Wild With You

by J. H. Croix

  A few minutes later, I walked inside, and Wilbur greeted me enthusiastically with a few sharp barks as he circled my legs, his chunky bottom bumping into my calves. I kicked my boots off and quickly crossed over to the kitchen to unload the bags from the store onto the counter. I knelt to greet him.

  “Hey, sweet boy,” I murmured as I stroked my hands down his sides. He licked under my chin.

  There was nothing like a dog’s love, purely unconditional. Humans were much more complicated. If only I could get through life with a dog as my family. It would be so much simpler.

  After I put everything away, I sat down on the couch to get up to speed on my email and follow up on a few feelers I’d put out for work. I tended to do my work at home on the couch because Wilbur preferred it. He liked to snuggle up beside me, and I found the background noise of the television soothing.

  Today, I left it on a cooking show. Between emails, maybe I would learn something. Although this one was a rather cutthroat competitive show.

  I squealed aloud as I scrolled through my email. I actually had a reply. I opened it with more excitement than I wished. I hated that I’d felt so comfortable in my position in my family’s business, only to literally have all of it yanked out from under me. Confidence had never been my strong suit. I was learning I’d created some sort of façade by doing the things I thought I should do. Learning it was all wrong had dented my fledgling faith in myself.

  Although my fingers itched to reply to the email instantly, I forced myself to type up a reply in a document and wait an hour or so before sending it. I didn’t want to appear too eager. It was also a pet peeve of mine that people sometimes waited forever to reply to things.

  I scratched Wilbur’s neck, and he let out a satisfied rumble as he rested his chin on my knee. I idly watched the show. A man with a buzz cut who zoomed about the kitchen confidently appeared crushed when he lost a round in the cooking show. A matronly woman who had no professional cooking experience had wowed the judges with some kind of soufflé.

  “See,” I said to Wilbur. “She’s succeeding on her own merits.”

  Wilbur blinked at me before closing his eyes. I leaned my head back against the couch with a sigh. That was the problem. I didn’t even know what my own merits were anymore.

  The only thing I felt confident about was my work. I couldn’t exactly list my father as a reference, and I didn’t want to. Fortunately, I had a few colleagues and people whose projects I had handled who were willing to serve as references and thought highly of my work.

  I stood from the couch and strode into the kitchen, returning with a small plate with cheese and crackers on it. I was a sucker for good cheese and hoped my tight budget would get me through the next few months. If I played it carefully and started to find some work, it would be more than fine.

  I’d paid for the year ahead on the internet. I figured that would force me to stay put, which I needed to do. Even if this place was brand new to me, I knew I needed to burrow in and try to find some stability.

  I sat back down on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table and taking a bite of cheese. After I finished chewing, I eyed the plate, commenting aloud, “Starving is worse than not having internet.”

  Wilbur lifted his head, wagging his little nub. “You just want the food.” I slipped him a piece of cheese, which I knew I wasn’t supposed to do, but he really liked cheese.

  While I was watching the next challenge on the cooking show, which involved something to do with a maple glaze and a dessert and all seemed more complicated than I could handle, my phone rang. I eyed it suspiciously where it sat innocuously on the coffee table. I didn’t get a lot of phone calls. Not lately. As I was reaching for it, I saw my former fiancé’s name on the banner across the screen as it continued to vibrate in my palm.

  “Asshole,” I muttered.

  Curiosity got the best of me, and I slid my thumb across the screen to answer.

  “Hi, Dirk. I’m surprised to hear from you.”

  “Hi, Maddie.”

  It grated on me that he called me Maddie, and my mind flashed to Graham’s daughter asking me if anyone called me that. The few who did were mostly people I’d known in high school and Dirk.

  “What can I do for you?” My tone was crisp and sharp.

  “I can’t find my jet ski.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t find my jet ski,” he repeated.

  “Dirk, why the hell would I know where your jet ski is?”

  “Because it was in our shared storage space. None of your stuff is there anymore.”

  I let out a groan. “Of course my stuff isn’t there. It’s not our shared storage space anymore. We had an entire email exchange about this, and you took over the rent and the paperwork. Also, since apparently you can’t remember, you lent your jet ski to that friend of yours from San Antonio. I can’t recall his name.”

  My ex was quiet for a moment, and I thought he was going to be an ass about it. He surprised me. “Ah, you’re right. I totally forgot about that.”

  “Obviously.”

  “How are you?” he asked next.

  “I’m well,” I lied. “Yourself?” I countered politely, almost annoyed at my habit of asking friendly questions.

  “I’m fine. Any updates on your father?”

  “No, Dirk. It’s not going to change. I’m not going to suddenly have money again, if that’s what you’re hoping for. How about we end on a friendly note? Call your friend, get your jet ski back, and carry on with your life.”

  “It isn’t just about your money.” Dirk sounded offended. “I can’t deal with the complications of being associated with your father’s business, and that includes you.”

  “Look,” I began. I stopped. There was no sense in engaging in this back and forth with him. “Good luck, and take care.”

