by Elle Casey
I shrug, like I’m not picking up her hint. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me.” Because I’m super cool and you have no idea what I’m up to, Andie, so don’t even try it!
“Well, let’s see … he’s not seeing anyone as far as I know. I really don’t know a whole lot about his current social life other than he goes out to the local bar a lot and drinks more than anyone would like. He never brings girls back here but he also doesn’t always come home every night, so you can do the math on that one.”
“Interesting. Anyone you know that he’s been with?”
“Not really. Just his ex-fiancée, Ginny. And I don’t think he’s been with her since the break-up.”
“Ex-fiancée? I remember you saying something about her before. How’d she become an ex again?”
Andie leans over her cup a little. If I’m not mistaken, she looks a little guilty. “When Mack went to Las Vegas, the night I met him, he was there to celebrate Ian’s engagement. It was his bachelor party.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that. You ruined the party for everyone.”
“Hey!” She throws a plastic napkin ring at me.
I duck and stick my tongue out at her. “Missed me.”
She glares at me for a second but then continues. “Anyway, when he got back, rumors were flying about the whole thing being a bust because one of the guys disappeared all night with some girl, and Ginny thought it was Ian, so she did something stupid and Ian found out about it and that was the end of that.”
“Whoa. Back up. What did Ginny do, exactly?”
Andie looks around, checking to see if anyone’s listening. Lowering her voice, she answers. “She made a move on Mack.”
“Whaaaat?” I look around too and lean in closer. “She made a move on your man? Ian’s brother? What kind of skanky ho makes a move on a guy’s brother?”
“The kind that’s named Ginny, I guess. I’ve only seen her around town a couple times. I don’t know her at all.” Andie leans back in her chair. “They were together for a really long time.”
“Hmmm … so Ian’s probably really bitter on women, huh?”
“Not too bitter, since I guess he’s sleeping with some. But he’s bitter on love, I can tell you that.”
And since I’m not interested in love, that doesn’t bother me one bit. “So it’s been, like, years now, right? Since the break-up, I mean?”
“Yes.”
“So why’s he still being a prick?”
Andie sighs as she stares into her cup. “An excellent question. Do you want my version of why?”
“Of course.”
“I think he wants to be in a city somewhere.”
I snort. “No way.”
“Yes way.” Andie looks up again. “He’s an architect. I guess he was headed to Portland to start a new job when the whole marriage thing fell apart. He stayed here for whatever reason, but he’s not happy about it.”
“Why doesn’t he just leave if he’s not happy?”
“You’ll have to ask him that. I don’t dare rock that boat.”
“What do you mean?”
Andie gets up with difficulty and waddles over to the sink to wash her mug out. “He’s very touchy about anything having to do with that stuff, and to keep things copacetic between him and Mack, I stay out of it.”
“Wow. That’s very adult of you.” And so not like how I would handle it. I’d be all up in their business if I lived here.
She turns around and grins over her shoulder. “I’ve learned a few things since I moved out here.”
“I think your mother-in-law is rubbing off on you.” I pause before clarifying. “I mean that as a compliment, by the way.”
“And that’s how I’m taking it too.” Andie comes over and sits back down with a grunt. “She’s my adopted mom. I love her to pieces.”
“What’s up with your real mom? You haven’t said much about her.” I finish off my tea as I wait for her answer. Andie’s mom is kind of an asshole, but she came to the wedding, so I have to assume the asshole is trying. I haven’t asked Andie about her much over the past year because I’ve wanted to avoid unhappy issues.
Andie shrugs. “She’s in Seattle. I don’t see her much. We talk maybe once a month. It’s the best I can do with her right now.”
“That’s better than nothing, I guess.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Do you have to work today?” I tap my fingers on the table, searching for something to talk about when this conversation is done. This place is way too quiet for comfort.
“Nope. I cleared the decks for the birth. I’m pretty much just checking messages a couple times a day, but otherwise, I’m free. Are you bored yet?”
“Who me? No, don’t be silly. This place is beyond stimulating.”
She laughs. “Come on.” Standing is a struggle, but she manages. “Let’s go into town.”
I get up and walk with her to the front entrance. “What’s in town?”
“Civilization,” she says with a smile. Then she points to the boots she tried to get me to wear and suddenly goes serious. “Put those on and don’t give me any crap about it, either.”
I stare at the hateful things and whine. “But they’re soooo ugly!”
“Tough. We can buy you new boots at the store.”
That cheers me considerably. “Okay. You’ve sold me.” Leaving my cowgirl awesome boots by the door, I slide my feet into the surprisingly comfortable but still way-too-fugly clodhoppers Andie provided.
As soon as I step out onto the icy snow, I can appreciate that old adage that looks aren’t everything. “Oooo, squishyyy,” I say, smiling when the sound of the crunching snow does not also mean I’m on my ass staring at the sky for a change. These puppies are eating up the ground. I feel like a man on the moon, bouncing up almost in slow-mo with every step.
Andie talks while she waddles to the car. Her feet crunch the snow with every short stride. “Trust me, I learned pretty quick around here to adjust my mindset about a few things, footwear being one of them.”
I scoff. “Maybe in winter, but not summer.”
