Hart & Stocker

by Max Ellendale

  "Random places. You?"

  "I really only hung out at one place." I fiddled with the soggy napkin on the counter. "Until a shitty breakup."

  Dax smirked, her gaze dropping to the beaded bracelet on my wrist as the conversation lulled again.

  "What was the place?" she asked after a lengthy pause.

  My stomach clenched the way it always did in situations where someone's response could've been unexpected. Or expected, as it might be. "Wildrose. Heard of it?"

  Her gaze shot to mine straightaway. "Sure, yeah. Knew a few of the regulars there."

  "You did?" My question lifted a pitch with her disclosure. Admitting knowing about Wildrose was the equivalent of coming out, in my opinion.

  "Yeah. You know Eve?" she asked, unmoved by the nature of the conversation it seemed.

  "She's a detective, right?"

  Dax nodded. "Hooked up with her once or twice over the years. Nothing serious."

  "I only know her by face and name, not much else."

  "Who was the bad breakup?" she asked, and only then did I realize she was asking questions back at me instead of one-sided.

  I hesitated, fiddling with the mouth of the beer bottle. "You know the owner of Wildrose?"

  Dax's expression dulled and she nodded. "Yeah. Avoid her."

  "Too late."

  "Shit." Dax ran her fingers through her thick, silky mane as if she tried to distract herself from the uncomfortable reveal. "Sorry you even knew her. She's a cheater."

  "Yeah. That's exactly right. Cheated on her girlfriend with me while cheating on me with some guy," I said through a contemptuous smile. "That was like four years ago or so. Then my dad died and I came out here."

  "I'm sorry, Willa." When she said my name, it brought me pause as I noted it was the first time she didn't call me Hart or Pig Girl.

  "Shit happens, doesn't it?"

  "All the time." Again, she ran her fingers through her hair and I wondered if that was her nervous habit.

  "I didn't know you were gay, by the way. I hope I didn't make this weird," I said, rolling the base of the bottle on its edge idly.

  "To be fair, I'm not," she said. When my brow furrowed, she elaborated. "Bi. For the most part."

  "Oh, okay. Yeah." My heart sank for a second then lifted a moment later. "I get it. While we're talking about bad relationships, what's the deal with Drew?"

  "No deal. We hooked up once when I moved back here." She glanced over my shoulder toward the pool table as if checking to see if he was there.

  "Seemed pretty serious enough to warrant getting his ass kicked."

  "Nothing pisses me off more than a guy who doesn't understand what a hook up means. He can fuck off," she said, her shoulders tightening with her posture.

  "Well, next time he bothers us, I'll tell him to fuck off for you since you did the same for me. Except I'll use less strangulation." I lifted my hands in a mock choking gesture.

  She laughed, and the way her gaze lingered on mine changed. Behind her steely gaze, I saw something more vulnerable, tinged with a sprinkle of fear. In that moment, she lost her voice again, and my understanding of Dax increased a fraction. Her gaze returned to my bracelet, as if examining each of the purple and blue crystals.

  "What are the names of your goats?" I asked, seemingly at random.

  "Grape, Mango, and Kiwi," she said, her voice soft.

  The gentle sounding fruity names made me smile. "Cute. Do you breed them?"

  "Esteban smuggled them out of a slaughterhouse. We decided to keep them."

  I turned my wrist over, and her eyes followed the bracelet when it shimmied closer to my hand. I touched it, rolling it around a little. "You like this?"

  "Is it amethyst?"

  "Yes and lapis." I took it off and held it to her.

  A tentative gaze landed on mine, and she hesitated, glancing between the bracelet and me. I remained steadfast, and eventually she plucked it from my fingers with care.

  She let it fall against her palm with it resting between her pinky and ring finger as she checked it out. "Did you make it?"

  I shook my head. "I got it at the festival last year."

  I watched her examine it, thumbing over the smooth stones as if taking in their very nature. From somewhere behind us, a bang sounded when someone set a chair back on the floor after they finished dancing. Dax started, her entire demeanor shifting from relaxed and engaged, to tense and distant. She set the bracelet on the counter, and turned away from me to face the bottles of liquor again.

