by Kahlen Aymes
I sucked in a deep breath as the gravity of what was in front of me settled around me. I still felt grimy from the night before and all I wanted was a hot bath and a nap. Thankfully, Gina had taken me to the Verizon store before we went to the firehouse and I was able to get my cell phone replaced, so in the event that Carter had told his family about me, they knew where he was, or did hear about the accident they could reach out.
I glanced down at the new one and Googled “Fire in Jackson” and there it was plain as day… the headline story on both of the local papers. It probably hit the local TV and radio stations, as well.
Sitting on the top step, I leaned against the railing. I felt so tired as I watched my innocent puppy frolicking in the yard and wished I could be so carefree.
“Go potty, Sweet face,” I urged, again. As if she understood every word, the puppy squatted in the grass. “Come on, honey,” I encouraged. I reached down when she bounded up the stairs and lifted her on my lap, then stood, kissing her velvety head. “I’m lucky I have you, baby. You’re going to make this bearable.”
I wondered if Ben had locked up the house after he was here the night before as I pulled on the screen door. It opened, but the one behind it was locked. After I’d managed to find the spare key under the pot, I unlocked the door and went into the house, then straight up to my room, carrying Gem with me. I walked into my room and sat her on my bed. She looked up at me with those soulful brown eyes, as if knowing I felt like hell. I reached out and scratched her head, lovingly.
Crying had made my eyes tired, and a bath might ease the soreness from my body. The air conditioner kept the house cool which was a welcome change from the afternoon heat, but it only emphasized my need for sleep. I kicked off my shoes and then crawled onto the bed, pulling the soft chenille throw over my body. Gem thought this was a fine situation and snuggled into its fluffy folds in the crook of my body as I curled on my side.
The house was filled with looming silence that seemed to boom. I had never felt so alone, and I dreaded the job of contacting Carter’s family and making his arrangements.
BEN
“Uncle Ben!”
The young exuberant voice of my nephew bounded through my phone. I had him on speaker as I drove out to the Landry ranch after my shift ended. We had a small house fire in town, and I was a couple of hours later than Marin expected me.
The gravel roads were bumpy, and dusk was beginning to fill the sky with beautiful colors as the sun started to set behind the majestic Teton mountain range. I loved the scenery and the fresh air that Wyoming offered, but Dylan’s call reminded me how much I missed my family.
“Heeeeyyyy, Sport! What are you doing?”
“We’re having a barbecue and I played baseball all day! My dad got me and Remi these cool baseball jerseys from the World Series! The real one! We’re wearing ‘em, right now! Some of my friends are at our house, too!” Dylan could barely contain his excitement.
“Cool! Sounds like a great party!” I couldn’t help being slightly jealous that Missy’s new husband, Jensen, was able to spend so much quality time with Dylan, not to mention how he could lavish all of these amazing gifts on him because he had access through his job. But most of all, I felt melancholy that I was missing Dylan’s eighth birthday.
I really liked Jensen when I’d met him a few times over the past eighteen months, though, and I felt good that Dylan finally had a real father figure. After that bastard Missy had married the first time, I couldn’t be happier about how things were turning out for them. They had moved away to Atlanta, Georgia for Missy’s new job at ESPN and though I had been sad to see them go, things seemed to be working out for the best for all of us.
Shortly after they left Billings, my best friend, Davis, moved back to Jackson Hole to help out his parents after his father’s diabetes got out of control. He was always bragging about how gorgeous the area was, so when another spot opened up on his team, with a lot of prodding from Davis, and a solid offer from his chief, I put my house on the market and followed him to Wyoming.
After Missy, Dylan, and then Davis, left Billings behind there wasn’t much to keep me there. Billings wasn’t huge, but Jackson was only a tenth of the size, the landscape more striking, and I loved the idea of a small-town.
