The Bride Wore Denim

by Lizbeth Selvig

  “Hi,” Harper said.

  “Hi, Miss Harper, sorry to bother you.” Her mother’s drilled-in manners came out automatically as she continued to stare.

  “You don’t have to call me ‘Miss,’ honest.” She smiled.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry either. My mom made me learn to be polite, too, but you don’t need to be formal. I heard you came especially to see me? I’m honored. And you’re just in time.”

  That drew Skylar’s focus from the rest of the bright paintings on the walls, the beautiful purply-blue-and-white curtains at the windows that matched a super full dust ruffle around the bed, and the amazing easel in the corner.

  Honored? Nobody said that about a random visit from a neighbor kid. Skylar didn’t have a lot of experience dropping in on people, but she knew that much. And in time for what?

  “I . . . I have something to give back to you.”

  “Oh?”

  Skylar remembered all at once why she really didn’t want to be there. It was stupid to get upset over a camera that literally cost her money every time she used it, but a tiny lump formed in her throat when she tried to say what her mother had sent her to say.

  She took the strap of the camera bag off her shoulder and held it out. “This,” she managed.

  True incomprehension filled Harper’s face. “What is it?”

  “Your dad’s camera. It really should stay in the family.”

  Harper’s reaction was 100 percent not what Skylar had expected. She covered her mouth with one hand and began to cry.

  “Oh, Skylar, no. No, you can’t give it away. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you had to give it to me.”

  She didn’t bawl or anything. She just had tears running down her cheeks. Even so, it made Skylar want to cry, too. It made her miss Mr. Crockett even more. It made her not know at all what to do.

  “It’s okay,” she said lamely. “My mom is right. He probably only meant for me to borrow it.”

  “No,” Harper repeated, and wiped her nose with a snuffle. She turned and pulled a tissue from a box on the nightstand. After she wiped her eyes she turned back. “Come here and sit for a second.”

  She shoved the suitcase over and patted the quilt over the mattress. Skylar forced her legs to obey. When she sat uneasily on the bed, Harper joined her. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “I was jealous that my dad gave you the camera.”

  “I know.” Skylar surprised herself by saying so and rubbed her own nose self-consciously. Harper smiled even though her eyes were still shiny.

  “But it’s not because I want it. That’s the truth. I was jealous because I never believed my dad cared about my art. He never told me he liked what I did and always seemed to think it was kind of silly. When you said he thought you had talent, I wanted him back for just long enough that he could tell me, too.”

  Skylar felt like she shouldn’t be hearing this, and yet she was a little flattered, too, like Harper trusted her with something important.

  “He talked about you.” It was all she could think of to say.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Harper’s voice was calm but her eyes got a little wide. “I don’t know why I told you this, because it sounds like you and my dad were friends, and I’m glad you were. I’m not trying to make you feel bad about him or me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want you to believe me when I say I don’t want you to give me the camera, and for you to believe me I needed to tell you the truth. I’m not a photographer anyway, I wouldn’t ever use his camera, but you will. Right?”

  “I love it. I take it everywhere.”

  “Then it has the perfect home.”

  “Do you mean it?” It was a stupid question. Harper wouldn’t tell her she meant it and then be mean and say she didn’t.

  But Harper crying and the idea that Mr. Crockett hadn’t even ever said he liked her work . . . it was rattling her brain. She couldn’t believe someone else felt about their dad the way she felt about her mom.

  “I do mean it, Skylar. I am sorry I was rude to you that day we met.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “You know what? I never tell people about my dad making me sad. Do you think it could be our secret?”

  For a second Harper didn’t even seem like a grown-up. She seemed kind of sad but hopeful. Skylar had never had anyone ask her to keep secrets. Except Marcus who said he’d kick her butt if she told he had a Playboy magazine hidden in the barn. This was way different. This was a girlfriend secret.

  “It’s our secret,” she said, and almost added that maybe Harper could keep her same secret, too. After all, she didn’t think her mom liked her all the time either. But she didn’t ask.