“Wrong. Summer too. There are snakes out here, so sandals around the ranch are a bad idea.”
Snakes? I run to catch up to her and stop only when I’m attached to her side. “Snakes?” I look over my shoulder to make sure none of them are trying to sneak up on me.
Andie tries to slap me away, but I’m not dissuaded from self-preservation that easily. I cling harder.
“Not in the winter, goof. They hibernate in the winter or go dormant or something.” She finally succeeds in pushing me off when we reach the driveway area.
“Or try to find somewhere warm to curl up,” I squeak, jumping up onto the running board of the truck she’s pointing her key ring at. Its lights flicker and the horn beeps once as the locks open.
“Just relax. You don’t need to worry about snakes right now. Mountain lions, yes. Snakes, no.”
My jaw drops open as I watch her walk around the front of the truck. My voice comes out high and squeaky. “You can’t be serious! Mountain Lions? Really?”
“Hurry up and get in,” she says as she opens her door. “There’s a lion over there behind those rocks, and I don’t want him to eat my best friend.”
My heart convulses in my chest and I squeal involuntarily as I try to get the door open, while at the same time trying not to knock myself off the truck’s running board.
“Lion! Lion!” I whisper loudly, without even realizing I’m doing it until the words are out. I fail miserably in my attempts to get in the car, and land in the snow on my knees. There’s not enough time for any of it to melt and get me wet though, because I can move surprisingly fast when the idea of being eaten alive is motivating me.
Slamming the door behind me, I can finally breathe again, although I sound like a frigging freight train. “Wow. That was close.” I swallow once to try and calm myself. It feels like my heart is in my throat. “Should we call the cops or the animal c
ontrol people or something?”
Andie is trying to pull herself up into the truck, but she can’t because she’s laughing too hard. For a second I feel guilty that I didn’t help her pregnant butt in first, what with the lion and everything, but then I get suspicious. She’s not acting like she’s running for her life. Shouldn’t adrenaline be giving her the umph she needs to get more than a half-inch off the ground?
“Were you just messing with me?” I look out the back window, trying to see that mound she was talking about. There’s nothing there but some patches of snow. “There aren’t lions here, are there?”
If I had a snowball, I’d throw it right in her face. I don’t care if she’s pregnant. I’m pretty sure I just lost a year off my life or a month at least with that scare.
She’s inside and buckled before she answers, her cheeks bright red with happiness as she lets out a long sigh. “No, I swear, there really are mountain lions here. And coyotes and bears and wolves and all kinds of other scary shit. But there wasn’t one back there. I was just kidding about that one.”
I point my finger in her face. “That pregnancy excuse will only take you so far. I can still smack you. Just remember that.”
She swats my hand away and starts the truck. “Just keep your eyes open when you’re outside, that’s all I ask. I’m sure you’ll never see one, but just in case...”
I picture myself coming upon a lion wandering around the ranch and make my decision. “Do they sell guns here?”
She snorts. “Is the Pope Catholic?”
“How about winter running shoes?”
“No. You’re getting boots.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms, trying to picture how I’m going to arm myself for outdoor Ian stalking activities while also protecting myself from these man-eating beasts. A gun is probably a good idea. Plus some sort of shoe I can sprint over the snow in.
“What are you scheming up over there?” Andie asks, shooting me glances as we bounce over the rough road that leads to the highway.
“Nothing. No scheming. Just thinking about buying a gun.”
She laughs. “You’re not buying a gun. Don’t be ridiculous.”
I say nothing because she’s not the boss of me and I am too going to buy a gun. A girl’s got to protect herself, right?
Chapter Five
WHAT ARE THE CHANCES THAT driving into town, I’ll spy a gun store and be able to pull off a sneaky trip inside without Andie knowing?
Very good. Very, very good, in fact, because apparently pregnant ladies need to pee a lot and they like to shop for baby clothes, and in Oregon, baby clothing shops are sometimes located right down the street from gun stores. She totally bought my lies when I said I wanted to browse around the nearby wig shop while she was in the supermarket using their potty. We agreed to meet in the kid clothing place just down the street after.
I walk into the gun store and stop just inside, staring at all the firearms on display. There are what I assume to be hunting rifles all over the walls and a glass case near the register with handguns in it. A few aisles have other hunting type paraphernalia in them.
I walk over and stare down into the glass case. No one is here that I can see, but voices float over to me from down an aisle near the back of the store. The conversation filters through, and I listen in shamelessly.
“I’ve got a thirty ought six already. What I’d really like to try is the Mathews Creed short bow. Got any of those?”
“Yeah, I got one. The 2014, if you want to give it a shot. No pun intended.” The man giggles and I’m reminded of Dukes of Hazzard re-runs I watch when I’m in need of a quick redneck sizzle. I do love me some Bo and Luke in those tight jeans of theirs.
Is that Roscoe back there? I stand on tiptoes to try and see over the junk, but it’s too far back and too dimly lit to make anyone out.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Footsteps have me turning back to the glass case. I don’t want them catching me listening in on their conversation, so I frown at the hunting knives under the glass instead.
“I got it in the back. Just give me a sec and I’ll open up the range for ya.”
