by Chiah Wilder
“Where’re we going?”
“Nice try. Now get moving.” He winked at her and left the room.
When she entered the main room, she saw Paco propped against the bar talking with a couple of other guys. It looked like they were deep in conversation when she sidled up to him and swept her fingers across his forearm. “Hey,” she said softly when he looked down at her.
His eyes slowly raked over her body before returning to her face. “Hey.” His deep voice and piercing gaze made her a bit weak in the knees. “You ready to go?” She nodded and he took the duffle bag from her hands. “I’m outta here. See you tomorrow,” he said to his brothers.
“We’re not taking the Harley?” she asked when they walked past it in the lot.
“No. We’ll take the SUV.” He opened the door and helped her in.
Excitement bubbled inside her as she wondered where they were going. It must be kinda far since we’re staying the night. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips and then started the engine. Soon they were on the highway heading east, the strains of bluesy rock from George Thorogood & The Destroyers filling the car.
Sage brush, cacti, and sandstone stretched out before them, and in the distance, jagged mountain peaks covered in snow were a stark contrast to the desert’s reddish-brown rock formations. Birds flew gracefully in the air, jackrabbits hopped across the terrain, and lizards darted behind rocks.
“The landscape is beautiful,” she murmured.
Paco placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed it lightly. “I love it here. The contrast between the desert and the mountains is awesome. Look at it. It’s barren and dry with different shades of brown, and just at the edge of it, you have huge mountains.” He slowly shook his head in awe as he pointed to one in particular. “Some are almost thirteen thousand feet or higher—filled with pine forests, open meadows, creeks, and waterfalls. It’s a kickass mixture of fantastic landscapes. It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Placing her hand over his, she turned to him and smiled. “I keep learning new things about you.”
He glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
“I can bet that most people who see you think you’re a tough, badass biker who’s one-dimensional, but you’re so much more.”
“You mean I’m not just a walking stereotype?” He threw her a teasing smile.
Chelsea shook her head. “Not at all. I mean, there’s a definite badass vibe you’ve got going on, but you have so many layers, I’m guessing not too many get to see very often.”
“You got me there. I normally don’t hand out too much info about myself. Kinda like you.”
“Yet, we’ve both opened up to each other. I find that you’re easy to talk to.”
“Yeah. I like talking to you. It’s good to share, you know?”
“It’s been so long since I did any of that. When Bobby used to drive us all around the country, I never paid attention to the scenery. All I could think about was keeping him happy so he wouldn’t beat me. Sometimes, I’d wonder what the new truck stop was like, or how I could escape from him. Driving on the open road with you makes me see things in a new and wonderful light, and I like it. Thanks for that.”
As he stroked the side of her face, she caught his hand and brought it to her lips and kissed it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve let a woman get to know me.”
I bet he’s thinking of Cassie. Should I bring her up?
“I fucking love this song.” He turned the radio’s volume up and beat out the tune with his hands on the steering wheel as he sang along.
“What is it?”
He glanced at her. “It’s ‘Freewheel Burning.’ Judas Priest fucking rules.”
She laughed as he immersed himself in the song. When it came to music, she was so out of the loop. Before her life had changed, she loved pop rock and pop punk bands. Her favorites were Paramore, The Pretty Reckless, and All Time Low, but she hadn’t been able to listen to anything she wanted. The music at the strip bars she’d been forced to work at over the years would forever conjure up bad memories.
Paco got off at the next exit, then made another right, and soon they were driving down tree-lined streets surrounded by two-story, stucco and wood houses on both sides. He continued meandering around several neighborhood streets until they ended up on a road that looked like it was a set in a western movie. Two-story, red brick buildings seemed to be the norm on Main Avenue, and the only five-story buildings were two hotels on each side of the road. As they drove down the street, Chelsea could actually feel the ghosts of the past clinging to the historic structures. Surrounding the small city were the craggy peaks of the San Juan Mountains.