  After hanging up the phone, I felt that restless anxiety and unsteadiness inside that had become far too familiar over the past year. Standing, I crossed over to the windows and looked out into the darkness. Somehow the afternoon had slipped into evening without me noticing. It was so different here from Houston. For one, it was much colder, and it wasn’t even winter yet. A half-moon was rising in the sky, its light gilding the tops of the evergreen trees in silver and casting a pearly glow on the mountain range in the distance.

  I heard the thump of Wilbur jumping off the couch and his claws clicking on the floor as he trotted over and plopped down beside my feet. My dog was incredibly loyal, and he probably sensed I felt out of sorts. My heart squeezed, and I leaned over and trailed my fingertips between his ears. He smiled up at me.

  “Wilbur, you’re my best friend. Considering no one else has stuck around, I’m glad I have you.” He blinked up at me, and my eyes stung with hot tears. I turned and crossed the living room, walking into the kitchen to fetch him a treat from a small bowl.

  I was grateful that my grandfather had actually left dishes and kitchen items here. I hadn’t even thought about that when I’d packed up my car and started the long drive from Texas to Alaska. My grandfather likely didn’t know what a blessing it was he left me this place. When he died, my father’s business was still in full swing, so he couldn’t have known I would lose my job and most of my money within a few months after his death.

  Wilbur snatched the treat from the air when I tossed it toward him. He hurried over to his dog bed in the living room just in case I might try to steal his treat from him, or something ridiculous like that.

  My phone was still in my other hand when it vibrated again. When I glanced at the screen, it said “Mother.” I’d kept it simple. I loved my mother, but we weren’t on the best terms lately. Considering that I’d already had one annoying phone call with my ex, I figured I might as well get this one over with.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Maddie,” my mother began in her crisp tone. Although she was born and raised in Texas, her Southern accent was hardly there. She had the slightest hint of a twang a
nd nothing more.

  “Hi, Mom. What can I do for you?” As soon as I spoke, it occurred to me that I usually asked her that. I’d always tried to be helpful, to be the daughter who always had something to offer my parents. Which felt weird because now I knew unless I gave them what they wanted, it didn’t matter.

  “I’m wondering how you’re doing there.”

  “I’m fine. The house is nice. Grandfather kept it updated.”

  “Of course he did. Your grandfather might have pretended he didn’t care about money, but he could only do that because he always had plenty. He liked his creature comforts.”

  I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from snapping back at her. “How are you?” I asked.

  “I suppose as well as could be expected under the circumstances. Your father has a hearing next week, and I was wondering if you had reconsidered being more helpful to him than you’ve offered thus far,” my mother said sharply.

  “Mom, I can’t. I’m not going to falsify any records. I had no idea what was going on, and obviously, I was an idiot.”

  “Maddie, you’ve lost your job and most of your savings. Don’t you want that back?’

  “No, not at the cost of this. I’d like to be able to keep my professional reputation intact. As it is, I’m not in a great position because of what Dad did. I respect that you want me to somehow fix this, but I can’t do it by lying. I just won’t. Please. I love you, and I’m sorry.”

  I hung up quickly because I knew how things tended to go with her. She would lay on the guilt thick. I hated this feeling more than anything. I hated learning that I’d been stupid. Everything that had given me confidence before turned out to be scaffolding made out of paper. Once it started to tear, everything fell.

  Now, I didn’t know how to believe in myself. A man I thought loved me didn’t, or at least not unless I could deliver what he wanted—social connections and an entry into high society in Houston. I’d let down my father and my mother for refusing to manipulate the finances. Not that I knew how to fix it because I didn’t even know what my father had done beyond the broad strokes. Apparently, I’d been running risk assessments on numbers that were falsified to begin with. The whole thing felt like a bad dream. Being so far away from it all made it seem even more like a dream. It was distant now.

  I needed to make my own way without relying on my family. I felt like such a fraud, inside and out. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tossed my phone on the coffee table. I might as well take a bath in that nice tub. Baths were free because the water came from a well. Yay for me! Of all the things I thought I’d ponder in life, my water and power sources hadn’t been on the list.

  A short while later, I looked at my feet where they rested on the curved edge of the bathtub. My toenails were painted a deep shade of purple. I’d wanted something to cheer me up, and I had plenty of nail polish. I laughed dryly with a touch of bitterness. For a woman who worried a lot about how she looked, I now lived somewhere where it didn’t seem to matter all that much. The joke was definitely on me.

  I rolled my head to the side and looked out the window from the tub. I could see lights glittering in the distance through the trees. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Graham and his daughter lived. The moment I thought of him, I remembered our kiss. My skin was already flushed, but it felt like flames danced over the surface.

  Chapter Seven

  Graham

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Toss me that chainsaw.”

  “I’ll hand you the chainsaw,” I said dryly as I glanced over at Russell.

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I didn’t figure you’d be throwing the chainsaw.”

  I hefted the lightweight chainsaw and handed it over to him. We were working on clearing an empty lot and creating a giant pile of debris to burn. Planning ahead to manage fire-risk wilderness was part of being a hotshot firefighter. It was good for training and smart planning. Alaska was on the other side of decades of spruce bark beetle kill, which had wiped out swaths of the forests. We routinely cleared and had planned burns in areas to prevent fires from getting out of control.