  "I better go," she said, shoving away from the stool. "Night, Hart."

  "Bye."

  I watched as she walked away from me, without looking at me, and headed through the line of dancers to the exit.

  Chapter Four

  "Will." Sage's voice broke through my haze. "Willa."

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you fishing for soda cans?" She pointed to the end of my line where a Coke can dangled from the hook. In my daydreaming state, I hadn't even noticed it there. I pulled it into the boat, and tucked it into the trash bag we'd brought with us.

  We postponed our fishing trip for two weeks due to weather, though today, yet again, the sun shone down on Sunny Sequim.

  "Auntie Will, Daddy says we have to eat what we catch." Macie pointed at my fishing pole. "We can't eat cans!"

  "Sorry, little babe." I grabbed her into a hug and smooched her cheek. "We'll catch that halibut. Don't you worry."

  "Macie, go up front and ask Daddy if he's ready for lunch, would you?" asked Sage.

  "'Kay." Macie set down her pink fishing pole and jumped her way to the front of the boat where Jake sat at the wheel, flicking through the manual about his new fishing rod.

  I set my pole down and sat on the benches that lined the sides of the deck.

  "You're very quiet lately, Will. What's going on?" Sage's gaze narrowed with her question.

  "I'm not sure. I'm preoccupied and moody. Probably PMS," I said, leaning against her when she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "I'm okay."

  "Good. Are you hungry?"

  "Yeah, actually. What'd you make?"

  "Sandwiches." A chipper smile tugged the corners of her mouth.

  "My fave." I grinned and kissed her cheek.

  "Ack." She shoved at me and I laughed. "Chips, too. And soda. The fact that you and my child share the same favorites makes my life easy."

  Our fishing trip lasted most of the day, and by the time we made it back to shore, we had a cooler filled with fish and a huge halibut. Back at Sage's, Jake cleaned and cooked up the big fish, while Sage and I prepared salads. Macie and Mom set up the picnic table for dinner, and by the time the sun neared the horizon, we sat outside to share a meal.

  It wasn't as warm as we expected, so as daylight faded, cooler temperatures set in.

  "I'm ready for a crab night," said Jake, tearing into a hunk of cornbread.

  "Yuck, Daddy. Water spiders." Macie made a face and we laughed. Mom shook her head, smiling cheekily at her only grandbaby.

  "Aw, but they're delicious spiders." I leaned over and tickled her belly. Macie giggled her head off, kicking her feet like a maniac. I pulled her into my lap and pressed my lips to her forehead. "Are you done eating?"

  "Yeah. Most of it." She plucked an asparagus from my plate and ate it. "Are you?"

  "Well, you ate my last asparagus so I am now," I teased, hugging her against my chest. Macie didn't mind, and she settled into my embrace with an endless smile. She yawned, end-of-day tiredness pressing in on her the way it usually did.

  "How about Auntie Will does bath and bedtime tonight?" suggested Sage, her eyes on Macie.

  "Nope." Macie stuck her index finger in the air. "Auntie Will reads too fast. How about Daddy?" She pointed at him and he chuckled.

  "Why am I elected?" he asked, leaning across the table and pretending to chomp her finger.

  "You read a good speed!" She shrieked and yanked her hand back.

  "Okay, okay. You win. Dad
's night." He grinned at her.

  "Mom, why don't you come fishing with us next time?" I asked, glancing to her while resting my chin on Macie's head.

  "Maybe next time, love." She gave my shoulder a squeeze. Under the guise of her pleasant smile, a sadness lingered below. Spending time on Dad's boat was always hard for her after his death. For Sage and me, it was more about remembering him rather than mourning.

  I remembered the stories Mom told of their romantic excursions, day trips, and charters to open waters. It was their special thing. Without Dad, all of that changed for her.

  When our family party broke up for the night, I headed home for a hot shower and curling up on the sofa while attempting to pick a movie. Prior to hiring Doctor Harmon, my schedule varied and often flowed into nights and evenings with emergencies. Now, with his addition to the practice, we shared that responsibility. I hadn't realized how much of my time work ate up until I found my evenings empty, and weekends just the same.