After turning off Main Avenue, Paco stopped in front of a two-story brick building with green awnings over the windows, a large stagecoach wagon-wheel mounted on the left façade, two white columns framing a large front porch, and a metal sign above the porch which read “Palmer Hotel.” Spruce, fir, and bare maple trees flanked the hotel, and a wooden fence curved around each side of it. A man dressed in jeans and a checkered shirt came out just as Paco got out of the car. He handed the man the keys then opened the back door and took out the two duffel bags.
Chelsea took Paco’s hand and walked up the stairs to the large wooden and brass door. Inside, the lobby was decorated in an Old West motif, furnished with period antiques, handwoven rugs, and wall-hangings. A crackling fire in a stone fireplace lent an air of coziness and casualness. Several guests sat in over-stuffed couches and chairs near the fire, reading books and sipping drinks.
“We’ve got our key,” Paco said, and she turned around and followed him up the stairs.
When Paco opened the door, the scent of cinnamon and crisp apples wafted through the air, and the first thing Chelsea saw was the view of the snow-capped mountain peaks from the large window. A fireplace was nestled in a corner, opposite a large bed covered in a colorful puff quilt, reminiscent of the ones her grandmother used to make. I wonder if Grandma is still alive. Turning away from Paco, she brushed her fingers over her eyelids, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to escape.
“You like the room?” he asked as he placed the bags on top of a long, cherry wood dresser.
“It’s beautiful, especially the quilt.” She ran her hand over it, pressing her fingertips into the fiberfill of the eclectic squares. “My grandma taught me how to make these quilts. I wasn’t as good as she was, but it was fun to sit together and quilt in the wintertime. She’d always make these awesome sugar cookies and the best cocoa I’ve ever had.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I haven’t thought about quilting in years.”
He came up to her and curled his arms around her waist, drawing her against him. “You’ll have to make one for my nephew. My sister would love it.” He kissed the top of her head.
“I don’t know if I’d remember how to do it. I guess I could watch some tutorials on YouTube. I’m sure they have them.”
“Or you could ask your grandma to help out when you get home.”
She inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled. “I don’t know if my grandma is still living.” Paco squeezed her tighter. Not wanting to let any sadness take over the joy she’d felt before they came into the room, she dipped her head back and looked up at him. “I’m going to have to check out some of the antique stores I saw on Main Avenue. My aunt Sandy, my mom, and I used to go antique shopping once a month. I love old stuff.”
He skimmed her lips with his. “We’ll go, but first we’ve got a train to catch.”
“A train?”
“Yeah. I wanted you to see Cascade Canyon—it fucking rocks. It’s one of my favorite places to go in the summer and fall. Since it’s winter, I thought we’d take a train ride through the area. I didn’t think you’d want to snowshoe through the canyon.”
She laughed. “You thought right. Walking through the snow in freezing weather isn’t exactly high on my list, but I’d love to see the canyon. When do we have to be at the stati
on?”
“Pretty soon. Freshen up if you want, and then we’ll head over. The depot is just a five minute walk from here.”
She stroked Paco’s face then tugged it down closer to hers. He met her lips with his, and they stood kissing in the middle of the room. Her body tingled; warmth, love, and happiness filled every inch of her. After so many years of degradation and anguish, Chelsea felt as though she was in the midst of a beautiful dream, one she never wanted to end. Paco made her feel happy that she was alive.
“I’ll just be a few minutes, then we can go.” She opened her bag, took out her makeup case, and went into the bathroom.
A coal-fired, steam powered locomotive pulled the train on the very same tracks that miners, cowboys, and settlers of the west traveled over a century ago. Paco had booked a private car for them, and now Chelsea was comfortably sitting in the plush, green velvet seat with her face mere inches away from the window, watching the spectacular and breathtaking scenery as the train wound around the bend of the San Juan National Forest. A gentle hush cloaked the land, and snow-dusted trees sparkled under the sun’s rays. Towering pines and snowcapped peaks made the area feel mystical to her. She could imagine the burst of color from the wildflowers in the summer or the golden hues of the aspens in autumn, and she understood why Paco loved this place so much. It offered beauty and solitude and touched the soul. And he’s sharing it with me.