  We were still hiring for this crew and were up to ten so far. Today, I was out with Russell Dane. I’d known Russell for years. Like me, he’d grown up in Willow Brook. Unlike me, he hadn’t stuck around after high school. But then, he hadn’t been tied down with raising a daughter on his own. Not that I was complaining. I wouldn’t trade having Allie for a footloose life for anything. I loved her so much it hurt sometimes.

  Russell winked as he took the chainsaw and strode away, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to take care of this tree over here.”

  I eyed the tree in question, a spindly and completely dead spruce tree. “Looks good. It’s clear all around so you can just let it fall.”

  Leaning over, I fetched a water bottle off the ground and drained it as I watched him make quick work of the tree. It fell with a thump. I tossed the empty water bottle by my backpack and snagged a small ax and handsaw.

  I set to work cutting off the small limbs on the fallen tree while he started the chainsaw again and cut up the lower portion of the trunk. We worked efficiently together. Once it was done, I asked, “You glad to be back in Willow Brook?”

  “It’s been almost a year.”

  I chuckled. “I know, but sometimes people come and go. You seem to be sticking around.”

  Russell nodded, and when my eyes slid sideways to his, I saw a flicker of something there. He’d had a rough patch after his father died in a firefighting accident the very first month he’d returned to town.

  “It’s good to be home. It’s kind of funny how much it’s the same while also being different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He set the chainsaw on the ground and took his leather gloves off, swatting them on his battered work pants. “There are lots of the same people around, and it feels like home. But the town’s getting a little bigger. We’ve got that new pizza place and that art gallery.”

  “Things stay the same and different everywhere in some ways, I suppose,” I replied.

  He eyed me for a long moment. “You ever wish you’d moved away?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. It would have been nearly impossible to raise Allie without having my family nearby. I love it here too.”

  Russell nodded slowly. “You ever see Alison?” he asked, referring to Allie’s mother.

  I rolled my eyes. “Not much. Once in a while, she blows through town.”

  “Does she even know Allie?”

  “Of course she does. I have full custody, though. I let her visit when she wants, but it’s hard on Allie because it’s never consistent. She’ll sometimes go more than a year without seeing her.”

  He shook his head slowly. “That’s bullshit, man.”

  I’d long ago come to terms with the situation with Allie’s mother. I didn’t want things to be different for me, but I wished they were for Allie.

  “I shoulda known better. I thought she was hot, just didn’t know how easy it was to get someone pregnant. My only excuse is we were young and stupid.”

  Russell’s brows hitched up.

  I shrugged. “It’s pretty fucking easy when you’re not using birth control.”

  He cocked his head to the side with a wry grin before his gaze sobered. “I gotta say, I never thought Alison was any deeper than a shallow puddle, but I didn’t tag her as the type who would bolt right after she had the baby. I’ve got nothing but respect for you, man. Allie’s one lucky kid to have you for a father.”

  “Having Allie turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. She’s an amazing kid.”

  “I can’t even imagine having a kid, and you’ve got a fourteen-year-old daughter,” he replied, his tone wondering.

  I chuckled. “The years just keep on rolling along. I’m worried the next few are going to be the hardest. I thought it couldn’t be harder than when she was a baby. But babies don’t talk ba
ck and throw serious attitude, and you don’t have to worry about guys.”

  Russell threw his head back with a laugh. “Good luck with that, man.”

  At that moment, Rowan Cole approached. He was a new hire and new to Willow Brook. He wasn’t new to firefighting, though, and seemed like a solid guy so far. “What’s so funny? Also, we got any water?”

  “There’re a few bottles over there.” I thumbed over my shoulder to the small cluster of backpacks.

  He crossed over as Russell replied, “Just laughing about Graham dealing with a teenage daughter.”

  “Good luck with that,” Rowan said as he returned to us, water in hand. “I’ve got a teenage sister, and that’s freaking stressful. The worry is endless, and I’m not even her dad.”

  I sighed. “Allie’s a good kid. I’m just hoping she’ll stay that way.”

  “Keep that shotgun close,” Russell offered.

  I cast him a glare. “I do, although she knows how to use it too.”

  Late that afternoon, I pulled up at my house and pocketed my keys, hoping Allie didn’t have too much homework tonight. Lately, she’d been struggling with math and asking me for help. I’d freaking hated math in high school, but I was still trying. When I entered the house, it was quieter than usual. I peered in the kitchen, and there was no sign of her. She usually did her homework at the kitchen table.

  I toed off my shoes and called out, “Hey, Allie-cat.”

  Walking down the hallway, I heard her respond, “Hey.” Her voice was muffled through the door.

  I showered when I got home from work because I was usually filthy, so I hustled into the bathroom. A few minutes later, I was walking back out and noticed her door was still closed, which wasn’t the norm. When I came home, she usually came out of her room if she wasn’t already. I knocked lightly on her door.

  “Need any help with your homework?”

  “No.” Her voice sounded sniffly.

  “Can I come in?” Just the possibility of my daughter crying had my heart twisting sharply in my chest.