by Cindi Myers
BY THE TIME JACK had helped deliver Zephyr into the hands of the Gunnison County paramedics and pitched in to clean up the mess, it was well past noon. He snagged an extra-large chicken burrito from the Teocali Tamale booth and took it back to his office. He ate at his desk while he reviewed the specs for the condo project, but he had trouble keeping his mind on his work. Columns of figures kept morphing into the image of a certain shapely blonde.
Maybe a walk would clear his head. He lifted Nugget’s leash from its hook by the door, and the dog bounded to him, eager for an outing. Jack thought again of Annie and her desire for a puppy. Would she tell her mother about his offer to let her visit Nugget? Would Tanya want to take him up on that offer or would she avoid him?
He set out on a popular hiking and biking trail into the foothills, pausing from time to time to let out the leash to allow Nugget to wade the creek or stick his snout down a ground squirrel hole. Jack suspected if an actual ground squirrel were to appear, Nugget would flee in terror.
He drew in a deep breath of clean mountain air and felt the tension ease from his shoulders. The fields around him were a riot of color—scarlet paintbrush, deep violet bluebells, yellow daisies and dozens of other flowers he couldn’t name. The spectacular display brought tourists from around the country to explore the trails in the area on foot or by bicycle; Jack felt privileged to get to enjoy the sight every day.
The world was full of people who were searching for a place like Crested Butte, a place with beautiful scenery, friendly people and plenty to do in any season of the year. He had never understood why Tanya had wanted to leave. Here in Crested Butte, she’d had a loving family, lots of close friends and the local version of fame. From childhood she’d been involved in the theater group and she’d starred in some of its most-loved productions.
And she’d had him, a man who’d loved her.
Obviously that hadn’t been enough. That knowledge, even more than the reality of her leaving, had cut deep. “I have the chance to be a real star,” she’d told him. “Why would you want to deprive me of that?”
He’d never meant to deprive her of anything. In fact, he would have given up the only life he knew and followed her to Hollywood and stayed with her.
But she’d never asked.
Nugget barked excitedly and tugged on the leash. An enormous white dog bounded toward them, dragging a man and woman along behind. As they drew closer, Jack recognized Bryan and Angela. “Her name’s Marshmallow,” Angela explained as Bryan reined the beast to a halt. “We just adopted her.”
“Nice dog.” Jack rubbed the fuzzy head. “How’s Zephyr?”
“He sprained his ankle, but he’s going to be fine,” Bryan said.
“Thank you for the scrims you did for the Red Lady’s Revenge,” Angela said. “They’re really beautiful.”
“No problem,” Jack said.
“Would you be interested in doing some more volunteering with the theater?” she asked. “We could use a guy with your skills.”
“I have skills,” Bryan said.
She gave him a heated smile. “Construction skills.”
“I hadn’t thought about it much,” Jack said. “I don’t know if I’d have time.”
“Think about it,” Angela said as Marshmallow yanked Bryan forward once more.
Jack continued up the trail, Angela’s suggestion reverberating in his head. Volunteering at the theater would mean spending more time with Tanya, not a wise move while his feelings for her were so unsettled. The pull of attraction between them after so many years had caught him off guard. He needed to figure out how to deal with that before he went any further.
ANNIE WASTED NO TIME telling her grandmother about the puppies at the festival. “Mama says I can’t have one, but since you’re her mother, if you say I can have one, she has to listen to you, right?” she asked with a winning smile.
Ruth Bledso arched one eyebrow and met Tanya’s gaze. “I always thought you were a brilliant child, dear, but she may have you beat.”
Tanya put a hand on her daughter’s shoulders. She’d learned early on that she had to stay on her toes to counter Annie’s reasoning. “I explained that Misty wouldn’t appreciate a younger dog invading her territory,” she said.
Ruth nodded. “Oh, no. She wouldn’t like that a bit.”
Hearing her name—and given that everyone had gathered in the kitchen—Misty trotted in to join them. A scattering of white hairs around her muzzle and eyes were the only hints of her age. Everything else about her said, “I’m just a puppy, eager for a treat.”
“Misty’s a nice dog.” Annie enveloped the golden retriever in a hug. “I don’t think she’d mind another dog at all. She’d probably appreciate someone she could talk to in her own language.” Misty swept the air with her tail and lavished doggy kisses on her young admirer.
Tanya had to admit Misty was a very easygoing dog. Her father had brought the pup home shortly after Tanya left for California. According to him, the pet had helped to fill the emptiness in her parents’ house and in their hearts, as well.
“I also reminded Annie that puppies are a lot of hard work,” Tanya said. “They need a lot of space and can be destructive to nice furniture and carpets.”
“That is true.” Ruth looked relieved.
“I’m sure glad nobody felt that way about me when I was a baby,” Annie said.
“You wouldn’t have peed on my carpet or chewed the furniture,” Ruth said.
“My puppy wouldn’t, either,” Annie protested. “I wouldn’t let it.”
“Your mother said no, so you need to listen to her,” Ruth said. “No puppy for now.”
