Rocky Mountain Shelter

by Vivian Arend

  Time. He had to give her time.

  Trevor gathered the beans that had fallen to the ground when she’d bolted and slowly finished the row she’d begun. He mounded the soil over the line, patting it down firmly before taking three trips to and from the rain barrel to water them.

  Then he tucked the rest of the seeds away into the basket, returning it to where she’d stored it by the door.

  Inspiration struck, and he jogged to his truck, digging into the storage box behind the cab and coming up with a giant hand bell they used when moving cattle. They’d trained the herd so that like Pavlovian dogs, the cows knew when that sucker rang there was fresh feed being dropped nearby.

  It was loud enough to be heard clear across the distance between their homes.

  He left it on the back stairs where she’d be sure to see it, along with a note. He made sure to make no mention of her running away. He didn’t think apologizing was the thing to do right now, even though he felt like a shit.

  Putting control back in her court was the only thing he could think to do.

  Hey, Rodeo

  Didn’t realize until now that you probably have no phone. Stupid brain didn’t register how isolated you might feel. If you have an emergency, give this a shake. It’s loud enough I’ll hear it at my place, or Steve and Melody will. Heck, you could probably wake people in Drayton Valley if you’re at an upstairs window and really give it a go.

  And if you ever need it, go ahead and take my truck—yeah, I do like to offer to give that baby away. I know, I’m bad, but I mean well.

  My door is always open.

  Trevor

  Chapter Eight

  It was too early to go home, and too late for him to spend more time working, so Trevor turned the truck around and headed into town. He had some thought of hitting Traders Pub and finding a game of darts along with a beer, but a block before Main Street he spotted Rafe’s truck outside the library.

  His cousin had acted suspicious over nothing a few days ago, and it looked as if Trevor might be able to find out why.

  He parked in the space next to Rafe, edging up tight to block the driver door just to be an ass, because that’s what cousins did—they went out of their way to annoy the hell out of each other.

  Inside the library doors the scent of books hit him hard, and he paused near the checkout desk to look around and let the wave of memories subside.

  The Moonshine clan got teased about being bookworms. His mom had hauled them down once a week from the time they were babies until they hit high school to take part in whatever program was being offered that month. Lee and Anna had eaten it up like candy. His dad had shuffled along, heading straight for the magazines, while Kate would vanish into a quiet reading area, and woe to anyone who disturbed her when she had a book in her hands.

  Steve admitted once that he didn’t mind going because it meant they weren’t out doing chores, and Trevor mostly agreed with him.

  He and books had a love/hate relationship. He loved stories and storytelling, but had hated language in school. Hated being called up and pointed out as the slowest one in the class when it came to getting words down on the page.

  Or reading out loud—God, the thought made his skin crawl.

  But the library was magic. It had high-speed Internet and graphic novels, and the best part? During high school he discovered some of his female classmates went there after school to spend time and do their homework before their parents got home from work.

  Trevor might be slow, but he wasn’t stupid. Pretty girls he could walk home? He got more kisses and action in high school because of the library than any other dating venture since.

  Now with the thought of Becky fresh on his mind he wasn’t looking for a pickup, but maybe…a pick-me-up for her.

  “Can I help you?”

  He twisted to discover a vaguely familiar face peering expectantly from behind the counter. The pretty blonde had her hair braided back neatly, collar fastened demurely high and the faintest wash of pale pink colour on her lips.

  He glanced at her nametag. One of the Baptist pastor’s kids—that’s why she seemed familiar. “Laurel Sitko. You’re not old enough to be working here.”

  She flashed a smile. “Finished my two years of Librarian Technician training, and I’m home to do my practicum.”

  “Cool. Technician, huh? Sounds fancy,” he teased. “Does that mean you can find me a copy of Winnie the Pooh?”

  “Going for the classics, are you?” She lifted the center of the wooden counter and slipped out. “Disney version or the originals?”

  “Like you said, go for the classics.”

  She nodded. “Follow me to Christopher Robin’s.”

  He let her lead the way, peeking down the side paths for a glimpse of Rafe. Nothing, not before they reached the kids section.

  Laurel happily passed over a set of books with black and white illustrations. “Is this what you were looking for?”

  He flipped a few pages, nostalgia striking again. “Perfect.”

  She grabbed a few out-of-place books from the top of the nearest bookcase and waved goodbye before wandering away, slipping the books back onto their shelves. Trevor tucked the box set under his arm and decided he might as well copy his father’s example and hit the magazines. It was cheaper than buying a bunch of them every month.

  Rafe sat in one of the easy chairs grouped together in a quiet corner section of the library. He seemed so intent on his magazine he didn’t notice as Trevor paced up silently, grabbed a random mag off the shelf then dropped into the chair behind him.

  Trevor lifted his own reading material so he could peek from behind it to spot whatever had Rafe so mesmerized.

  There was a story time for tots going on in the opposite corner, little bodies in pyjamas squirming like worms while the senior librarian attempted to keep their attention.

  A shudder shook him. Rugrats. Nope, he could tolerate them when they were family, but random, underaged vermin were definitely not his thing.