A soft knock on the door had her turning toward it.
“Come in,” Paco said, and a man in black attire stood in the doorway.
“Would you like anything to eat or drink?” he asked. His outfit looked like something out of a Hollywood western.
“I’ll have a double shot of Jack.” Paco swept her hair away from her neck and breathed into her ear. “What would you like?”
Warmth spread through her. “I’ll have a Coke and a bottle of water. Oh, do you have any pretzels or nuts?”
“We have mixed nuts and pretzels. Would you like some?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
When the waiter left, she turned back to the lovely scenery. “I can see why you love it here. I bet it’s a great hike when the weather is warmer.”
“It is. You can go deeper into the canyon. There’re a lot of creeks, waterfalls, and open meadows. When I need to recharge shit in my life, I come here. It somehow puts everything in perspective.”
“I bet it does. How long have you been coming here?”
“For about six years or so.”
After Cassie broke up with him. Overcome with emotion, she turned toward him and kissed him deeply. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
He hugged her close to him. “I wanted to. You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here. I’m glad I was able to do it before lockdown starts tomorrow.”
“And you leave,” she added softly.
The train ride was just under four hours, and when they arrived back at the station, Paco held her hand and guided her toward Main Avenue where they spent the next two hours exploring antique shops. Despite her protests, he bought her an antique amethyst crystal vase that she’d admired, along with a Navajo sand painting of a warrior atop his horse, several postcards circa 1870, and a small, framed watercolor of Cascade Canyon. As they walked out of the last antique store, thoughts of happiness, excitement, and even love had Chelsea’s mind reeling. Love was the tricky one because she didn’t want to frighten him away. Paco had shared many things with her, so she knew he liked her, but did his feelings go beyond that? Can he ever love another woman the way he did Cassie? Is he just showing me a good time because of what I’ve been through?
“I was thinking Mexican for dinner. Is that good with you?” he asked, cutting through her musings.
She nodded. “Sure. Can we go now? I’m pretty hungry.”
He chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. We can have an early dinner then go back to the room. I’ll light a fire and show you a real good time.”
Heat flushed through her. “Sounds like a great plan.” She smiled and grasped his arm. Pressing against it, she kissed his cheek lightly. “Thanks for giving me one of the best days of my life.” He lifted his chin at her and they walked down the street, his free hand holding the sacks from the store.
As she sipped her margarita, Paco’s gaze bore into her.
“You’re going to have to get some ID when you get back home,” he said.
“I know. I was wondering if they were going to serve me this margarita.”
“If I didn’t know Francisco, they wouldn’t have.” Paco picked up a chip and dipped it in the tomatillo salsa.
“You must come here often. You seem to know a lot of people.”
“Once in a while, I’ll come to this town with a few of the brothers to hang out at some of the bars or play pool. It’s a change of scenery from Alina.” Then he added, “The hiking I do alone.”
Taking a big gulp of her drink, she looked away. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?” The fluttering in her stomach made her hold her breath.
His face grew tight and his brows furrowed. He gripped the beer bottle and took a long drink. She didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he caught her gaze. “Yeah.” He motioned to the waitress for another beer and leaned back in the chair. “You must be looking forward to going home.”
He changed the subject real fast. Don’t push it. You don’t want the demons from his past affecting this perfect day. “I am. I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing my mom and my sister, my grandma—hopefully—and Aunt Sandy, too. I’m not so anxious to see Peter.”
“What’s the deal with your stepdad?”