  And then Harper stunned her again by leaning forward and giving her a hug. It was a nice, warm thank-you hug. Normally the only person who could hug her was Grandpa Leif, but Skylar didn’t pull away until Harper did.

  “It was a really nice thing, you coming to try and give me the camera. Thank you.”

  Skylar wanted to take the praise, but she knew she couldn’t. “No. I wasn’t the nice one. It was my mom who made me. She might not even believe me that you said I could keep it.”

  “I know your mom. I’ll tell her. And you were nice. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come. But I’m glad. We’re friends now, and I got to tell you I was sorry.”

  Friends! They were friends?

  The she looked at the suitcase and sobered. It didn’t matter. Harper was leaving tonight and she’d be gone. A stray thought came back to her.

  “Why did you say before that I was just in time?”

  “I was about to go to town. I have a couple of things I need before I leave for the airport. All I meant was that you had perfect timing.”

  “I was trying to get my dad to go to town today or tonight.” Skylar stood and dug into the pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a yellow film cartridge. What she’d thought was her last roll of film from the Minolta.

  “Is he going to take you?”

  “Maybe tomorrow, he said. He’s still working on the hay baler.”

  “Then come with me. We can go ask your mom, I’ll tell her about the camera, and we can drop your film at . . . Where do you drop it?”

  “At Kloster’s Drug. They send it to the Walgreens in Jackson. Sometimes, if we go all the way to Jackson, Dad will take the film there himself.”

  “Well if Kloster’s works for you, we can have it there in half an hour. Wanna go?”

  Skylar smiled for the first time since knocking on Rosecroft’s door.

  “IS IT REALLY true that your family used to own half this town?”

  Harper smiled across the booth in the ice cream shop at Skylar’s unruly strawberry blonde hair and eager eyes. The teen was a completely different person than the somber, nervous girl who’d come timidly into Harper’s bedroom ninety minutes before. And what had started as an annoying interruption to her rotten day had turned into a blessing.

  Skylar was nothing short of an enigma. Fourteen except for the moments when she acted twenty-one. Harper was piecing together a picture of a smart, lonely, scarily savvy girl who hinted that she hated being homeschooled but wouldn’t say it outright. And Skylar was beyond a great distraction when it came to Cole Wainwright.

  Harper swallowed the sadness that rose every time she thought about him.

  “The Crocketts haven’t owned much except the newspaper building and the feed mill since I’ve been around,” she said. “But it’s true my great-grandfather, Eli, helped build the town from the tiny little watering hole it was when he arrived from Kansas in 1916. Until my grandpa Sebastian sold most of the family’s businesses and holdings, this was sort of Crockettville.”

  Skylar giggled. “What sounds weirder? Crockettville or Wolf Paw Pass for a town?”

  “I don’t know. I like Wolf Paw Pass. It’s different. It sounds like the right name for a town between a big city li
ke Jackson and a national park like Grand Teton.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You look like you’re done. Was the Wolf Paw Chunk any good?” She winked knowing there wasn’t anyone in the world who wouldn’t think a flavor from Ina’s Ice Cream Emporium was fabulous.

  “Dark chocolate and milk chocolate ice cream with hunks of dark chocolate and milk chocolate candy? Uh, it was okay.”

  “Good to hear.”

  There was no Ina anymore, and she’d never run the store, but she’d taught her family to make darn good ice cream. Now the store was run by Harper’s old schoolmate Bonnie McAllister, Ina’s granddaughter. The staff—made up of Bonnie’s husband and five siblings—had kept the tradition well alive. Quaint, homespun businesses like Ina’s were a staple in Wolf Paw.

  “Thanks for it,” Skylar said.

  “My French Mint Marshmallow was good, too, and you’re very welcome. Anything else you need to do while we’re here?”

  “No. The film is turned in. Do you need to shop more?”

  “I’m done. I don’t have too much more time anyhow. It’s one o’clock. I need to leave for Jackson by four.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  The statement took Harper aback. The girl barely knew her, and although Skylar clearly craved friendship, Harper wouldn’t have expected a teenager to choose an adult.