I was still getting settled, but I really enjoyed it here, and as my mom used to say, everything happens for a reason. I wanted to buy a house, but for now, I was living in the upstairs apartment of an old man who lived a few blocks from the station. The apartment was a bit shabby, but the rent was cheap, and I helped my landlord with odd jobs. Harlan Dobbs had become sort of a pseudo granddad to me in a short time. All in all, life was good, even if I did miss the hell out of Missy and Dylan.
“Yeah! My friends all want one!”
“Me, too! Did you get one for me?” I asked happily.
Dylan laughed heartily. “It’s not your birthday, Uncle Ben! Geez!”
“It’s not? How come Remi got one, then? It’s not her birthday, either!” I teased.
“Yeah, but we always get presents on each other’s birthdays, now. Her’s is from the loser team, though.” He’d lowered his voice on the last part.
“Wow! That’s still awesome, though! How do I get a gig like that?”
Remi was Jensen’s stepdaughter. It was an unconventional situation and the two kids, while not brother and sister, were being raised together.
“I guess you gotta get a dad with connections!” Dylan laughed. My heart filled with joy at the sound of happiness that bubbled from him. His little life had started out so badly, he really deserved this.
“Come on, Dylan!” A little girl’s voice could be heard closer than the rest of the background laughs and general commotion. “Jensey said it’s time to eat, now. Hurry, cuz I want cake.”
“Is that Remi?”
“Yup! I hafta go, Uncle Ben. We’re gonna eat and then Dad and Uncle Chase are gonna airplane us!”
To me that sounded like a recipe for vomit. I’d seen what “airplane-ing” entailed the last time I visited them in Atlanta. The kids laid flat on the outstretched arms of the men who then proceeded to zoom them up, down and around like planes all the while the kids made airplane noises amid abundant squeals and giggles.
“Okay, but don’t forget to open my present, and then Facetime me tomorrow to tell me how you like it.”
“I will, Uncle Ben!”
“Don’t eat so much you puke playing that game, Dylan.”
“I won’t!”
I was driving up the lane toward the Landry house and that big barn to the left that housed the horses. I slowed my truck to a stop.
“Tell Remi and the others I said hello. I’m getting a vacation in a few weeks and I want you all to come up here and visit. We’ll go to Yellowstone!”
“Can we ride horses?” he asked excitedly. “Please, please, pleeeezzzze!”
I smiled, as I stepped from the truck and onto the gravel driveway, by boots crunching on it. Ironically, the horses whinnied loudly. There were several dude ranches in Wyoming and neighboring states, but maybe now that I knew Marin, she’d let me bring the kids out to see her horses. “I’ll see what I can do! You just start bugging your dad and Chase to bring you guys out here to see me!”
“I will! That will be so awesome!”
“Dyyyllllaaaannn!” I could hear my sister calling her son in the background. “I have your plate ready!”
“I gotta go, cuz we’re eatin’ kinda late since the game went extra innings!”
“Yeah, you go on buddy. Happy Birthday! Love you.”
Dylan lowered his voice again. “Uncle Ben, tough guys aren’t supposed to get all gushy like that. It’s not manly and stuff,” he berated me, wryly. “I’m trying my best to be cool.”
I found it adorable and laughed out loud. Someday he might not mind so much. “Okay, see ya, later. Have fun! Hit a homer for me!”
“Okay! Bye!”
I shut the phone off and threw it throu
gh the open window onto the seat of the truck, then turned toward the barn. The horses were surely hungry; it had been more than twelve hours since I’d fed them. When I walked through the open door on one end of the barn, a couple of them eyed me warily, but most of them started whinnying and moving around inside their stalls. The odor of horse manure, alfalfa and leather assaulted my nostrils. It wasn’t too unpleasant, and I liked working with my hands.
There was a huge black stallion and a few geldings on one side of the barn and then the mares were stalled on the other. One deep red one with a black mane and socks up to her knees looked uncomfortably pregnant and about ready to foal. She looked at me with soulful, dark brown eyes and I put my hand out to rub her nose and then down her neck. “Hey, how you doing momma? You’re ready to pop, aren’t you?” She neighed softly and nudged my shoulder with her nose. “Poor girl.” Taking care of the horses was new to me, but I liked it, and I hoped Marin would give me the opportunity to see the little foal when it was born.