Annie stuck her lip out in a pout, but knew better than to say anything more. “Come on, Misty. Let’s go to my room. I’ll read you a story.”
“Thanks for coming to the defense of my carpets,” Ruth said when the two women were alone.
“We’ve imposed upon you and Dad enough,” Tanya said. “I couldn’t see adding a pet into the mix.”
“You know we’re happy to help you,” Ruth said. “Especially if it means having you close to home again.”
Tanya took an apple from a bowl on the table and turned it over and over in her hand. When she was growing up, her family had picked bushels of apples from local orchards every fall and enjoyed them into the winter. Those were the kind of memories she hoped to make with Annie—memories that included a family dog. “I told Annie when the two of us have our own place we can get a pet,” she said.
“I have everyone I know keeping an eye open for a suitable rental for you,” Ruth said. “Ian put your name on a waiting list at the duplexes where he lives.” Tanya’s brother had a roommate to share costs in the complex in CB South.
“I appreciate everyone’s help,” Tanya said. “Maybe something will turn up soon.”
“It’s not because we’re anxious to get rid of you, of course, but because I know how much you want your own home.”
“After dealing with real estate prices in Los Angeles, I thought it would be easy to find an affordable place in Crested Butte,” Tanya said. When she was a child, plenty of old miners’ cottages and rustic cabins were available for less than the price of a new car today. “I knew prices had risen some, but I was astonished how much. The only places available are either renovated second homes or pricey condos.”
“Crested Butte isn’t the secret it once was,” Ruth said. “Everything is more expensive now. After he got out of the Marines, Ian searched for five months before he found his place.”
“I hate it.” Tanya set the apple aside. “Why did the people who live here let this happen?”
“It’s easy to romanticize the old days,” Ruth said. “But people forget about the lack of jobs and services back then. All the new residents and tourists have brought in a lot of money and jobs. Everybody is better off now.”
“I saw what focusing on money and progress did to people in L.A.,” Tanya said. “The people I knew there were consta
ntly changing their looks and their jobs, even their friends, always searching for something bigger and better. All that…that shallowness made me realize how much I missed the stability and security of a place like Crested Butte.”
“New people and buildings don’t mean the heart and soul of this town has changed,” Ruth said.
“It feels like it has. Hardly anything looks the same as I remember. And there are so many people here that I don’t know.” Maybe it was unrealistic to expect the town wouldn’t have changed at all, but the longer she’d lived in L.A., the more fixed her image of Crested Butte had become as the perfect place. Its transformation into the picture-postcard village tourists raved about had left her feeling lost, as if there was nothing remaining that she could truly count on.
“There are a lot of people here you do know,” her mother pointed out. “And a lot of new friends, like Angela and some of the others from the theater.”
“I know.” Tanya nodded. “I guess I’m just out of sorts today.” Seeing Jack again this morning—a smiling, kinder Jack than the one she’d tangled with at the theater—had set her emotions spinning. He was one of the good memories she’d associated with the town, but like everything else, he’d changed, too, enough that he was almost a stranger to her now.
“All your life, you’ve been so certain of how things ought to be,” her mother said. “I don’t know where your perfectionist streak comes from, and I always worried it would lead to disappointment.”
Tanya stiffened. “I’m not a perfectionist,” she said.
Ruth smiled. “I remember when you were just a little girl, about Annie’s age, and you came home from school in tears. You were crying so hard you were practically hysterical. It took me forever to figure out what was wrong.”
“What was wrong?”
“You’d drawn a picture in class and the teacher selected some student artwork to put on the bulletin board for parents’ night, and your picture wasn’t one of the ones she chose.”
Tanya remembered how hard she’d worked on her drawing, sure hers would be picked for the bulletin board. She’d even imagined herself showing the picture to her mom and dad, who would be so proud.
“I tried to tell you it didn’t matter if your picture wasn’t displayed,” Ruth said. “I put it on the refrigerator, but you were almost inconsolable.”
“I’d been looking forward to showing off for you,” Tanya said.
“You were the same way if you got a B on a test instead of an A,” Ruth continued. “Or on the rare occasions when you didn’t get a part in a play you wanted.”
Her mother made her sound so uptight and neurotic. “I wasn’t that bad,” Tanya said.
“You got better as you got older. At least better at hiding your feelings, but you were always a perfectionist.”
“I don’t think Annie has any perfectionist tendencies,” Tanya said. Though she’d been upset about not being allowed to have a puppy, Annie had given in semigraciously.
“She’s a happy child,” Ruth said, “because she knows she’s loved.”
“I knew I was loved.”
“You knew it, but I’m not sure you always believed it.” Ruth looked thoughtful. “I always had the feeling you were trying to prove yourself, even though we loved you no matter what you did. You did do one thing to perfection, though.”
“What’s that?”
Ruth smiled. “You gave us the perfect granddaughter.” She leaned over and took Tanya’s hand. “I’m so glad you came back here to live so that we could watch her grow up and be a part of both your lives again. Seeing you only a few times a year was never enough.”
“You were never not a part of my life.”
“I know, but it’s nicer now that you’re close again. I can’t explain how special it is to watch you with your daughter—to see what a good mom you are. I’m so proud of you, hon.”
