She heard him move, and then his voice came from in front of her. He sounded like he was crouching down. “I broke my hand on Bobby’s face for telling Dad and canceling the order. I’d do it again, too. In a second.”
Against her will, her eyelids opened enough that she could see the red, swollen hand he held out to her. The whole thing was twice the size it normally was. It looked like it hurt.
“Josey, listen to me, please. I want to make this right. I—I can’t keep the family together. Not like my mom wanted me to.” He sounded so sad she felt her heart breaking in a new, different way. “But I’d rather lose them than you,” he went on. “I quit. I’ll get a different job, someplace normal, somewhere where my family can’t get to me. I’ll move some money around, get the things for the shop. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, just…” He took a deep breath, and his hands—one broken, one not—rested on her knees. “Just look at me. Please.”
A man should not sound so serious, so shaky, Josey decided. It made something weak inside her want to tell him not to worry, to make him feel better. But she wasn’t going to. She hadn’t misheard him. He would walk away from his family for her. He knew who he was. He didn’t need a family or a group of people to accept or reject him.
Not like she did.
“Don’t do this to me, Josey. To us. I’m not some outsider. It’s me, Ben.” The shakiness was gone from his voice. He was getting mad at her. Good. That would make the end easier. “I love you, okay? I love you, and you’re just going to let that die because of my screwed-up family?”
He loved her? The way he’d said it—okay?—made it sound like he was negotiating a business deal. He was making a concession against his better judgment. He did not give his love freely, he expected something in return. He expected her to stay.
No. She didn’t belong with Ben because she couldn’t give up her family for him.
Then, for the first time, it occurred to her that maybe she didn’t belong here on the rez, either.
Maybe the problem wasn’t the man or the tribe.
Maybe the problem lay with her.
As this thought took root, Josey realized it was the unvarnished truth.
Of course—why hadn’t she seen it before? She was the problem, thinking that she could define herself by her relationship with the tribe or with Ben. No wonder she didn’t know who she was. She’d been too busy trying to be everything to everyone else.
Ben moved, and she hurried to shut her eyes. She knew one look into those baby blues might crack the dam of her resolve, and one crack could be fatal.
She felt the tender touch of his lips against her forehead, then he whispered, “I know where you belong, Josey. I know who you are. I’ll wait for you until you remember.”
Then he was gone, stumbling back through the underbrush. Soon enough, the rumble of his motorcycle shook the air, and then there was silence.
Until she remembered who she was?
Who did he think she was?
Twelve
“You’re really leaving?” Jenny stood in the doorway of Mom’s trailer, blocking Josey’s exit.
“For the hundredth time, yes. Here,” Josey said, hefting a copier-paper box full of shoes at her, “carry this.”
“Do you have to go tomorrow?” Jenny sounded more like a whiny kid than a full-grown woman. And she wasn’t moving.
“For the hundred and first time, yes. I start the new job on Monday.” Josey did a slow turn, gauging how much stuff she had left to pack. Two more boxes, and then the suitcases of clothing. Four more trips, maybe five?
Jenny glared at her. “I don’t understand why you had to get a job in Texas. I don’t understand why you’re leaving. When Ricky dumped me—while I was pregnant, may I remind you—I didn’t tuck tail and run.”
“I’m not tucking and running.”
“Like hell you’re not. So he turned out to be a jerk. What man isn’t?” Jenny said this as if it were a fact of life. “It’s not like you work for him or anything. He’ll never set foot on the rez again—not if he knows what’s good for him. You’ll never see him again. You don’t have to leave.”
Sorrow threatened to overwhelm Josey. She’d had an almost identical conversation with Mom last night.
But Josey wasn’t leaving Mom and Jenny. If anything, they’d be the only two reasons to stay. But neither of them could see how much of a pariah Josey had become in the days following The End of Ben. People had stopped looking at her—even people she’d counted as friends, people like Don.
She couldn’t stay here and be an outsider trying to fit in, and she couldn’t let Ben be the way she defined herself. “You’ll like Texas. Lots of cowboys. You can bring Seth down on summer breaks and stuff.”
“Why Texas? Why go at all?”
“Because that’s where the job is. Dallas is a nice city.” Texas was someplace that had no memories. She’d looked at New York, but she didn’t want to bump into the ghost of her grandparents every time she turned a corner. She wanted a blank slate, where no one had ever heard of Josey White Plume or Ben Bolton.
She needed to forget him, just for a little bit, while she tried to figure out who she was going to be from now on. Texas was as good as place as any to start over. People wouldn’t look at her and wonder. They might assume she was Hispanic, but that wouldn’t mark her as different. She would blend. Which was almost the same thing as fitting in. Almost.
Not that Jenny understood that. The perma-scowl on her face made that much clear.
Josey tried to appease her. “Hey—it’s the Children’s Hospital. I’ll still be helping kids. I thought you’d like that.”
“But not our kids,” she snapped. “Not us.” With that, she stomped outside and dropped the box on the ground next to Josey’s car.