  “Thank you. It’s hard to leave.”

  That was somewhat a lie. It hurt to leave things she felt so strongly about in the fate of other hands. Joely, however, was doing her best to seriously look at the books with her mother, research cattle with Leif, and research fairly the likelihood of Mountain Pacific finding oil on the ranch.

  Maybe she’d find a way to pull off her ascension to the job of Paradise boss.

  What Harper found less hard to leave was Cole and the confusion he caused in her emotions. In all honesty, his lie of omission was minor. People worked for oil companies. It wasn’t a crime. The thought that he didn’t see her any differently than anyone else did—as someone who was so single-minded of focus and so fragile of emotion that she couldn’t be treated with the truth—however, hurt.

  “Will you be back soon?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I don’t have any specific plans right now.” A prick of pain she didn’t quite understand spread through her heart. “I’ll come back if my mother needs anything. And I’ll be back to visit. But I have a lot of exciting things going on in Chicago.”

  “Yeah. I get it.” Her dull voice said she really didn’t.

  They left Ina’s, Harper’s mood slightly subdued and Skylar’s slightly mopey. Mild temperatures had given western Wyoming a perfect summer this year, or so Harper had heard. Today the temp sat lazily in the low eighties, but a slight, fresh breeze kept the air from overheating. In hazy sunshine, they walked past stores Harper had known her entire life, as well as a smattering of brand new businesses. And they passed military families galore—the new heart of Wolf Paw Pass’s demographic.

  Thanks to the ten-year-old Veteran’s Administration Medical Center between Wolf Paw and Jackson, along with the venerable military, fire, and police combined training facility west of Wolf Paw, the town’s once-tiny population of several hundred had swelled to nearly two thousand.

  Skylar barely paid attention to the businesses. The Have You Any Wool? yarn shop, next to A Piece-able World fabric shop got curious glances but no window shopping. They passed Wolf Paw Pass Office Supply, New Rags Clothing Boutique, Nelson Brothers Plumbing and Heating, and Wanda’s Wolf Paw Gifts. They were almost past Wanda’s elaborate Victorian door when Skylar stopped.

  “Look.” She pointed to a bright blue-and-green poster in the window.

  They read it silently together.

  The Wolf Paw Pass and Jackson Lions, along with Wolf Paw Pass Middle School and Jackson Southwest High School, present the third annual Warren A. Brenner VA Medical Center Art Exhibition and Competition. Participants from Jackson Hole Area Public Schools arts programs will be featured in a gallery-like showing combined with a fund-raising event for the arts in the public schools initiative. Winners will be chosen in five categories. Each winner will receive a $500.00 scholarship prize. One grand-prize winner will have the winning piece permanently displayed in the Brenner VA Medical Center. Tickets $5.00. Raffle tickets $3.00 to $25.00. Sunday, September 24th.

  “Oh man!” Skylar rocked back and then peered again at the poster. “I’ve never heard about this before.”

  “It sounds really cool. I’m glad the schools are doing something like this.”

  “This is the problem with your mom being your teacher. We don’t get to do anything cool like this. See, it says ‘public schools.’ ”

  “Maybe your mom could contact them and see if you could participate, too.”

  “She won’t. She’s on the homeschool co-op board, and they wouldn’t do something where the money goes to the public schools.”

  She was definitely a quick analyst, Harper thought. She studied the teen’s face and a sudden punch of recognition took her back. She’d once been right where Skylar was. Not maybe shut out of a contest, but shut out of acceptance. Thank God she’d had a great high school art teacher. She wasn’t sure Skylar even had that.

  “It can’t hurt to mention it anyway,” she said. “Maybe you guys could at least go to the exhibition and see what it’s like. That might give your mom some ideas about things you’d like to do.”

  “Sure. Maybe.”

