Slade and Kally: Letting Go of the Reins, Book 1

by AE Rought

  “Why don’t I take them out? I need to bond with the little blighters if I’m going to be staying here.”

  Ilene laughed. The silent war between me and the Poms was news to no one. “Deal.”

  Tangerine balls of fluff danced and yipped at my feet. “Come on you two, let’s go brave the elements.” Bending down, I scooped the wriggling dogs to my chest and then eased the back door open with my butt. The backyard was sheltered from the wind, and was riddled with paths Steve had dug for the dogs. The Poms disappeared off into the labyrinth, barking at everything. In small doses, Tinker and Zip were cute and endearing, but after the lights went out and they stuck their tails in my face and barked at shadows…well, the cute wore off.

  Ilene stood in the center of the kitchen, holding the phone out to me when I brought the dogs back into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

  “You need to listen to this message.” I took the phone from her. “Just press the ‘1’ button and the message will play again. It’s so sweet, Kally.”

  I pushed the button and pressed the phone to my ear. Slade’s voice came through, a little melancholy, but still hopeful. “Hi, Kally…Things haven’t been the same at the Fourth Moon. Even your tomcat misses you. I’ve been feeding him lately. He likes the food but still hates me. I hope you’re all right. I…I miss you and would like to talk sometime. Call me, okay?”

  His recorded voice was enough to melt me. Blinking back tears, I held out the phone for her. “He is such a sweet guy.”

  “Yes he is.” She had an “I told you so” expression when she ignored the phone and moved past to the sink. “I’m going to take care of these dishes. I think you should go and call him back.”

  “Ooo-kay.” I took the phone into the living room and dropped into the armchair by the window. Sliding my toes along the windowsill, I pulled the curtains back and looked in the direction I imagined the ranch to be. My throat was tight, my mouth dry and my hand trembled. I braced the phone against the chair padding and dialed the Fourth Moon’s main number.

  After the third ring, the artificial, tinny voice asked me to “please leave your name and number after the beep.”

  “Hi, Slade. I’m okay, despite the craziness here at Ilene’s. I’d gladly take my tomkitty over two mouthy yapbox Pomeranians any day. Thanks for taking care of him. It means a lot to me.” I drew in a shaky breath. “Maybe we’ll actually connect on the phone one of these days.”

  After dinner, Ilene, our trays, my beer and I piled back into her car. The directions were taped to the dashboard, and the corner buzzed with each gust of heat from the vents. I curled my arms in over my chest and sighed. “Oh, come on, Kally.” A high blush pinked Ilene’s cheeks. “This will be fun. The girls are all excited to meet you.”

  She parked on the side street, one house down from Michelle’s festively decorated bungalow-style house. I picked my way along between the snow bank and string of parked cars. Serious doubt sat in my chest, keeping company with the sarcastic snort I stifled when I saw the deflated pink balloon dangling from the mailbox instead of floating. “Tell me what kind of party this is again?”

  “It’s a spa party. A bunch of girls, some snacks and cocktails, lots of make-up and lotions.”

  Oh goody. “Sounds like a blast.” The thinly veiled sarcasm was evident, even to me.

  Laughing, Ilene skated past an lit-up reindeer. “Somehow you don’t sound too enthused.”

  She could always see through me. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will. I want you to have fun too.” She skittered down the front walk, her bag swinging from one hand and the party platter of meats and cheeses, my contribution to the party, teetering in the grip of the other hand.

  Rock salt crunched beneath the heels and soles of my cowboy boots, but I was sure footed in comparison to Ilene. Her patent leather high heels were more like ice skates than shoes on the shoveled path. I reached for the platter, dangerously close to losing its payload of food. “Want me to carry the tray? We don’t want to lose it.”

  “Oh yes, please.”

  I took the tray in my right hand and wrapped my left arm around her waist. Relying on my cowboy boots, the two of us made it to the white light icicle-drenched house. Ilene’s friend Michelle opened the door, her obviously bleached platinum blonde hair swept into a side part. The hairstyle framed her smile when she broke into giggles. “Good lord, Ilene. Have you been drinking already?”