The stalls all had sliding doors open to separate fenced pastures on either side of the barn allowing the horses to come and go as they pleased all day, access the big water trough and wander or run around. They were all back inside their stalls looking at me expectantly for their meal, some getting more rambunctious as their anxiousness increased.
I was met with a chorus of horse impatience and I smiled. “Okay! Okay! Just a minute!” I said with a smile, upping my pace a bit. At one end of the barn were two entire stalls devoted to feed storage. Several bags of oats filled one and the other was stuffed with bales of alfalfa. I started opening a couple of the bales to divide among the horses. Luckily, I was able to google how much should be fed per day or I would have been completely unprepared. Apparently, if the stringy green stuff the horses seemed to love wasn’t dry enough or if they got too much, it would cause bloat, which could be fatal.
I used both hands to pull it apart and added about ten pounds of the stringy green plant into each of the feed bins hanging on the inside of the stall walls. Those who got their food first started munching away happily while the others watched me with huge brown eyes, punctuated by a few snorts and neighs that became more pronounced.
After each of the horses received their portion of the alfalfa, I picked up a large scoop from an open bag of oats. It was ingenious; made by removing the bottom and part of one side from a gallon-sized plastic vinegar jug. I added one scoop of oats to the second feed bucket for each horse, giving the pregnant mare a little extra. After all, she was eating for two.
After I’d finished and the horses were munching happily, I made sure both of the round metal water troughs in both pastures were topped off with fresh water from the hose connected to a water pump in front of the barn.
I wanted to see Marin, hoping she might pop outside while I was working with the animals so at least I’d be able to check on her. There were bags and boxes of Kung Pao Chicken, Moo Shu Pork and eggrolls sitting on the passenger seat of my truck. It was surely cold by now, but there was more than enough for the two of us, and I did tell her I’d bring food over.
I walked back to the truck, second guessing my decision. Maybe it would seem insensitive to expect her to share dinner with me less than a mile from where her man went up in flames a day before. The air was filled with the familiar smell of a fresh burn. I glanced at the house once more, and then toward the charred remains of the mechanic’s shop before walking around the truck, yanking open the passenger door and grabbing the white bags imprinted with the Chinatown restaurant logo on them.
“Fuck it,” I mumbled to myself. I said I’d bring dinner and here it was. If she wanted to eat alone, I’d respect that. I just wanted to make sure Marin and Gem were okay and let her know that the horses were taken care of.
My boots made a hollow stomping sound on the wooden steps as I went up them, and across the porch. As I knocked on the screen door it bounced against the doorframe and I noticed the screen was coming loose from the frame. It would need repair, or she’d have a house full of mosquitos when the weather got a little warmer. No doubt the windows were equally neglected on the old farmhouse if the chipping paint on the wooden siding was anything to go by.
When Marin didn’t answer the door, I opened it and knocked more forcefully on the solid door beneath. I sighed heavily, when it went unanswered again. Realizing that she had my cell number from the night before because I told her to get it from one of the guys, but I didn’t have hers.
“Shit!” I said, frustrated. I couldn’t call her, and I didn’t want to scare her by banging harder on the door.
Maybe the door was unlocked, but how creepy would it be to go inside while she was in the house? But what choice did I have? I put out a hand to close around the doorknob, holding the bags with the other arm. I didn’t really expect it to open, but it did. I nudged it open just enough to call inside.
The inside of the house was completely silent.
“Marin? Are you here?” I called quietly, so as not to frighten her. The question was met with the small bark and whining from the puppy, but it was distant, so I assumed they were upstairs. If last night was anything to go by, the little puppy couldn’t jump down from the bed without help. “Marin?” I said it louder this time. “I’m finished with the horses! Are you home? I brought you something to eat.”
