“Why would he care? Did he want you to stay home and work with him?”
“No, he wanted me to go to Wyoming.” He wasn’t sure if he could explain his dad’s need for him to live life in the now, but with Jill, he wanted to try. “My parents had me young. High school young. My dad missed out on a lot of stuff he wanted to do, so he’s always drilled in my head that I shouldn’t put things off. I’ve always wanted to fish the Platte and he thought I was throwing away an opportunity that might not come again.”
“I guess that makes sense,” she said with an appealing tilt to her head that made her dark hair shine in the light. She narrowed her eyes at him. “So why didn’t you go?”
He wished she could see herself, sitting across from him, her hair spilling around her shoulders, the graceful flow of her neck. If she could, he knew he wouldn’t have to answer her question with another evasion. “Every time I thought about where I’d be this summer, I kept coming back to this place. To the people here,” he hedged. “I listened to my gut.”
“Any regrets?” she asked.
He looked her dead in the eye, held her stare as her chest rose and fell once, twice. “Not one.” His gaze drifted to her mouth where she sank her teeth into her lush bottom lip and grinned. “You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
Chapter 19
Jill was glad for the challenge of work. She went over her notes with Tommy, set up an ordering and delivery schedule with a list of vendors, and nervously stood by his side as he announced to the team that Jill would be in charge of the restaurant in addition to serving on the lunch crew. Her coworkers seemed surprised at the changing of the guard and she knew the easy camaraderie she’d established with them would change.
So much change. Too much in a short period of time. Her life no longer existed around training; she was responsible for more than just herself for the first time ever, and her budding relationship with Ty had awakened a womanly desire long dormant.
Blocking out the searing kiss they’d shared the night before became impossible when he sauntered into The Tap for lunch. The measly shaft of light at his back caught in the golden blond of his hair. His easy gait reminded her of the way he’d angled himself against her at the door. The strong fingers that only hours ago had burrowed into her hair and held her captive while he drew moans of pleasure from her lips. And his mouth, the knowing smile that touched his lips shared the secret of longings passed between them as they’d made out like teenagers against her apartment door.
Her face heated at the memory. If he knew that he’d only to crook a finger and she’d drop everything to feel that mouth on hers again… The heavy lidded look he spared her said he knew all too well. He was too cocky, too aware of his effect on Jill, and too gorgeous for his own good. She couldn’t figure out how a guy like him, who could have any woman at the snap of his fingers, would seem so hell bent on being with her.
“What can I get you?” she asked him, purposely avoiding his eyes for fear everyone in the restaurant would know what they’d done and the mountain of things they’d yet to explore.
“I’ll have the tuna salad sandwich with fruit,” he said.
Her eyes flung to his. “Fruit?”
His dimple flashed. “I figure I’d better start eating better if I’m ever going to have a chance to keep up with you.”
She would have given anything to stop her cheeks from heating. She knew he meant running and not the way she’d arched against him last night, her body begging for what her mouth would never admit. “Okay, then. Fruit it is.”
The season was in full swing and The Tap was packed by the time he’d finished his lunch and paid the bill she’d slipped in front of him on her way to refill a drink. She pocketed his tip with the others she’d gathered that day, and only later, counting her money to share with the teenager she’d hired to bus the tables and clean the dishes, did she discover the note he left.
I’m working with Tommy tonight at the fly shop. I’ll stop by the office later to see if you’re still there.
She lifted her eyes to the clock on the computer. Just after three. He’d be on the river until at least six. Now that she was manager, she’d planned to adjust her schedule so she could come by at lockup and get used to those procedures. Her new responsibilities would put a serious crimp in her burgeoning relationship.
She sat up straight at the thought. Relationship? How could she think of their time together as anything other than a summer-long diversion? He’d said he came back for a reason; he had something to prove. Jill couldn’t think of herself and the time they spent together as anything other than a byproduct of his time here and his need to fill that void in his life for a little while. A man like Ty, she felt sure, wasn’t used to being alone.
What would he think of her when the summer was over, she wondered? What would she think of herself?
A summer of changes, indeed.
She needed to remember what this summer was to both of them. She sought to find her place in life or at least a balance she could live with. Tyler sought to prove something to himself or perhaps his father. No matter what his quest, he’d be gone at the end of the summer. She’d do well to remember that before jumping in with both feet and ending up with a broken heart.
***
Ty loaded up his gear early Sunday morning and drove down the mountain at the first hint of dawn. As he meandered down the steep slope and around the bending turns, his mind went to Jill. She was probably asleep right now, tucked sweetly between the covers of her double bed. Ever since his one foray into her room, he pictured her there, lying beneath the heavy denim cover, her hair spilling atop her pretty white lace pillows.
She could just as easily be up and running along the quiet streets, the cool morning air puffing out in misty bursts. He could see her in his mind’s eye, the long elegant gait, the strength of her stride. No matter what, he promised himself, he’d make the time to see her before the day was over.
Between her work schedule and him taking the slack when Shane fell off a raft and injured his shoulder, they’d barely seen one another except in passing. He was becoming desperate to touch her again, feel her breath on his face, taste her earthy flavor on his tongue.