  “Hey, Michelle. You know it’s five o’clock somewhere.” Ilene took the tray and wriggled through the door. “Michelle, this is my life-long friend, Kally Jensen.”

  Michelle’s voice was high, saccharin sweet when she offered her hand for me to shake. “Hi, Kally. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Her hand was limp in mine. I fought the urge to drop it. “It’s nice to meet you too. Happy holidays.”

  Ilene hung her jacket on the coat rack by the door. I followed suit, stopping short of pulling off my boots. Heels of various sizes and colors cluttered the floor beside the door. I scuffed my boots on the mat and stepped onto the tile. “Do you want me to take my boots off?”

  Michelle handed me a cold beer and then winked. “Only if you want to have a pedicure.”

  “I think I’ll keep my boots on for a while…”

  Michelle’s false smile stretched her lipstick to its limits. “Isn’t she the cutest?”

  Suddenly I felt like a country bumpkin who’d moved in with her city slicker cousin. Ilene clapped me on the shoulder, nearly dislodging the beer bottle from my lips. “She’s a doll.” Then Ilene dragged me toward the Christmas tree, pretending to look at the ornaments. She spoke out the side of her mouth. “You are going to loosen up, aren’t you?”

  Growling wasn’t appropriate, but I considered it. My gaze locked on a frilly swan ornament with real feather wings. Begrudgingly, I walked back to the door, removed my boots and stood them next to Ilene’s shiny black heels. Inhale. Exhale. Release negativity. “I am loosened up, Ilene.”

  I lied. The tension in my jaw might damn well give me a headache before the night was through. I drank a few hearty swigs of beer to forestall brain pain for a few hours anyway. Girly stuff was never my thing, and to be picked on by the most feminine female in the room irked me. Michelle reminded me of Adelle Crawford. I wasn’t sure if it was the fake hair color, the obvious false boobs or the Catty Bitch shade of green eye shadow they both wore. God, please don’t let them put that color on me.

  Michelle carried the trays over to the table covered with heavy winter treats and crystalline snowmen. Ilene led me into a living room churning with women and reeking of artificial perfume. The pungent odors reminded me of how I missed the handmade natural lavender soaps at the Fourth Moon. Looking at the artsy furniture and poofed and painted women in the room, I yearned for the natural tans and crows-feet wrinkled ladies at the ranch.

  I tried my best to enjoy the games and circulating lotions and smellies. A shade of nail polish reminded me of the teeny pink roses on the quilt in my room back at the ranch, and after finishing my first beer, I offered my nails up for a manicure and paint job.

  The nail polish wasn’t even dry when Teresa, the over-done demonstrator, suggested a matching pedicure.

  I refused.

  She insisted.

  It could have become a vicious cycle, but she pushed the chair back, stopping dead at Slade’s snow-white tube socks on my feet. “Oh my word, honey. Those socks are…are they men’s?”

  My defensive side grew a voice. “Yes.” The “s” was a bit of a hiss.

  Michelle spoke up. “Don’t you have some trouser socks, Kally?”

  I curled my feet beneath the folding metal chair. They were my favorite socks. The ones Slade had worn the night he slept in my room. No Gillette priss queen was going to talk me out of them or insult them either. “I like these socks. They’re warm, soft and make my boots fit better.”

  Her brown eyes tilted, affecting an expression akin to pity. “Oh, h
un, there’s your problem right there. Ilene.” She waited for Ilene to clamber from her seat and negotiate the female body obstacle course. “Ilene, don’t you have heels and hosiery on sale in your department?”

  Ilene handed me another beer accompanied with a plate of snacks and an apologetic, “never mind her” expression. “Yeah, we have our annual sale going right now. In fact, Kally got her boots at our store too.”

  Michelle was quicker on the pick up than I expected. She climbed back into her seat. “Well, Kally, if you ever want a pedicure, you can come to my salon. We have all the same products there too.”

  “Good to know.” I made a big fuss over my manicure to make up for my snit. The pink dried prettier than I expected, with a soft sheen. In the back of my mind I wondered what Slade would think. His voice haunted me, his suede timbre in my mind. “Pretty, if ya like girly stuff. Is the paint chip-resistant?”

