm. “Aww, that’s too b
ad.” Good thing she couldn’t see him try to hide his smile. As far as Destry was concerned, it wasn’t bad at all. Rosie was better off without Tanner. But that left one huge problem. He was still with Mercedes.

  Chapter 31

  Rosie had always wanted to see the Liberty Bell and Constitution Hall. Of course, Philadelphia was more than a tourist destination for Destry. It was his home. He and Mercedes were staying with his parents while they were there. Destry was that serious about Mercedes—serious enough to take her all the way across the country and introduce her to his parents. The thought had stayed with her through the night, breathing its icy chill across her skin so that she shivered even under the weight of three afghans.

  The day was drippy, dreary, and gray—a terrible day for Halloween. Folding her arms against the cold, she rolled out of bed, stumbled into Grandpa’s bedroom, and stared into his closet. She needed to get her mind off of Destry and onto what she should be doing: packing clothes for Grandpa to take to the nursing home. It was no use. As the rain fell, all she could think of was how Destry had pulled her out of the flood and into his truck. If she could only go back in time, she would not have ignored those feelings. Regret colored everything with its dull, gray haze.

  She packed shirts, pants, underwear, socks, and toiletries, writing Grandpa’s name on each item with permanent marker. She tried to picture him in a nursing home, watching soap operas and playing card games with a bunch of old people in wheelchairs. The image made her eyes well up with tears.

  Perhaps it had been a bad choice to take the day off to do this. It was so cold and quiet in the empty house, and Halloween had always been so fun when her grandmother was alive. But true to the holiday, ghosts and shadows haunted her, chilling her to the core.

  Attempting to cheer herself up, she turned on her playlist of breakup songs. They only reminded her that soon she would lose everything, including the house. Right now, the insurance was paying for Grandpa’s stay in the nursing home, but his policy would only cover a few weeks. After that, the family would pay for his care out of pocket, and Uncle Jeff had made it clear that meant they had to sell the ranch.