More barking was followed by her reply. “Ben?” she called from somewhere upstairs. Hearing her say my name did something to my insides, but I tried to shake it off. I was here to help her when she needed help, and nothing more. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel anything for her beyond friendship. “Yeah!” I called back.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll be there in a second!”
Her voice was soft, but I was surprised by the effect it had on me. I felt relieved to know she was okay.
“Take your time.” I stood back onto the porch to wait, watching through the glass as she came down the stairs carrying the little black dog who was panting her head off. She was still wearing the same clothes she’d worn to the station that morning, but her blonde hair was messy and still stained with soot. A definite case of bedhead after much needed sleep.
Our eyes met through the door and Marin pulled the door open. The bruises on her face were starting to turn yellowish green, and experience told me they were from a backhand or fist.
“Sorry,” she said again, indicating that I should come in.
“Bat! Bat!” Gem’s little barks made me smile. “Bat! Bat!” I was already learning the differences in the puppy’s barks. This was a happy greeting.
I reached out to ruffle her little head. “I missed you, too! Where do you want this?” I asked Marin as soon as I’d stepped inside.
“In the kitchen.” She waved to her left. “That way. On the table. Sorry for the mess.” I could see she was embarrassed by the clutter. “I should have cleaned up, but I was just so tired I fell asleep.”
She moved slowly, trying to hide a grimace, but not quite managing to keep the catch out of her voice. “Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned. Even though I told myself to play it cool, she was obviously in pain and I couldn’t ignore it. She’d fallen on her run from the fire the night before, but people didn’t move like that from scuffed up knees, or a bruised hip. Her ribs were hurting her, and I knew from experience what it felt like, and what it looked like.
“Oh, sure. Nothing that won’t heal in a week or so.”
“I think it might take longer. It looks like you hurt your ribs. Did they check them at the hospital?”
I placed the bags of food on worn wooden table that looked like it was half a century old, at least; varnish was missing from the table’s edge and from the seats of the chairs, especially one of them, where Leonard Landry had no doubt spent most of his time when he wasn’t working. It was definitely a bachelor pad, and one that was in need of repair. My heart felt sad for the little girl who grew up here, even though now she was a young woman.
“Yes. Two of them are c
racked,” she admitted. I knew every step, every time she sat down, raised her arms, and especially when she laid down and got up had to hurt like a bitch.
The hair on the back of my neck bristled. “Did you get thrown from the explosion? I thought you made it out before it blew.”
“Oh, I did. It only knocked me down.” Her response didn’t explain her cracked ribs.
I picked up Gem and petted her as Marin walked carefully to the cupboard to get plates and glasses. She winced as she raised her hand to barely shoulder level.
“Oh, hey, I got that.” I stepped behind her and took two plates out with one hand bringing my body into close proximity to hers. I felt an instant reaction of a quickened heartbeat. Quickly turning away to place them on the table, I cleared my throat, and bent to let the puppy down. “Sorry, little one. I’ll play with you later, I promise.”
Gem looked up at me with expectant brown eyes, her tail wagging furiously.
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m worse off than I thought.” She touched her hair, her eyes widening when she realized it was matted and messy on one side of her head. “Oh,” she murmured.
“You probably just need to eat and then get a bath and some rest. I can leave you to it. How did you break your ribs? From the fall?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, um… I don’t think so. I fell against the work bench in the shop just before, Carter…”
Her voice broke and her tears flooded her eyes and she dabbed at them self-consciously.
“Listen, I just wanted to make sure you were alright, and feed the horses as promised. I know it’s been a rough twenty-four hours and you probably just want to be alone.”
Marin pulled out one of the chairs and sat down carefully. “Not really,” Marin said. Shaking her head. “My brain won’t shut off. All I do is replay it over and over in my head and the silence only amplifies everything. I’d love it if you’d stay and share the meal with me. Gem seems to want you to stay, too.”