  Though I was two beers down, the female bonding session had lost its appeal, and Ilene could sense it in me. I yearned to be in the car, on the way home, past Ilene’s home and all the way back to the Fourth Moon. Taking my plate and a new beer, I curled into the corner of a sparsely populated sofa, but my serenity was short-lived. Ilene motioned from me to move my feet, and then wedged her little behind close enough to be sitting on my lap. “I spoke to Michelle…”

  “Oh? Does she think I’m an antifeminist nutbag?”

  “No, not at all. I told them you’ve had a rough few months. She said there is going to be a chair opening at her salon when one of her girls goes on maternity leave.” I wasn’t catching on to whatever Ilene hinted at, and looked at the beer bottle like I accused it of clouding my thoughts. “She wants you to come to work at her salon. Of course you’d need to be licensed here in Wyoming.”

  “Very nice of her.” I yawned. “Can we get going? I’m getting tired.”

  Ilene smiled, patted my shoulder. “You never could make it far past the second beer, could you?”

  My nose wrinkled in a yawn, my eyes squinting shut. “Nope, not sitting on my butt with a bunch of girls anyway.”

  Ilene left me in my comfortable corner, talked with Michelle a few more minutes and then packaged up the tray of meats and my last few beers. She stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, waving at me. “Come on, Kally, let’s get you home and put you to bed.”

  I stood and wove between the girls while they shouted their goodbyes and waved their hands like they were drying their nail polish. “Bye, all. And Michelle?”

  Her head popped up from a pow-wow at the table. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for having me and for the job offer. I’ll look into schooling.”

  Her smile was enormous. “Great! See ya around, Kally.”

  One battle with the boots and a slippery track to the Jeep later, Ilene clambered in behind the steering wheel. I dropped into the passenger seat and closed the door “So…what’s on tap for tomorrow? Another busy day?”

  “Well, it’s a Saturday, so Steve thought you might like to go to his favorite sports bar for a nice, laid-back meal.” She looked at me, yawning and rubbing my eyes. “Remind me not to let you drink any beers tomorrow.”

  The cloud of steam from our laughter obscured the windows, and we sat with the Jeep idling until the defroster cleared the windshield. The dark roads slipped beneath the tires while I struggled to stay awake. After a week of not sleeping well, I lost the battle. Ilene roused me when she parked the Jeep. “Kally, honey, we’re home.”

  My first thought was a fleeting hope of seeing the porch of the Fourth Moon. The back wall of the garage met my eyes and obliterated my dream.

  After stowing the meat tray and beer on the bench in the garage, in a spot easily visible to Steve, we kicked off the boots and shoes and staggered in. Steve stood in the middle of the hallway shaking his head, then laughed when he wrapped an arm around Ilene’s shoulders. I mumbled goodnight when they climbed the stairs to their bedroom. I tucked a sheet over the scratchy sofa fabric, pulled a blanket over me and crashed into sleep despite the Tinker hair on my pillow.

  We spent the following day huddled around Ilene’s computer desk in the corner of the living room. Screen after screen flashed by while we searched the Internet for information on procuring a Wyoming driver’s license and locating cosmetology schools and funding, all of which required a proof of legal Wyoming residence.

  Though I wanted to move forward with my life, I was not certain where I wanted to live. My heart longed for the hills and trees and loving company of the Fourth Moon, but a small part of my mind still argued against it. Following my heart and loving Slade was what got me here in the first place. If I hadn’t loved him, he couldn’t have hurt me, even though his crime seemed less and less severe. The more I thought about it, the more I could see his side, how it could very well have been him following his cop instincts to check a violent man’s background. What still bothered the hell out of me was he didn’t tell me.

  A phone call shattered the relatively easy afternoon. I expected it to be Slade and prepared myself to for an emotional conversation. Ilene looked at the caller ID, mouthed “my mother” and then took it into the other room to answer. Every fiber of my being shouted something was wrong. Ilene’s estranged mother never called her, the woman hadn’t even shown up for Ilene and Steve’s wedding. Why the hell was she calling Ilene now?