She didn’t want to leave with Jenny mad at her—but she couldn’t see a scenario where Jenny was happy to see her go. That was a nice feeling. At least someone would miss her.
Would Ben? Josey tried not to think about him, but again and again he popped up in her thoughts. She’d spent far too many long nights wondering if he would come for her, but she hadn’t heard a peep out of a Bolton in the past four weeks.
It was better this way. She didn’t belong here or there, so she was going somewhere new and become someone new.
She’d found a job and rented an apartment. She was leaving, and that was that. It was better this way—a clean break.
That’s what she told herself, again and again. She liked to pretend it was working. Tomorrow morning, pretending would get a lot easier. She needed to be in a different state than Ben just so she’d have room to think.
Jenny was leaning against the car, glaring at her. “You’re coming by the school before you leave tomorrow, right? You’re going to say goodbye to the kids, right?”
“Right. Around nine.” One final hurrah to the old Josey White Plume.
She knew she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. She’d just have to do it quick, before her emotions got the better of her. After that, she’d be able to spend the thirteen hours in the car figuring out how she was going to fit into her new life.
Jenny wiped her hand across her eyes. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”
Josey went to her sister-at-heart and wrapped her up in a huge hug. “I’ll come visit, okay? I’ll come back for the graduations and stuff.”
Sniffling, Jenny pushed her away and headed back into the trailer, where she grabbed another box. “Yeah, but it won’t be the same.”
That’s what Josey was counting on.
*
The next morning, Josey did a final sweep of her studio apartment. Empty, the small room seemed bigger than she remembered it. She was breaking her lease, but the new job in Dallas would pay her enough to make up the difference. She grabbed the box of books and headed down.
Her whole life was packed into the back of her car. Most everything she had owned had found happy homes with other people on the rez.
She wasn’t even taking the coffeepot. Just her clothes, her computer and a few things her grandparents had left her.
She fiddled around with the boxes, making sure they wouldn’t shift during the trip, but everything was loaded and locked. She’d put it off as long as possible. Time for her final trip out to the rez. Then she could be on her way to a new life. A new Josey—whoever that was.
The drive took longer, like her car was trying to keep her here as long as possible. She took in the sweeping grasslands, the goofy roadside signs for Wall Drug and the sight of pronghorns dancing in the distance for the last time. She’d promised Jenny she’d come back, but she wasn’t sure she could say goodbye to this place again and again.
Should have left yesterday, she thought as she bit her lip to keep the tears from breaking free. She shouldn’t have agreed to this farewell, to giving every one of those kids—her kids—a hug and the books she’d picked out for them before she left. Because that’s what she was doing. Leaving them all behind.
Lord, she didn’t know if she could do this. Was she really telling herself that she’d never see Livvy or Seth or Jared again? Was she really going to miss watching Kaylie grow up?
Josey had to stop before the final turn and take a bunch of deep breaths to get herself under control. Maybe she’d feel different in a few months. Maybe the new woman she was going to become would be able to come back to the rez every so often without feeling like another part of her was dying. Maybe she’d be able to come back when the eighth-graders graduated in six months. She could do that, right?
Once she was under control, Josey kept going. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner…
That thought died as she rounded the last bend. A massive, dual-wheel pickup truck—gray—with a custom trailer attached to it was parked next to the school.
Ben was here. He’d come for her.
But that wasn’t all. Over the school door hung a sheet painted with the words We Love Josey and decorated with all the kids’ handprints. All the kids were standing in front of the school. Oh, no. Livvy was holding flowers.
The emotional turmoil that already had her rolling turned vicious on her in a second. In that brief moment, she debated bailing versus just throwing up. Would she ever be prepared for that man?
No. Not in this lifetime. Maybe not even in the next.
She didn’t have a plan B, so she made the snap decision to stick with plan A. It was still a plan, after all. No matter what he said, she had a job in Dallas, and she was leaving. Today. If he wanted her, he should have gotten his butt in gear during any of the preceding four weeks to come get her. That was that. And the kids? They were too young to understand how hard it was for her.
She parked at a safe distance from the familiar truck. Why did he have the trailer today? Had he gotten some equipment? He’d said he’d figure out how to get some. It had been one of the last things he’d said to her.
The second her resolve started to flutter, she snapped back to attention. So he’d gotten ahold of some equipment. Good for the school. Great for the kids. That wasn’t her concern anymore.
She got out of the car. She was not leaving until she had said goodbye to the kids. That was the plan, and she was sticking to it, Boltons and signs and flowers be darned.
“We love you, Josey!” The kids all shouted in unison as Livvy ran up and handed her the flowers.
“We don’t want you to go,” Livvy said, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Josey pulled the girl into a fierce hug. “Oh, hon.” The ground she’d been standing on felt shaky.
She’d thought no one—except Mom and Jenny—wanted her to stay on this rez. Had she gotten it all wrong? Maybe it wasn’t what the grown-ups thought that mattered. She’d made a difference to these kids, and they loved her for it. Being too white or not Lakota enough didn’t even figure into it.