  About halfway into a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show, pounding bangs on my front door had me choking on a sip of water. I shot up from my seat, clutching my chest as I made my way to the door. My heart raced, and I gripped the doorknob. Another round of heavy slams met the door and, with caution, I cracked it open, peeking around the chain.

  "Please, can you help?" Dax's face appeared shadowed in the night, the whites of her eyes visible with her panic.

  "Yes, hang on." I closed the door to release the chain, then pulled it open wide.

  Dax rushed to me, something cradled in her arms wrapped in a blue towel. She shoved the bundle into my arms, and I accepted it out of sheer habit, the weight of it dragging me forward. A gray and white pitbull puppy struggled for breath when I urged away the towel. His chest huffed and puffed while I checked his pulse.

  "What happened?" I asked, my energy slowing the way it always did in the face of an emergency.

  "I don't know. I found him by the road." Dax's hands shook and she paced beside me.

  "Downstairs." I rushed past her, nearly running as I burst into the clinic with her on my heels.

  I flicked on the lights, and set the puppy down on the exam table. "Okay, fella," I crooned, rubbing his chest while pulling on the stethoscope. "Come on." I listened to his shallow breathing, and more so the sound of his erratic heartbeat. My heart sank, and I knew.

  Dax stood by, her arms folded over her chest as she watched me examine the patient, as if holding her breath in the wake of it.

  A spot of blood appeared on the table by his mouth, and when I turned him, I saw the abrasions on his side. My throat squeezed at the assumption that he'd been struck, most likely by a vehicle. His body seized and I understood what we faced. I swung around to grab sedatives from the cupboard, and drew up the syringe before administering it.

  Dax looked on while I pulled the towel back over the puppy once he calmed, before meeting her gaze. She tensed, her lips pursed, and the shared silence between us was enough to communicate the outcome.

  "Be with him," I whispered, leaning down and stroking the puppy's head while his breathing began to slow. I placed my hand on his chest, and he settled under it.

  Her eyes welled up, and she lowered herself to the table, pressing her lips to the top of the dog's head.

  In a single breath, the world around us stilled.

  With a tear streaming down her cheek, Dax glanced at me before walking out of the exam room.

  I found her outside a while later, after taking proper care of the fallen pup, where she sat on the steps that led to my apartment. Her elbows rested on her knees while she held her head in her palms. I sat beside her, allowing her the time she needed.

  She didn't make a sound for a good five minutes, before she stood and made for her SUV parked haphazardly on the curb.

  "Dax. Wait." I shot up and hurried after her. "Wait."

  She climbed into the driver's seat, but I grabbed the door before she could close it. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel, and the stoic expression found its way back to her face as she stared off through the windshield into the pitch of the night.

  "Thank you for trying," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  "I'm sorry I couldn't do more…"

  "I know."

  "Come up for a little bit?" I gestured toward the stairs.

  She shook her head and turned over the engine. "I have to go."

  "Can you look at me for a second first?" I implored, still holding on to the door.

  Fingers found their way to her hair again, though a moment after, she finally looked at me. Mistiness clouded her sea green eyes, laden with sadness and pain. She held my gaze and the longer it went on, the more tears pooled. If she were anyone else, I would've pulled her into a hug.

  "I'm sorry." My voice emerged in a whisper. "For this loss, and for the one this reminded you of."

  She choked on a sob, though silenced herself after. I held my hand to her and she tensed, her body leaning away a fraction. "Don't, don't."

  "I won't, but it's there in case you wanted to." I turned my hand over, palm down and her eyes immediately fell to my bracelet. In a bold gesture, I pulled it from my wrist, and held it out to her.

  Again, her gaze flickered to mine, though this time she didn't recoil. She took the bracelet, closing it in her palm.

  I shut the door, allowing her the space she needed to take.

  When I took a few steps back, she pushed the SUV into drive, and pulled away from the curb.

  ***

  My heart broke for Dax, and for all the families who lost loved ones. Dogs were always the hardest, even for me, and cats the second. For the families, it was all losses.