  By the time I’d logged out of my new email account and made it to the kitchen door, the conversation was over. Ilene sat at the table, ashen and shaking. I shouted for Steve and rushed to Ilene’s side. Steve’s feet thundered down the stairs and hall announcing his arrival in the kitchen. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  Her gazed passed from Steve’s face to mine. An unreadable shadow hung over her eyes. “She was calling to warn us. To warn you, Kally.”

  I dropped to my knees before her feet and took her hands. “What’re you talking about? Why would she be calling here to warn anybody?”

  “A private investigator forced his way into her home. He threw a copy of our yearbook and some newspaper articles about the girl’s volleyball team on her table and grilled her about our friendship back in school.” She twined and untwined her fingers. “She refused to say anything and he threatened her, said his client was not a patient or reasonable man…”

  My gut clenched around my lunch. “Oh God…Matt. He’s still trying to find me.”

  “And by the looks of things, Matt’s figured out we were best friends through school.”

  “And marriage certificates are a matter of public record, Kally,” Steve, always logical, chimed in. “If the P.I. could track things down to Ilene’s mother, he can certainly follow the paper trail here.”

  A panicky unease bubbled through me. “When did this happen, Ilene?”

  “Today. Just now. Right before she called me.”

  Steve put a hand on Ilene’s arm and one on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, girls. There has to be something we can do, some way to protect Kally.” Ilene attempted a smile. I’m sure mine looked more like a grimace. “And what you two nervous Nellys need is a night out. My treat. There’s not much we can do on a Saturday evening anyway. Monday morning, I’ll call an attorney and see what legal route we have.”

  Ilene looked at the clock and shrugged her shoulders. “It is damn near dinner time. We could sit here, worry ourselves sick, or we could go out, hide in a dark corner and force a couple beers down Kally’s throat…”

  I nodded. “I did sleep better last night than I have since I came here.”

  Steve’s eyebrows rose. “So we’re agreed then?”

  Sighing first, I quoted a very famous pirate movie. “We have an accord.”

  We were supposed to be going out for dinner, a fun, relaxed evening at Steve’s favorite sports bar. Passing under the neon sign festooned with ridiculous Christmas garland, I knew my fantasy was not coming true. Steve stopped a guy who looked every bit like a village snitch, the one who knew all the information and just where t
o leak it to his advantage. He looked over Steve, Ilene and me with a sense of disinterest before Steve asked him if Scott had arrived yet.

  “Oh yeah. He’s at the bar waiting.” His eyes turned bright and piercing. “So this is the girl? She’s cute…”

  “And you are moving on, Dave.” Steve pushed the mousy man on past us and out the door, giving Ilene the perfect opportunity to give me an apologetic glance before socking her husband in the shoulder. “Scott Weston from accounting? Good Lord, Steve. What were you thinking?”

  He shook his head, locking Ilene with a silencing gaze while I swirled down the drain of despair and Ilene simmered to a boil. One thing I loved about Ilene, you couldn’t shut her up if she thought something was wrong. “Damn it, Steve. Don’t you go all silent on me. Tell me you didn’t just set Kally up with that bookworm.”

  “Don’t call him a worm. There isn’t anything wrong with being smart.”

  “Smart? Smart?” Her voice rose sharply, her eyes widened. “He’s past smart, Steve. He’s in the goddamn—”

  “Okay, now stop it. There he is.” Steve pointed past a sparse branched, pitifully decorated artificial pine tree to a sandy haired guy of average height. His light brown hair was brutally short and his bangs had been forced into some sort of a Princeton style. It did set off his owl-like glasses nicely though. His refined features gave him an austere, almost snobby appearance. I rolled my eyes and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

  Scott was not the dark-haired, light-eyed rugged cowboy who made my heart sing. He wasn’t unattractive—just wasn’t attractive to me.

  With his head forward, Steve led the way to the bar, not realizing he had lost us steps from the door. I hung back a step and tugged on Ilene’s arm. “Scott’s in a what, Ilene?”

  She heaved a sigh and patted my hand. “He is in a think tank. All the guy talks about is books and world politics. You want to know the real price of tea in China? He’s the guy to ask.”