Lost Together

by Cynthia Knoble

  More tears fell. Had she done anything but cry since coming to Bison Bluffs? Sure, she was an emotional person, and had always cried easily, but it seemed like she cried non-stop here, over the intruder, the killing of Lucy, and many other things. So many tears. Yet these didn’t feel sad. They felt cathartic.

  “Thank you for listening to me.”

  “Of course. I’m here for you. You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded, but didn’t really believe it. How many times had she heard that before? Not just from Doug, but from the string of abusive men she’d dated. Thankfully none of them had been physically abusive, but they’d all excelled at psychological and emotional abuse. Every single one of them. Rory’s different. Was he? Doug had seemed different at first. It didn’t take long before he showed her who he truly was, and yet she’d stayed with him. She’d convinced herself the things he said weren’t so bad, and trudged on. At least she had a boyfriend, being alone would be worse. Yeah, he had a bad temper, but at least he didn’t hit her. Her excuses were endless. The truth of the matter was that Doug was cruel, and had battered her self-esteem ruthlessly.

  When Rory patted his chest, she shuffled closer to him, and then rubbed the side of her face against his smooth skin. He held her, gently stroking her shoulder as they discussed the ranch’s upcoming opening. Thankfully, he hadn’t dwelled on her issues, which stopped her from relating the problems she’d had with men. Rory probably wasn’t the best person to discuss them with anyway. As much as she wanted to share everything with him, her insecurities about herself in relation to men gave her pause. She didn’t think Rory would behave like Doug, or the others. Even so, she couldn’t help but think some of what Doug said was true. Rory was everything she wanted in a man, but she doubted she fulfilled his list of wanted attributes in a woman. She was a two, three, tops, and he was a ten. Maybe if she didn’t address it, it wouldn’t matter, but somehow she knew it would. It had to come into play at some point. It always did.

  Chapter 34

  After a few more days with Rory, Saffron’s thoughts on their situation had relaxed greatly. He hadn’t once given her any reason to suspect he wasn’t genuine. She still didn’t understand how he could love her body, but she’d stopped cringing inwardly when he complimented her. Admittedly, she didn’t inspect herself as harshly in the mirror any longer, now seeing things that were actually pretty, like her eyes. Much had changed since embarking on a relationship with Rory, and she liked the changes. Her confidence was growing, allowing her to believe he did want her as much as she wanted him. Self-doubt still reared, but the incidences were fewer and farther apart.

  Having accepted Zandra’s gracious invitation to lunch, they’d just arrived at the house Zandra shared with Boone, the one in which, until recently, Rory had also lived in. The front door was open, and, after opening the screen door, Rory ushered Saffron inside, calling out to Zandra as he did. He then removed his boots as Saffron slipped off her shoes, and took a cursory look down the hallway before her, and into what little she could see of the rooms that led off it, including the kitchen at its end, cupboards visible from her vantage point. Everything was impeccably clean, and Saffron thought she’d better give her own house a good scrub-down before inviting Zandra to it. Her house wasn’t dirty, but she knew there were a few dust-bunnies kicking around it, unlike this house.

  Zandra rushed down the hallway from the kitchen, and threw her arms around Rory. The pair were so happy to see one another, even as they often did, it brought a smile to Saffron’s lips, loving how close they were. Then Zandra surprised Saffron by delivering a quick hug to her.

  “I’m so glad you could come today,” she said. “I know how busy you are getting the ranch ready for opening. Come on in, and have a seat in the living room. Lunch is ready, but let’s relax with a drink first.” She looked to Rory. “Go get Saffron a drink.”

  He grinned. “Yes, sissy, and thanks for not being bossy today.”

  Zandra stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed before looking at Saffron. “What would you like? There’s beer, my guess is Zandra has a bottle of white wine around here somewhere. There usually isn’t any hard liquor in the house, but, unless I’m wrong, there’s probably a good selection of soft drinks.”

  “A glass of wine would be wonderful, if it’s no trouble,” Saffron ventured.