  Skylar shuffled on without another word. After a momentary flash of excitement while looking at the poster, she now let her shoulders hang with defensive apathy. A block farther along Main Street, they reached the car, her dad’s old green Subaru Forester, parked in front of the Credit Union and a vacant lot that served as an access to Centennial Park and a network of hiking trails surrounding the town.

  “Sorry the trip ended in a downer,” Harper said.

  “It’s not a downer. It’s the same stupid stuff.”

  “Yeah. There’s a lot of stupid stuff, isn’t there?”

  She turned when a strange, high-pitched whine followed by a dull, uneven thumping, echoed from the lot. A random box bumped along the wall of the Credit Union.

  “Oh my gosh, look at that!” Skylar took off toward what Harper could now see, three-fourths of the way along the building, was an animal.

  “Be careful!” she called. “You’ve seen enough wild creatures on the ranch to know not to touch it.”

  Her words fell on deaf ears. Skylar knelt, hiding the thing from view, but clearly scooping it into her arms. Harper started across the grass. She met the girl along with the most pathetically eager black-and-white puppy that licked Skylar’s face from the cradle of her arms.

  “Goodness, what have we here?” Harper asked.

  Skylar’s angry face was back. “He was tied by a piece of clothesline around his neck to the punched-out handle on that cardboard box back there.” She held out a piece of crumpled white paper. “This was on the box.”

  “Free to good home,” Harper read. “He must have gotten loose from somewhere.”

  “There’s nobody around.” Her lip curled in scorn. “A puppy tied to a box wouldn’t be that hard to catch him. He could have strangled if the rope got caught.”

  Once again, Harper caught a flash of herself at that age: the would-be champion of underdogs.

  “I’m glad you got him free of it. We should probably take him to the police or maybe to Dr. Ackerman, the vet.”

  “Whatcha got there?”

  Harper spun at the familiar, deep voice calling from the sidewalk. Cole leaned against the side of the bank like a poster boy for tight T-shirts and sexy jeans, with his hair mussed as usual, his arms crossed at his chest. Her ten seconds of arrhythmia gave way to annoyance at his cheerful insouciance.

  “A puppy.” Skylar recovered from her speechlessness first and started toward him, with a shy smile. “Someone left it here.”

  “Seri
ously?” Cole straightened. “How do you know?”

  “We don’t for sure,” Harper said. “We’re about to take it to the vet’s I think.”

  “What will they do with it?” Skylar asked.

  “If they can’t find an owner, they’ll bring it to the shelter in Jackson. Or find a foster place.” Cole peered down at the dog in Skylar’s arms. “Do you know if it’s a male or female?”

  “I didn’t look.”

  “Can I?” He held out his hands.

  “I think we can deal with this.” Harper’s temper lit. He didn’t need to take charge of the moment as if she couldn’t handle this either.

  “I’m just takin’ a peek,” he said. “Or I’ll hold him up so you can do the honors. I’m sure you know how to sex baby animals.”

  As if someone had tossed a red slushie in her face, Skylar turned bright pink. The lunatic, Harper thought, didn’t he know what kind of trouble he could get into with a fourteen-year-old girl by blathering so carelessly. Besides, she’d warned him about the teen’s crush.

  “Knock it off, Cole,” she said. “Give me the dog.”

  “What are you two so pissy about?” They both looked at hot-faced Skylar, whose fourteen-going-on-age-twenty persona took charge with sarcasm that she used to try and mask her embarrassment.

  “Nobody’s pissy,” Cole said. “Harper is having a hard time leaving me behind.”

  “Cole is delusional because he’s going to grieve when I’m gone.”

  “That’s probably true enough.” He forced his mouth into sad pout made ridiculous by the twinkle in his eye.

  “Here.” Skylar turned the puppy over to him.

  “Traitor.” Harper scowled but bumped her with an elbow, careful to show she wasn’t annoyed with her.

  It was pretty hard to stay annoyed with Cole either, watching his big hands with the little black-and-white pup. He roamed them across its back, feeling for any injuries or spots that might indicate it had been abused. She knew this because she’d seen him do it countless times on an injured calf or wild animal.