He shook off his melancholy mood when he passed through the Lower Fork and didn’t see her and focused instead on his destination. Lyle had suggested an early morning fish along his stretch of the Rio Grande. When Ty had asked Tommy about the property, his boss seemed surprised at Lyle’s offer, confirming what Ty had suspected all along: the generous invitation was probably an interrogation.
He’d already concluded Lyle’s interest in Jill was more than friendship. The two had a bond and Ty felt an inkling of unease that he’d either be warned to steer clear or deemed unacceptable by her close friend. He intended to stake his claim on Jill Jennings, Lyle Woodward be damned.
He followed the directions Lyle had provided, left at the Dairy Barn and seven miles north along a road as straight and flat as his own mountain drive was curvy and steep. Ty entered the property by a well-tended caretaker’s house and followed the gravel road that ran between two barns, a corral, and numerous fenced pastures. A gaggle of black and white cows feasted on hearty green plumes of grass, chewing and staring as his truck kicked up a tornado of dust in his wake.
The house sat directly along the river, an impressive wood and stone cabin with covered decks and flowers in containers flanking the driveway. He parked his truck near a bordering fence so as not to block the drive and walked around the back to get a better view of the river.
He heard it first, the whistling water rolling over rocks and boulders. In the distance, he saw two mule deer crossing the river at a calm and shallow juncture. The air smelled of hay and something he couldn’t name, a freshness that felt like a filter through his lungs.
He startled when Lyle walked up behind him.
“Beautiful, huh?”
“It’s breathtaking. I’ve not seen the
river this far down. So much character,” he said as his eyes roamed the landscape.
“I never tire of looking out the window,” Lyle said. “I guess you found it okay?”
“Right where you said it would be.” Ty shoved his hands in his pockets and met Lyle stare for stare. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Lyle had unzipped his pants to mark his territory.
“I’m not much of a fisherman, but I think the best place to cast your line is upriver. We'll take the four wheelers and you can pick the spot.”
“Sounds good. I'll get my stuff from the truck.”
Lyle strapped Ty’s gear to a mud-caked four-wheeler and directed Ty to follow in a smaller version. “Won’t we wake your family starting these things up so close to the house?” Ty asked.
“My stepdad’s already up and working. My mom was making coffee when I saw your truck.”
“Lead the way,” Ty said.
They followed a deeply rutted path along the riverbank, around huge cottonwood trees and fingers of overflow slews. Ty spotted a large carp float to the surface of one of the larger bodies of water. Dove’s dispersed with a rustle as they rounded a sharp bend in the river and two ducks took flight when Lyle cut the engine of his ATV and Ty followed suit.
“How does this look?” Lyle asked over his shoulder before dismounting.
Ty gazed around at the wide stretch of river. The water bubbled over a curving line of boulders in the river where the current emptied into a slow moving pool. “Let’s start right there,” he pointed to the spot where the fast moving river narrowed and lipped over into a slower pool of water, “and watch the head of the pool. If we don’t see any signs, we can fish the tongue or go back and hit the tail.”
“What kind of signs?” Lyle asked.
Ty stopped Lyle just as the water licked their boots, thankful that the sun’s position left their shadow in the rocky bank and not on the water. “Different things. Splashes, rings, wakes, tailing, or bulges.”
“Okay…”
“Signs there are fish in the pool. Watch the surface and see if you notice any movement.”
Ty pulled on his polarized sunglasses from around his neck and Lyle squinted at the water under the brim of his ball cap. “I don’t see anything.”
“Patience is the name of the game. There.” Ty pointed to a spot just beyond the lip. “Did you see that bulge in the water?”
“Ahhhh…”
“Like a swell on the surface. That means a fish is feeding just below the water. I think it’s safe to start here considering the water flow and a bulge.” He knew Lyle understood next to nothing about fishing and that watching for too many signs would bore him to death. For all intents and purposes, he was giving a beginning lesson.
Ty strapped on his vest, showed Lyle how to use one of his poles that he’d already attached a wet fly to, and demonstrated the best way to cast. “That’s it,” Ty said as Lyle’s line flew back and forth in a delicate arch. “Now mend the line just a bit.”
“Do what?” Lyle asked.
“You want your fly line to drift at the same rate as the fly,” Ty said. “You see how your line is ahead of the fly?” He pointed to where the line lay atop the surface of the slow moving water. “Just flip the line back with your wrist in the other direction and that’ll adjust the line into proper position.”
Lyle accomplished the feat in a couple of flicks. “I never realized there was so much to fly fishing,” he said. “My brother and I always used spinning rods when we’d fish.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Ty commented as he cast his line at the tongue of the pool.
They fished companionably, staying between ten and twenty yards apart. They kept their voices hushed when speaking about a cast or whenever Lyle had a question about what Ty was doing. When Ty caught an eighteen-inch rainbow, he walked Lyle through helping him with the net to bring it in and take a picture before releasing the fish back into the water.
A good while later, as the sun rose high in the sky, Lyle suggested a break and unhooked a small cooler from the ATV. He walked to the trunk of a cottonwood tree where it had fallen like a gift in the shade of its neighbors. Ty felt the refreshing breeze kiss his sweaty shirt as he unzipped his vest and draped it over the four-wheeler.