  “No trouble at all,” Zandra assured her, “and, although I hate to admit it, Rory’s right, I always have a bottle around.” She chuckled, and then looked to Rory. “You can get me a glass, too. Saffron and I will be in the living room.”

  He saluted before he left, and Zandra shook her head a little as she motioned toward a room. “Please, after you.”

  Saffron walked into the room she’d caught a small peek at from the hallway. The living room was quite spacious, as it was a small house, similar to her own, and had a dining set at the far end. Obviously a living room/dining room combo, it was as clean as she’d expected and nicely decorated, although it had an older feel to it, despite the newer furnishings. Guessing modern furniture wasn’t Zandra’s thing, a sentiment she shared, a line of photos on the mantle of the fireplace caught her eye.

  “May I?” she asked as she gestured to them.

  “Of course,” came the reply from Zandra who moved with her to the fireplace.

  The row of framed photographs seemed to run from older family shots to newer ones. She assumed the first photo was of the entire Bukowski family, with Mrs. Bukowski sitting in a chair, a tiny girl with pigtails, undoubtedly Zandra, on her lap, Mr. Bukowski standing behind her, flanked by a teen boy who was nearly as tall as he was, Boone, and a younger boy stood beside Mrs. Bukowski. She smiled at the sight of young Rory, figuring he was around six or seven at the time the photo was taken.

  “Those are our parents,” Zandra confirmed. “I was three in that picture, Rory was six, and Boone was eleven.”

  “Eleven?” she questioned unbelievingly. “He was so tall!”

  “Yeah, he’s six foot-seven now. He was about five-ten or so then. My dad was six-foot, like Rory, and Boone’s almost as tall as Dad in the picture.”

  “Six-seven?” She realized she was parroting Zandra but couldn’t help it, astounded at the thought Boone was so tall. As children, the Bukowskis were adorable, even as Boone had the look of awkward adolescence descending, the time when all children looked gangly, and not quite right. Saffron could gag thinking about how awful she’d looked between the ages of eleven and thirteen, chunky, but getting taller, her limbs seemingly unbalanced with her torso, kind of like an orange with straws stuck in it. She moved on to the next photo, and gasped inwardly. Another family photo, this one featured Boone in an RCMP uniform—the dress version, complete with red serge jacket, hat, jodhpurs, and boots—surrounded by the rest of the family. He was so handsome in the photo, although still young, and she adored the proud looks on not just his parents’ faces, but also those of Rory and Zandra.

  “That was Boone’s graduation day, from police training, we went to Regina to see it,” Zandra informed her. “That was an awesome day.”

  “He looks so young to have graduated.”

  “He was nineteen.”

  Unable to comprehend how a nineteen year old could handle being a police officer, she realized a year later Boone had the added responsibility of raising his younger siblings. Now she wondered if this was the last photo taken of the entire Bukowski family. Almost in answer to her query, the next photos on the mantle were of Zandra, Rory, and Boone, sometimes solo, sometimes together, from their teens to adulthood. She paused at the last photo, one of Rory, seeing the dullness in his eyes, certain it was taken after his release from the penitentiary. The contrast between his eyes in this photo and earlier ones was startling.

  Rory entered the room, wine glasses in hand and, as he passed one to her, Saffron examined his eyes. They were bright, practically dancing with glee. He truly was over that time, the hopeless stage of not being able to rebuild his life. She
knew she’d helped, maybe not as much as he suggested, but she had been a part of his transformation from that beaten-down man to the vibrant, confident one who stood before her now.

  After lunch, the trio sat at the dining room table for some time, with Saffron and Zandra getting to know one another better. No longer feeling on guard around Zandra, as she had during their first meeting at The Scruffy Goose, Saffron found she liked Rory’s sister, quite a lot. She was friendly, kind, and a heck of a cook. She’d made pierogi, from scratch, with bacon and onions, served with sour cream. The meal was truly delicious, Rory had devoured two heaping platefuls, and Saffron had made a mental note to ask Zandra for the recipe before leaving. While Rory liked the meals she made for him, she wanted to serve him pierogi occasionally, something he obviously loved, and a dish that undoubtedly connected him to his family.