Tanya blinked back the tears that burned her eyes. “You really think I’m a good mom?” she asked. She’d made so many mistakes.
“You’re the best.”
Tanya squeezed her mother’s hand. “I had a good teacher.”
“No, you did this on your own. Anyone watching can see that Annie is the most important thing in the world to you. No one can teach that kind of love.”
Annie was the most important thing in Tanya’s life; important enough that she’d erased her entire vision for her future to make a better life for her daughter here in the town where she’d enjoyed such a wonderful childhood.
But Tanya had doubts about her ability to give her daughter the childhood she’d wanted. She was a single mom with a demanding job and not even a house of her own to live in. The town wasn’t the same. Maybe Tanya had moved here looking for something that didn’t exist anymore.
Annie skipped into the kitchen, minus Misty, who had probably retreated to her bed for an afternoon nap. “If I can’t have a puppy, can I at least visit that man’s puppy?” she asked.
“What man?” Ruth asked.
“Mr. Jack,” Annie said.
Ruth looked at Tanya. “Jack who?”
“Jack Crenshaw. Annie literally ran into him at the fair. I guess he was trying to calm her down by telling her she could come visit his puppy.”
Only the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth betrayed Ruth’s keen interest in Tanya’s former flame. “Jack’s done very well for himself,” she said.
“So I hear. Building all those new condos.” The ones she couldn’t afford to move into. The ones that spoiled her view every day.
“Don’t hold that against him,” Ruth said.
Tanya shrugged.
“When can we go see Mr. Jack and his puppy?” Annie asked.
“I don’t know how to get in touch with him,” Tanya said.
“His number’s right here.” Ruth opened a drawer and took out the slim Crested Butte phone book. Tanya almost smiled. Everyone she knew in L.A. would have looked it up online.
“Um, thanks,” she mumbled as she accepted the book. It was less than an inch thick.
She found the number for Crenshaw Construction, aware of her mother and daughter watching. “He’s not likely to be in on a Saturday afternoon,” she said.
“From what I hear, he works all the time,” Ruth said. “But if he’s not there, you can leave a message.”
One ring, two rings…Tanya held her breath, trying to calm nerves that were jumpy at the prospect of talking to Jack. Which made no sense, considering they’d managed a perfectly civil conversation this morning.
On the fourth ring, a voice came on the line—not Jack’s but a woman’s. “Hello, you’ve reached Crenshaw Construction. Your call is important to us, so please leave a message…”
“Oh, uh, hello,” Tanya stammered. “I’m trying to reach Jack Crenshaw. Would you please ask him to call Tanya Bledso.” She gave her number and hung up.
“I guess that was his secretary on the answering machine,” she said.
“Probably,” her mother said. “He’s president of the company now, did you know? His father still keeps his hand in, but he turned most everything over to Jack last year and is enjoying retirement.”
“Great.” So Jack had made a big success of himself, while she might as well have a big F for failure stamped on her forehead. Not that she had to let Jack see it.
She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was still an actress, after all. She could play the part of Hollywood glamour girl even if in reality some of the shine had worn off the glitz.
Chapter Four
Jack stopped by the office again Sunday morning, intending to make one more attempt to get a jump on that bid he needed to write. He paused to check his answering machine and froze, mesmerized as Tanya’s voice filled the empty room. Her words brought back memories of all the messages they’d exchanged all those years ago from routine questions about homework assignments to whispered endearments dispatched late at night, often when they had been apart only a few minutes.
For weeks after she’d left, his heart had sped up every time he saw the red light on his answering machine blinking. He’d held his breath, hoping against hope he would hear from her, saying she’d been thinking about him, that she missed him…that she was coming home.
He hit the button to erase the message. He didn’t need to make note of her number; it was the same one he’d called so many times when they were together. She probably had a cell phone she’d brought with her from L.A., but coverage was so spotty here in the mountains that people continued to rely on landlines. One more way Crested Butte was different from the rest of the world.
He and Tanya were different, too. As much as he cherished his memories of her, she wasn’t the same woman now, any more than he was the same man. There was little reason to believe they even had anything in common.
He was man enough to let go of the past and be friendly to her and her daughter. He’d call and invite them to his office tomorrow. He wanted her to see the place, to see what he’d made of himself. She’d left behind a small-town nobody. He wasn’t a Hollywood star, but he was an important figure in this town now. He hadn’t had to leave to make a name for himself.
He picked up the phone, but instead of punching in Tanya’s number, he called a local salon. “Melanie, can you work me in for a haircut this afternoon?” he asked.
“Jack, it’s four o’clock.”
“It’s sort of an emergency.”
“An emergency haircut?”
“Please? I promise a big tip.”
“You can do better than that. I need a new railing on my back steps. Can you replace it for me?”
He consulted his memory and came up with the image of a newer set of condos on the far side of town—not one of his projects, but he was familiar with the style. “I’ve probably got something around here that would work.”
“Then be here at five and I’ll give you your haircut.” She chuckled. “So who’s the lucky girl?”