  He checked out the young moms in the group, though, wondering if Rafe was sweet on one of them. That notion was blown away in less than a minute as Laurel strolled into view, drifting toward the playgroup, and Rafe did that thing where he stiffened up like he was a pointer on guard, his nose tracking the pretty, young librarian perfectly.

  Trevor was proud he held back his amusement and avoided laughing out loud like a ninny. Instead, he rose and stepped over to Rafe’s chair, plucked the magazine from his cousin’s hands and plopped himself down on the armrest like he’d just arrived.

  “Yo, cuz,” he muttered softly. “Happening night at the library. You’re going to get a rep for being a badass if you keep this up.”

  “Shut up,” Rafe snapped a little too loud.

  “Shhhhhhh.” A field of faces turned toward them. Frowny faces with pointer fingers pressed in warning to their lips.

  Trevor was going to die, he really was. “See. Shit disturber,” he whispered.

  “Go away,” Rafe forced out through clenched teeth.

  Trevor leaned over. “Do that again. How did you get words out while making that face?”

  His cousin jabbed his thumb toward Trevor’s thigh hard enough to leave a bruise, but he’d seen it coming and leapt to his feet in time to get only a passing hit.

  “Actually, there’re some new interesting items I’d like to check out more closely,” Trevor taunted.

  Rafe had stood as well, following Trevor’s deliberate gaze before snapping his head back and all but growling out a response. “She’s too young for you.”

  He was mean to tease, but he did it anyway. “You’re not seriously considering trying to get a date with sweet Laurel, are you?”

  “Shut. Up,” Rafe snapped. “Not here.”

  “Shhhhhhhhh.” The warning sounded again.

  Trevor bit the inside of his cheek to control himself.

  Rafe offered a final tormented glance toward Laurel who was moving rapidly in the
ir direction. “Don’t you dare say a word,” his cousin all but begged.

  “Me? Never.”

  Rafe tossed him a dirtier glance than the last one. “I swear I will take you apart and put you back together inside out.”

  A soft cough sounded beside them.

  Laurel stood a few feet away, hands held together in front of her primly as she made deliberate eye contact with them in turn, her cheeks flushing noticeably before she jerked her gaze away from Rafe. “Would you guys take your conversation outside, please?”

  Trevor turned on her with a wide smile, sweeping his books forward. “No problem. Can you help me check these out, first?”

  She took them and his card and all but ran back to the counter ahead of them.

  Rafe leaned in as they walked. “You’re a bastard.”

  “Yup.” He slapped a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good.”

  He was. He didn’t say a word to Laurel about Rafe even through he was tempted. “What does somebody new to town need to get a library card? I can’t remember what I used.”

  Laurel seemed relieved he’d asked a question she knew how to answer. “If they have a utility bill to show they’re local, they can get a card for no charge.”

  “That’s it?”

  She nodded. “For now. It might change in the future, but that’s all.”

  “Great. And thanks for the books.” He gave her a wink and stepped outside with a happier heart than when he’d arrived.

  He burst out laughing as he discovered Rafe leaning on his tailgate with a pissed-off expression.

  “Forgot about that,” he said when he could speak.

  “You’re such a bastard.” But Rafe was grinning too. “And before you say anything else, yes, I was there to check out Laurel, but don’t bother teasing. Me and her is an impossible idea. Doesn’t make her any less sweet to look at knowing she’s forbidden fruit.”

  Oh, well, that changed things. It was one thing to torment Rafe, and another totally to have anyone outside the family give him grief. “Who says she’s forbidden fruit? If you like her, ask her out.”

  Rafe made a rude noise. “Right. You’re not thinking very hard, Trevor. We don’t travel in the same circles.”

  Fuck this. He straightened up and gave Rafe a focused stare, pointing a finger in his face. “We live in Rocky, cuz. There is no Royal Palace or shit, not in this neck of the woods. There’re people who are good, and a few who are assholes, and you’re kind of in the middle of those two rankings, so if you’re interested, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough to ask her out, especially not yourself.”

  Rafe gave in, or at least gave up for the moment. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Now can you get your fat-ass truck out of my way?”

  Trevor shrugged. “Keys were in the ignition. I figured you’d move it to the back lot and hide it or something to get even with me.”

  “Dickwad,” Rafe shouted in farewell as Trevor crawled into the cab and started it up.

  He drove toward home feeling a lot more lighthearted than earlier. He was still worried about Becky, but when he stopped in her yard, library books in hand, there was a hint of the pep talk he’d given Rafe still ringing in his veins.

  Becky and him—it could work. He’d have to go slow and not be scary.

  Books weren’t scary.

  He checked around the back of the house and found the bell and his note where gone, which made him happy. And it made him even happier when he went to knock on the door and found it opening before him.

  Her whiskey brown eyes were wide, but her back was straight and she seemed determined to face him. Like he was a too-tall ladder or something else she was strong enough to tackle.

  “Hey, Rodeo. You got a minute? I brought you a present.”