  “You know, I always wanted green eyes,” Zandra told Saffron. “Yours are so beautiful.”

  Saffron, who thought Zandra’s huge hazel eyes were stunning, was surprised at the compliment. “Thank you. Your eyes are beautiful, too, I swear they’re the same shade as Rory’s.”

  “Our mother’s eyes,” Zandra related, with a wistful smile. “Boone got our dad’s eyes, dark brown.”

  “Speaking of Boone, he thinks your eyes are beautiful, too,” Rory said as he locked gazes with Saffron. “I sent him a picture of you. He said you were really pretty.”

  “You sent him a picture of me?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

  She was surprised he had, but reasoned she shouldn’t be. After all, she’d sent a photo of Rory to Tansy recently. Trying to shake off the disbelief he’d show her off, as she had him, she shrugged. “I just didn’t expect you to, that’s all. It’s no biggie.” It really wasn’t, and she had to stop questioning his belief in her attractiveness. He’d made it obvious he thought she was beautiful, and that was all that mattered.

  Zandra placed a hand on Rory’s forearm to get his attention. “I have something for you. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  When she returned to the room a few moments later, she had a large box in her hands. A hatbox, Saffron realized as she read the logo on its side. Rory let out a gasp, and his eyes were wet when they moved from the box to Zandra.

  “That’s not a … did you get me a …” He didn’t appear capable of finishing his sentence, and Saffron wondered why he’d be so moved by a hat, not recognizing the name of the hat company she’d spotted, but thinking Rory most definitely had, and seemed blown away by it.

  Zandra laughed softly. “Boone got it for you, to congratulate you on your job.”

  She held the box out, and Rory’s hands shook slightly as he took it from her. Placing it on the table, he opened it, and then, eyes brimming with tears, but wearing a huge grin, he pulled out a cowboy hat so white it was almost blinding, even in the subdued lighting of the room. His fingers slipped over the brim of it with obvious reverence, deepening Saffron’s curiosity. It looked like a normal felt cowboy hat to her. He stood, put it on, and she swore he grew an inch taller as he moved to look at himself in the mirror that hung over the sideboard. There was a proudness about him she hadn’t seen before. What was up with the hat?

  After returning to the table, he pulled Zandra to her feet and enveloped her in a hug, then looked at Saffron. “You’re probably wondering what the big deal is with the hat.” As she got to her feet, she nodded. She sure was. “I think I already told you that Zandra, Boone, and I are from Calgary. These hats, well, some Calgarians love them, others hate them. They’re a symbol of both the city, and The Stampede, but some folks think it’s an old-fashioned symbol that isn’t relevant to Calgary any longer.”

  She remembered seeing the hats before, but hadn’t really known they had any significance. The Calgary Stampede was a well-known event, of course, drawing tourists from around the world to its festivities. She’d always wanted to attend it, having seen it televised, the rodeo events not nearly as appealing to her as the thought of all those cowboys gathered in one place. Ah, the dreams of city-girls. Hot cowboys certainly topped the list and—who would have ever guessed?—she now had one of her own.

  He shrugged. “I always wanted one of these hats. When we were younger, our parents took us to the Stampede every year without fail. I looked forward to it, and always loved going. Even as a teen, when I didn’t really enjoy family outings anymore, I always loved going there.” He paused, and swallowed hard enough for her to see his Adam’s apple bob deeply. “When my parents died, Boone couldn’t take us there. He had to work so much to take care of us, he didn’t have the time to take us, and probably couldn’t afford it either.” His eyes drifted to Zandra and Saffron’s followed, seeing the tears in Zandra’s eyes. When Rory spoke again, he had Saffron’s rapt attention, his story already saddening her. “I’d been saving money, from odd neighbourhood jobs, to buy one of these hats, but I used it to take Zandra to the Stampede, just for one day. I figured Boone wouldn’t let me take her on my own, she was only twelve then, but I took her anyway, without asking him if I could. I knew—” His voice died as his chin quivered. Saffron was set to leap forward to take him in her arms when Zandra drew closer to him, and took his hand in hers. Then she looked at Saffron.