“This sure is a beautiful piece of land,” Ty said as he took the seat next to Lyle and accepted a soft drink. “How long have you owned it?”
“My family’s owned the land for fifteen and we’ve lived here for ten.”
“Has it always been a ranch?”
“It sat vacant until we moved here, my mom, brother, and me. My stepdad’s ranched it since then; of course, he wasn’t my stepdad then.”
“Is your dad back in Atlanta?” Ty asked.
“He died in a plane crash twelve years ago. We moved out here not long after.”
“Sorry about your dad,” Ty said after swallowing a bite of roast beef sandwich.
Lyle passed him a bag of chips. “Thanks.” He kicked at a rock with the toe of his shoe. “It was a long time ago.”
“Your stepdad’s well respected in the area, so it seems like you got lucky in that department.”
Lyle snorted in agreement. “Yes, we did. Didn’t like him at first, of course I’m not sure I would have liked any man who came sniffing around my mom, but he’s a good man. He works hard, doesn’t play games or pull punches. And he loves my mom and my brother and me with everything he’s got. We’re lucky to have him.”
“I’ve got one of those,” Ty admitted. When Lyle glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, Ty explained, “A stepdad. A good one. He helped raise me. He’s the best thing that ever happened to my mom, and he’s blessed us all with a set of wild eyed twin boys I’m proud to call my brothers.”
“Wow. I always thought I was lucky I didn’t have to compete with another set of kids.”
“No, they’re great. My dad’s remarried and he’s got three girls. I know it sounds crazy, but the kids are a blessing. They’re all a lot younger, so maybe that’s why I don’t feel like I’m in competition with them. I guess I’ve just got more people to love.”
Lyle finished off his sandwich and balled the foil wrapper in his fist before tossing it back in the cooler. “Is that what you’re doing out here?” he asked. “With Jill? You fishing for more people to love? Or maybe someone to love you?”
Chapter 20
Jill faced her father over the steam from the pot roast and potatoes. Sunday dinner, which was technically Sunday lunch at the Jennings’ house, had never been fraught with so much tension. Even Josh, Jill’s eighteen-year-old brother, was uncharacteristically quiet.
The silence broke when Bobbie asked Jill to pass the salt. It was a ruse, Jill knew, as her mother was committed to her low sodium diet. “Did I tell you I saw Mrs. Bitner at the grocery store this morning and she said Mandy got hired on by a firm in Denver? A big time firm,” her mother said with wide eyes. “Oh, I wish I could remember the name, but I get all those initials confused.”
Jill figured it was only a matter of time before Mandy Bitner made her splash in the big city. Her mom bringing up her high school classmate’s success wasn’t exactly the segue Jill was hoping for when announcing her new job. “I got a new job, too.” Her eyes bore a hole into her mother’s practical white plates. “I’m managing The Tap this summer.”
Jill could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. She snuck a look at her father, his brow furrowed and his mouth drawn in a tight line.
“Is that why you quit training?” he asked. “To pursue your lifelong dream of bar management?”
She wouldn’t do herself any favors by losing her cool. She met him glare for glare and said as calmly as possible, “Tommy needed some help; I had the time. I’m actually enjoying the work. I do have an accounting degree.”
“Ah, yes. The bachelor of bartending.” He looked at Bobbie. “Our money well spent.”
Josh had the nerve to snort in laughter.
; “I think that’s great, honey,” her mother injected. “Tommy’s lucky to have you.”
“At least you’re not wasting your life as a waitress,” her father said as he placed a bite of roast in his mouth.
“I’m still waitressing at lunch,” she admitted. “It helps me to work both sides of the business.”
“Well, let’s raise our glasses to our daughter’s new career as a barkeep.”
He was the only one who lifted his glass of water until Josh decided he wanted in on the fun. Jill knew Josh was reveling in her being the black sheep for once.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” her father said. “Is that in poor taste?”
“Gary!” her mother admonished in a harsh whisper. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Bobbie. I think it’s just the beginning. The beginning of the end.”
Jill stood up and fought the urge to fling her plate in her father’s face. The man knew how to push every one of her buttons. “I’ve lost my appetite, Mom, but thanks for a lovely meal. I just remembered there’s somewhere I have to be.” She picked up her plate and carried it to the kitchen with shaking hands.
Her mother followed closely behind and grasped her by the shoulders as she swiped the food into the trash. “He doesn’t mean what he says, Jill. He’s just hurt.”
“Well, I guess now we’re even.” She stacked the plate in the sink and turned around to face her mom. “I’m not coming back until he can be civil.”
“He will be.”
“Really? When? Because it’s been two weeks, Mom, and that was no where near civil.”
“He just needs some more time. You’ve moved on with your life and I’m proud of you for your job. I really am, if that’s what you want—”
“I don’t know what I want,” Jill said.
“Neither does he, and he’s got nothing to do for big chunks of the day but sit around and be mad at you.”
“And that’s my fault?”
“That’s just the way it is.”
Mending the Line Page 11