Blinking, she looked up and saw Ben Bolton filling the door frame. Oh, he looked good. He looked like he always did—dark jeans, button-down shirt cuffed at his forearms, black boots—but just the sight of him took her resolve and threatened to smash it to smithereens.
He saw her. She could tell. He said something to someone over his shoulder, and then those long legs were closing the distance between them faster than her heart was beating.
Behind him, Josey saw Mom and Jenny shooing all the kids back inside. Jenny called to Livvy, but before the girl went back in, she shot Josey a grin that said she was in on it. “He came back. I think he always will.” Then she was gone, running into the school and shutting the door behind her.
Out of the mouths of babes.
Ben pulled up before he was touching her, but only just. His eyes seemed unbelievably blue today. In fact, she was having trouble believing this whole thing.
“You’re here.” One hand waved up, like he wanted to touch her face but thought better of it. His hand was splinted and wrapped in a beige bandage.
She swallowed. “I’m leaving.”
“I heard. Dallas.” He stared down at her with a fierce intensity. “Your mom said your job starts Monday.”
“Yeah.” She wanted to tell him he looked good, that she was glad to see him, that she still hadn’t figured out who she was so he might as well stop waiting for her. But that wasn’t part of her plan, so she kept the words to a minimum.
“I missed you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. It was the sort of thing that was easy to say, but hard to prove. If he’d really missed her, he’d have come for her sooner. Right?
They looked at each other for an unbroken moment before someone cleared his throat behind Ben. He turned to acknowledge…his brother, Bobby? And behind him, Billy? She checked, but she didn’t see their father. She supposed she should be thankful for that, but three Boltons was at least two too many.
“Ms. White Plume, hi. Remember me? Bobby Bolton?” He talked a little differently, like his jaw was stuck halfway open.
“Hello.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I just needed to apologize to you, you know, for the mix-up. I, uh…” He stopped and swallowed.
“Go on.” Staring at his boots, Ben sounded like a father listening to a recalcitrant child repeat a practiced apology. He flexed his hand inside the brace.
“I didn’t mean to get Ben’s order canceled. I wasn’t aware of the situation, and I made an ass of myself. It won’t happen again.” He gave Ben a look that said, “How was that?” Ben nodded and turned to Josey.
He was waiting for her. He always waited for her.
“Um, okay. Apology accepted. Thanks.” Bobby managed a crooked smile that made him look relieved.
Then Billy stepped up. His beard was trimmed down to a goatee, and a huge, angry scar cut down one side of his face. She’d never gotten a really good look at the oldest Bolton—too much shouting was distracting—but she was pretty sure that scar was new. “We’re sorry about our dad, too. He can come off as a huge—” Ben cleared his throat in warning. “Jerk. He can come off as a jerk, but his heart’s in the right place. Most of the time.”
“I, um, I understand.” Not really, but she was pretty sure everyone would be happier if they could stop this whole apologize-for-everything parade.
They all stood there, more or less looking at their feet, for a pained second. Then Billy said, “Yup,” and he and Bobby moved toward the trailer.
“What’s going on?” Josey hissed to Ben.
A metallic thud shook the ground, making both of them jump. She spun around to see the Boltons opening up the trailer. Something told her they weren’t about to unload woodworking tools.
The corner of his mouth curved up, and even though she was sticking to her plan, dang it, certain parts of her went melty.
“We wanted to come out and tell you in person that our equipment is on order.” His smile deepened. “We should be able to donate our old equipment in six months.”
Stunned was such an inadequate word. “How?”
“Ev
eryone calmed down in the E.R., and we had a chance to talk. Well, I had a chance to talk while Bobby got his jaw wired, and Billy and Dad got stitched up, and they worked on my hand. Bobby’s got a production deal he’s working on, and the long and the short of it is that Billy and I convinced Bobby that helping the school is good for business. We’ll donate the equipment, build the bike and film the whole thing. It’ll be great press for the company and the school.” Josey’s jaw dropped, but Ben just gave her that almost-grin. “And Dad can’t argue with all three of us. Not when we work together.” He leaned forward. “And what’s good for business is good for the family.”
He’d decided this a month ago—and this was the first she was hearing of it? “But—but you quit your family and I’m leaving. Today. Now.”
Ben stepped in closer—so close she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. “My father apologized to me. Wish you could have seen it,” he added, his almost-smile deepening. “Never thought I’d see the day when he told me he was proud of me, but it happened.”
Part of her was happy for him, because she knew how much that meant to him. But the other part? “It’s been a month.”
The flash of anger surprised her. Now that she thought about it, she wanted to throttle him. He’d done all of this—bikes and equipment and filming—without even bothering to pick up the phone?
No, she was not going to get melty or fluttery or anything just because he had the nerve to give her that private smile when she was mad at him.
“You weren’t at your apartment the nights I came by, and I didn’t think coming out to the rez unannounced was in my best long-term interest.”
He’d come for her. He’d waited for her. Josey shook herself. She was sticking with the plan. She was leaving. “You could have called.”
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