  She figured he’d show up. Knowing what she did of the man, it made total sense for her to open her door and find him standing on the doorstep.

  Slightly embarrassed by her rapid disappearing trick, she shuffled from side to side. “Sorry about earlier.”

  He waved it away. “You did nothing to apologize for. I was the one being a jackass, and I’m sorry. You’ve got an awful lot on your plate right now, and it’s not my place to make your life more difficult.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, and it wasn’t nearly as awkward as it should have been. “You want some ice tea?”

  He hesitated. “Only if I’m not in your way. I mean it, I need a minute then I can get out of your hair.”

  “I’d like you to stay,” she admitted.

  Trevor tilted his head toward the patio area. “Wait for you there.”

  Becky hurried inside to get them two glasses of ice-cold tea. She returned, setting the drinks on the small table she’d found while burning off steam after he left.

  “That’s new.”

  She nodded. “I may as well use the things I find.”

  “I found something else for you tonight. It’s only a loaner, but I hope you enjoy it.”

  He handed over some hard-covered children’s books, and another bit of tension escaped. “Winnie the Pooh. That’s how they spell it.”

  “Right? Instant way to make a roomful of kids giggle.”

  “These are from the library? Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a long sip of his drink, sighing contentedly as he put the glass back on the table. “It sounded like you hadn’t read them, and I’ll admit it’s been years since I did. I thought you might like to check them out.”

  There was a whole lot she hadn’t read. A whole lot she didn’t know. That’s what she’d been obsessing over after making a fool of herself and running away earlier in the evening.

  Her attraction to Trevor shouldn’t even be on her mind yet. All the other things were what she needed to focus on. “I have a favour to ask.”

  The words burst out, kind of like his invitation earlier in the evening.

  Trevor looked suitably serious. “Go on.”

  She wasn’t sure where to begin. “I had to use a computer today at work, and I’ve never used one before. I’m worried that there’s going to be things that I don’t know that will make me lose my job, and I know—”

  “Hope would never fire you for not knowing how to do something before she’s trained you.” He looked at her intently. “Back up. You’ve never used a computer before? How is that possible?”

  “Trust me, it’s possible.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you everything, but I need help. I need to learn some of the things that you probably learned when you were a kid.”

  He was nodding slowly. “I’m not that good on computers, but I know a little. Just the basic stuff that most people know, if that’s enough.”

  “It’s not only computers,” she explained. “It’s things like the library, and what books you read in school, and how to drive a car.”

  “A car—wait, you knew how to drive the tractor.”

  “A tractor and a car are not the same thing, Trevor.”

  He was nodding in agreement before she’d finished speaking. “You’re right. I was surprised, that’s all.”

  “And I get it. My life hasn’t been very typical, and I have a lot of things I need to work on. I’m waiting to hear back from my landlord, and that’s why it threw me a little when you asked me out.” She wasn’t nervous anymore. Either he was going to understand, or it was better that she knew differently right now. “Trevor, what I need right now is a friend. Someone I can ask questions without it getting all tangled up in other complications.”

  Trevor offered her touch of a smile. “Yeah, I am a complicated fellow.”

  He was one of the most accepting and caring guys she’d ever met. “It’s been fun getting to know you these last couple of days. Can we go back to that?” she asked. “Nothing too fast—there’s no rush.”

  “Sure.” He finished his drink then rose to his feet. “I should be going. But how about
I make a list of some of the things I think you need to learn, and we can get together sometime and start working on it.”

  He didn’t sound annoyed or upset, and the final bit of tension in her stomach eased.

  “That sounds really good.” She walked after him toward the gate. “Trevor?”

  He paused with a hand on the door to his truck. “Yeah, Rodeo?”

  “I promise not to take your truck until I know how to drive it.”

  She got the smile out of him she was hoping for. “Good night.”

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  She waited until he’d driven away, and then she took the books with her and retreated to her room so she could curl up and disappear into a different world.

  Although…this world had taken a decidedly good turn for the better.

  Chapter Nine

  The next days passed in a blur. She saw Trevor twice, for exactly ten minutes at a time.

  “Don’t think this is me copping out on you, or anything.” He stood on her front porch, covered from head to foot in a fine layer of dust. “The family decided this was a good week to seed, so we’ve been going sunrise to sunset most days.”

  “I understand.” She rushed off and returned with a glass of water before he could refuse. “Planting happens when it’s time for it to happen.”

  “Did you want me to—?”

  “Nothing. Go home, have a shower and put your feet up. I’m keeping myself busy cleaning up around here.”

  “But I promised to help you learn some stuff,” he complained.

  Becky laughed. “Trust me, I’ll still have things to learn next week.”

  “If I survive this week, I will be very happy to sit behind a computer with you.”

  On that issue she was happy to have good news to report. “I made Hope show me one step at a time, at least for the thingy we use at work. I can do it now if I concentrate.”

  He chuckled. “The thingy is an iPad.”

  She shook her head. “I suppose if you think about it, that makes sense, but not really.”

  “It’s a computer. It’s not supposed to make sense, it just follows rules.”