  “He knew I needed some semblance of our old life. We had a great day out, so much so that we were late coming home, and Boone busted us. He was furious we’d spent the day in a potentially dangerous place, not to mention us travelling back home at night. He thought Rory had snuck me in there. He was yelling, and asking what kind of behaviour was that for Rory to teach his little sister. I started to cry, and Rory got really mad. He told Boone we just wanted a day like the ones we used to have when we were a family. He didn’t sneak me in, he paid for the tickets, because Boone wouldn’t take us, because he never had time for us anymore. Then Rory told Boone that he might buy us stuff we needed, but what I really needed was a family, not a new dress.” Zandra cleared her throat, and dabbed under her eyes. Her voice was strained with emotion, and she visibly struggled to get the rest of the story out. “Boone hugged us both, really hard as I remember. He told us he was sorry for not being there for us. We all cried as we hugged each other.” Then she smiled, even with tears slipping down her cheeks. “Boone gave us ice cream for breakfast the next morning. After that, things were better for all of us because Rory and Boone didn’t argue any more.”

  Rory pulled Zandra into an embrace, and kissed the top of her head. Saffron was about to step back, to give them privacy, when he snatched her elbow, and pulled her into his arms, too. In that moment, she knew she loved him. It wasn’t pity for him and all he’d been through, it was undeniable love for him. He was a wondrous man, and obviously always had been. He’d suffered so much though, and she vowed to do anything she could to make his life better. That included not burdening him with her emotional baggage. She knew she couldn’t tell him of the things that still weighed on her, how men in the past had treated her, and how her esteem had suffered as a result. Those things were so piddly compared to what he’d been through. It was more than that though, she refused to relate anything that could possibly upset him. He’d shouldered enough.

  Chapter 35

  “I just don’t know what’s going on with Tymyn,” Tansy bemoaned over the phone. “Ever since we fought over having a baby, all we do is fight. I really think our relationship is coming to an end. Of course, I don’t know how that’s going to work out, with the shop and all, but—” She sighed. “You know what? Never mind about all that. I’d rather talk about you and Rory. How are things going?”

  “Amazing, really and truly amazing. He’s, well, he’s too good to be true.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Saff. He seems like a great guy, and you deserve to be happy. Which you obviously are, by the way, I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Thanks. It’s just, well, I hate that I’m so happy with my relationship while yours is …”

  “Falling apart?” Tansy offered.
“Seriously, don’t feel bad about it. There’s plenty of issues between Tymyn and me. I guess that argument just unearthed them. It’s just not meant to be. I’m not that sad, to tell you the truth, disappointed, sure, but I see this as a learning experience. Things were great with him for a long time. Yeah, it kinda sucks to part, but if we’re not truly compatible, then there really is no point in remaining together.”

  It sounded like the old Tansy on the phone, and Saffron couldn’t be happier, despite knowing her sister was more upset than she alluded to. Tansy had always been the optimist, able to look ahead to the future, and not dwell on the past. “That’s an extremely mature approach. You’re pretty incredible, you know.”

  Tansy laughed softly. “Well, as long as you and Basil think so, I guess it doesn’t matter that Tymyn doesn’t. Enough about him, really, tell me more about Rory.”

  “Oh, Tansy, he’s just so amazing. I really don’t even know where to start. He’s generous, caring, affectionate, and so funny. I, well, I’m in love.”

  A gleeful squeal issued over the line. “That just made my day! I guess it’s safe to say you got over the whole ex-con thing, huh?”

  “Yeah, and I need to tell you that you were right. It shouldn’t have mattered to me then, because it certainly doesn’t now. In fact, I’ve been thinking about asking him to move into the house with me. I mean, he’s already on the property, and it just doesn’t make sense for him to be back and forth to the bunkhouse when we’re the only two people here. He sleeps in my bed every night. We’re already practically living together, but I want to make it official. I just think that … maybe it’s too soon. We’ve only been together for a week. It’s too soon, right?”

  “Absolutely not. If your heart tells you it’s real, then it is. Ask him,” Tansy urged.

  “But he could think it’s too soon. Or not want to move in at all, ever.”