“We just never got along. In the beginning, I resented him for trying to act like he was my dad or my good friend. I got that my mom needed him to help her out financially and to keep her company, but I didn’t care for him. When I started becoming interested in boys, he acted like a dictator or something. I don’t know. Peter also had problems with alcohol. Once my mom married him, my growing years were chaotic and punctuated by fights. For my mom’s sake, I hope he’s sobered up.”
“That’s tough. It’ll be an adjustment for you when you get back home. I know you’ll be able to do it, but just know it won’t be easy. Although, going to therapy should help you a lot.”
I’m going to miss you so much, Paco. She blinked rapidly. “Do you ever see your aunt and uncle who you stayed with when your mom died?”
“Nah. After I was old enough to be on my own, I left. Kendra fared better with them and their fucking rules. Like I told you, they weren’t thrilled that they got stuck with us after my old man went to prison. I can’t say I blamed them. Money was tight, and they already had five kids. While I was with them, I worked after school at a drugstore, sweeping up and stocking shelves to help out.”
“You didn’t have any other relatives?”
“Nope. My old man was estranged from his family, so we never knew them, and my mom only had a sister. My maternal grandparents died when I was young.”
“I bet you and your sister have a close bond.” He nodded as he put some carnitas in a corn tortilla, rolled it, and took a big bite. “I’d like to meet her.” I still want to be a part of your life even when I go home.
He wiped his hands on the napkin. “Someday. I think you two would hit it off. She’s a friendly person.”
Chelsea smiled. “And likes to chat?” He chuckled. “Maybe I could come back for a visit sometime.” Her heart thrummed.
Lifting up his beer bottle, he locked gazes with her. “Maybe.” He brought the bottle to his lips and took a drink.
Her stomach lurched. He didn’t say, ‘For sure.’ Just ‘maybe.’ I’ll probably never see him again.
“Anything else?” the waitress asked.
“Two flans,” he replied.
All of a sudden, she’d lost her appetite. “I don’t want any dessert,” she said softly.
He gave a half shrug and smiled at the waitress. “Just one then.”
Wh
en they came back to the hotel, Chelsea’s mood had lightened, and she’d decided that she was going to enjoy every second that she spent with Paco. He was the only man who treated her like a person and not a pair of tits. Whenever they spoke, he talked to her, and when he held her in his arms, kissing her and fucking her, he didn’t see her as an object. He saw her—Chelsea.
“Let me get a fire started. It’s so damn cold out,” he said as soon as they walked into the room.
“I’m sure my frozen feet have turned blue. I’m gonna go change.” She grabbed the duffel bag and went into the bathroom. Taking out the T-shirt he gave her the night he picked her up in Silverado, she wondered if he’d let her keep it when she returned home. Just having his scent wrapped around her made her feel safe and fuzzy all over. She slipped it over her head, finger-combed her hair, then went back into the room.
Paco had his shirt up over his face as he tugged it over his head, then threw it on the chair by the window. Her eyes traveled over his body, drinking in his tangled hair, his rock-hard chest, and the trail of hair that slid under his waistband.
He walked up to her, his lips seizing her mouth as his tongue pressed against hers. His hand roamed down her body, slipping under the T-shirt and cupping her ass, squeezing it lightly. “I love that you’re still wearing my T-shirt,” he whispered over her lips.
“Can I keep it?” she whispered back.
“It’s all yours, baby.” He pinched her ass cheek and pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched as he ambled to the bathroom, admiring his tight ass and muscular legs before going over to the window. Outside, the street lights illuminated the roads in pools of yellow as several people milled around on the sidewalks. The mountains stood silhouetted against the darkened sky, and the wind weaved through the trees, shaking their bare branches.
She heard Paco’s footfalls as they came behind her. His hands touched her shoulders, sweeping her hair over one of them, as he placed feathery kisses on the back of her neck. She relaxed into him, reveling in the way his kisses made her body tingle and quiver with desire. He pulled back a little and before she could react, something cool glided around her neck. Her fingers flew up, grasping a pendant that hung down from a chain.