  Sage and I hit Rooney's again that week, and I hoped to find Dax there. When she wasn't, Sage told me she hadn't seen her in some time. With that news, I took matters into my own hands and drove out to her farm.

  On this visit, lilac blooms lined the property all the way up the path toward the house. The fragrance brought a smile to my face and comfort to my shoulders as memories of childhood springs in Sequim returned to me.

  Dax's car remained parked in its usual spot between the house and barn. I pulled up beside it and parked. In the pasture, an older man exercised Carol. The horse appeared happier by far as Esteban ran her in circles. I leaned on the fence, looking on until he noticed me.

  "Afternoon, Doctor," he said after slowing Carol's gait.

  "Afternoon. Is the lady of the farm around?"

  "Si, yes." He nodded, pointing toward the distant part of the property. "By the lake there. Cleaning the dock."

  "Is it straight ahead?"

  "North most. Quarter mile out." He tipped his hat to me while stroking the horse.

  "Thank you, Esteban. Nice to meet you."

  "You, too." He paused, offering me a kind smile. "Your father was a good man."

  "He was." I gave Carol a pat when she moved closer to me. "Trying to be similar."

  "Well, you made this girl pretty happy," he said, running his fingers through Carol's neatly cared for mane. "Have a good one, Doc."

  "You as well."

  It took me a good five minutes to walk the stretch of property toward the lake. Neatly plowed fields surrounded me and I avoided a few horse bombs along the way. The tree line cleared eventually, and the expanse of the lake appeared. Trees surrounded the water and it curved away from the property, leading toward mountains with receding snow caps.

  On the dock, I found Dax sitting with her legs hanging over the side. I came up behind her, my boots thudding on the wood. She didn't turn around, and I wondered if she expected me or if Esteban often checked on her. When I neared her, I noted that her feet didn't touch the water and she still had boots on. Without any warning, I sat down beside her, sending my legs over the edge as well.

  Once again in her purple T-shirt, the Stetson shielding her eyes from the fading sun, she held her hands in her lap. My bracelet encircled her left wrist.

  I swung my legs so
me, and she mimicked as if we were two school girls enjoying a summer day.

  "You knew I was going to check on you," I said, though kept my focus on our boots. Both of us wore cowboy boots, though mine rose to the ankle while hers were higher.

  "I wouldn't put it past you." She glanced at me when she spoke.

  "Can I tell you something?"

  "Whatever you want."

  "I've been out here for two years and you know that conversation we had a few weeks ago about Wildrose and my Seattle life?" I asked, returning my attention to our shoes. In the stillness of the water, our reflections looked back at us.

  "Yeah. I remember." She nodded, lifting both of her feet out in front of her.

  "Well, it was the only real conversation about my life that I've had since moving. For a minute, I felt like myself again. And every moment since then, I feel emptier than I did before." The truth tumbled from my lips in a way I didn't expect. "Sorry, that came out way more dramatic than I intended."

  "I get what you're saying," she said, her voice soft.

  "It makes me want to spend more time with you." More truth, though this time I blurted it out.

  "Why? What've I got to offer you?" Her edge returned, and the glare she tossed me would've reduced me to nothing if I wasn't used to it. And her.

  "Friendship." I shrugged. "Someone to talk to."

  "I suck at talking."

  "I'm well aware."

  She laughed and her gaze cooled again, holding mine a little longer. "What if I don't want a friend?"

  "I don't care." I lifted my shoulders in a great shrug. "Because for you, Dakota Stocker, your actions say more than your words ever will."

  Her lips pursed and she narrowed her eyes at me. "My actions, huh..."

  "Yeah." I gestured to the bracelet on her wrist. "They mean something."

  "So what does this mean?"

  "What?" My brow furrowed and before I could fathom her question, a firm hand met the middle of my back. Heat flooded my cheeks, and she offered me a cheeky smile. "Dax—"

  Without so much as flinching, she shoved me right into the lake. I had no time to react before the water swallowed me while I floundered to catch my stride. When I rose to the surface, the sound of Dax's laughter assaulted me.