They’re almost to me when I hear the customer’s voice more clearly. My blood pressure spikes.
“What are you doing here, City? You following me?”
I turn around and act surprised. “What? Oh, hello, Ian. Fancy meeting you here.”
“This is getting a little creepy, don’t you think?” he asks. “You stalking me now?”
“Please. Get a life.” I roll my eyes, playing off the fact that my neck is blotching up as he speaks.
The man who was helping Ian glances at me as he walks by. His belly is very round and well insulated under a thick flannel shirt. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling with all the charm I have in my body, “you can. I’d like to buy a gun.”
He smiles back, fully facing me now, a little dazed-looking. “Well, aren’t you as cute as a bug’s ear.”
“Henry, you feeling okay?” Ian asks.
Henry’s smile disappears in a flash. “Hush up now, Ian, I’m having a conversation with the little lady here.”
I smile again, completely ignoring Ian. “Aren’t you sweet? Henry is it?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m Henry. Henry Dawkins at your service. Did you have a particular gun in mind?” He moves behind the counter.
“Hey! I was here first!” Ian protests. “What about that bow?”
Ian is behind me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of turning around. I resist the urge to elbow him in the gut.
Henry frowns at him. “Just keep your pants on, Ian. Ladies first.”
I look over my shoulder now that my triumph is complete. “Yeah, Ian. Ladies first.”
His lips thin and then his gaze drops to my feet. “Nice boots.”
I put my hands on my waist and stick out a hip, twisting left and right a little to show off my footwear. “You like? I call this country chic.”
Henry leans over to see what I have and looks hopeful. “You like Sorel boots, ma’am? Cuz I got a new shipment in of all the latest styles, prettier than the ones you got on now.”
“Aw, come on, Henry, don’t show her your boots! I’ll be here all day waiting!”
“So wait,” he says, coming around the corner to lead me over to another part of the store.
I follow along with a huge grin, knowing this is making Ian nuts. I’m going to buy some boots just to tick him off.
“See, right here,” Henry says, stopping in front of a small display that looks like an afterthought in the corner of the store. “I got purple if you like colors or you could just go with a more leather look.”
I check out his selection, surprised to see it doesn’t suck. I was going to buy a pair just to piss Ian off, but now I’m going to buy a pair because they’re going to look fabulous with my new jeans. “Do you have these in an eight?” I ask, holding up a pair with the cutest fur rim on the top. These babies’ll go all the way up to my knees, ensuring my legs will never be wet again in this godforsaken place.
“I sure do. Just have a seat right there and I’ll get ‘em for ya so you can try ‘em on.”
I sit down on a little wood stool and take one of Andie’s fugly boots off. Ian walks around the corner as I’m pulling up my sock.
“You know, I have things to do here.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’m not stopping you.” I turn my attention to my cuticles. I can’t look at him. He’s too cute when he’s all fired up, and I need to stay strong.
“Yes, you are. You got Henry all worked up and now he’s never going to get my bow while you’re in here.”
“What do you need a bow for anyway?” I ask, looking up at him. “Going to run around town playing Robin Hood?”
“No, for your information, I’m going to shoot with it.”
“Shoot what?” I start to frown as I realize what we’re talking about. He’d better not
say animals.
“What do you think, city girl?”
“Targets?” I know it’s not the right answer the minute it comes out of my mouth. That makes me sad.
“Wrong again.” He walks away and leaves me there.
I stand up and follow him, my one booted foot clomping, the other two inches shorter without the clodhopper on. “Shooting animals is murder.”
“Not around here it’s not,” he says, still walking. “Here it’s called feeding the family.”
“You have a whole ranch full of beef. You don’t need to shoot anything.”
“I like to shoot things.”
I stop following him at that. His sexiness just went right out the window for me. Instead of continuing the conversation, I return to my seat and wait for Henry.
Ian’s back in less than a minute. “What’s the matter? All upset now because some fuzzy animals are going to die?”
“Go away, Ian. You’re not funny.” Supremely disappointed, I refuse to look at him. Instead, I busy myself with the laces of my other fugly boot.
“It’s a fact of life out here, City, better get used to it. People have to eat.”
He makes me so mad, it’s impossible to keep ignoring him. “I don’t have to get used to killing animals, Ian. You can eat what you find in the grocery store.”
He laughs. “Do you even listen to yourself when you talk? Where do you think that meat comes from?”
“Not from the wild!” I say a lot louder than I probably should have.
He actually has the nerve to keep laughing. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. Because animals raised on farms and ranches are somehow different.”
I open my mouth to agree, but then stop. He’s twisting around what I mean to say and making it sound stupid. “I’m not going to play this game with you anymore, Ian. I’m done. Go away.”
“What’re you talking about? What game?” He’s not laughing anymore.
I sigh heavily before looking at him, blinking a few times. “Listen… I get that we had some chemistry before and I thought running around with you while I was here might be fun, but you can just cancel that plan because I don’t find murderers attractive in the least. You can be on your way now.” I wave him off with my fingers. “Go on. Scat. Go shoot a bunny or Bambi or something. I’ve got nothing left to say to you.”
