Just a Cowboy

by Rachel Lee

  Like now. She couldn’t stop looking nervously around, wondering if her killer could be hiding somewhere right this minute, waiting for his chance.

  Hank returned in five minutes. “Caulking is fine,” he smiled, and together they went into his house. As they stepped on the porch, another rumble of thunder reached them and he paused to look southward.

  “Weird,” he said.

  “What is?”

  “We don’t get a lot of rain here. We’re in the rain shadow of the mountains, so we stay pretty dry. Two storms in two days?”

  “Climate change,” she suggested.

  “Climate chaos, more like.” He twisted the key in the door and waved her in ahead of him. “We’ve been getting more snow in the winters so, yeah. Why should I be surprised if we get more rain in the summers?”

  Inside, he closed and locked the door, then faced her with a smile. “Okay, I’m taking that rest day you insisted on. So how do you want to spend it? We can read, play cards, watch movies or sit out back and get sunburned.”

  The notion of sitting outside didn’t appeal to her, in part because she would feel exposed, and partly because the temperatures here were so much cooler than she was used to in Miami that she couldn’t imagine sunning herself.

  “I’d be out there bundled up in your sweatshirt.”

  “That’s what I forgot. I was going to take you by Freitag’s Mercantile so you could get a sweater or something. Not that they’re probably selling much in the way of cool-weather clothing right now.”

  “I’ll give you your sweatshirt back,” she offered hastily. “It must bother you to see me wearing it.”

  “That’s not what I meant. It doesn’t bother me at all or I wouldn’t have gotten it out. No, I just thought you’d like to have something that fits better.”

  The truth was, she loved being swallowed by his sweatshirt. Overnight it had come to feel like a security blanket. “It’s fine. I love it. So let’s not go racing to the store right now.”

  He gave her a mock frown. “You’re interfering with my every attempt not to be indolent.”

  “I hardly think an afternoon off is indolence.”

  The frown eased into a smile. “Coffee and cards? Or coffee and books? Or movies. Or whatever.”

  Her mind chose a path on that whatever that almost made her blush. She’d been trying since he rolled out of bed in agony last night not to think about what had started between them, and she didn’t dare mention it, even if lying in his arms in that bed sounded like the best thing in the world to her. Of all the options, she would have chosen whatever. But she couldn’t even guess if he felt the same way.

  “Definitely coffee,” she said after a moment. “And maybe some cards? I haven’t played in a long time, and I’m not ready yet to settle in to a book.”

  They played Hearts, but the conversation didn’t revolve around cards.

  “That’s awful—what happened to your sheriff,” she remarked.

  “I know. Every time I’ve even wandered close to self-pity, I’ve thought about Gage. Wife and kids, and he was standing right there when it happened. Cripes.”

  “But things are better for him now?”

  “Much. He married our librarian, known to everyone as Miss Emma, and they’ve adopted a couple of children. He told me once that he was so scared of losing kids that for a long time he wouldn’t even consider it. And for a long time after they got their first, he hovered over the baby constantly, frightened that something might happen.”

  She nodded. “And you? Do you feel the same way?”

  He stared at his cards and finally looked at her. “For a while I did. I had resolved to become a hermit.”

  “And after that an old curmudgeon?”

  He flashed a grin. “That was the next option. Unfortunately, being a hermit doesn’t exactly suit me, and I still can’t bring myself to yell at the kids for playing on my lawn.”

  “You’ve got a lot of work to do on that image.”

  “Tell me about it. It might help me develop if a baseball came flying through a window, but the kids tend to play in the park two blocks over, so I’ve given up on that ever happening.”

  “I could go ask one to do it.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t bother. I’d just replace the window.”

  At that she laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re funny, Hank Jackson.”

  He put a hand over his heart. “I think I’m wounded.”

  “Hardly. You’re a softie. You’d no more yell at a kid than you would have told me to get lost once you knew I was in trouble. Heck, even before you knew you didn’t throw me out of that house. And you could have. No, you just went to work to make it safe. And now look at you. Your hermitage has been invaded. By your own invitation.”

  “Just don’t tell anyone. I’m working on it, okay?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He chuckled again. Then their eyes locked across the table, and the laughter faded. After a moment he said, “Um, so are you going to pick up your life in Miami after the divorce is settled?”

  A few weeks ago, she might have said yes. Maybe even a few days ago. “I lived in Florida all my life. It’s what I know. But…”

  “But?”

  “I’m not sure anymore. So far I like it here. And I probably shouldn’t admit it, but I like not being hot all the time. I didn’t expect that.”

  Another couple of moments ticked by, their gazes still locked. “Why didn’t you expect it?” he asked.

  “Because I’m so used to the weather down there. And I always hate it when it gets cold and nothing I do seems to keep me warm. Except…I like the coolness here.”

  “It can get awful in the winters if you’re not used to it.”

  “I expect so. But I could probably get used to it.”

  “I’m sure you could.” He leaned back a bit, breaking the eye contact that had begun to make her oddly breathless. “More coffee?”

  “Please.”

  He emptied both their cups, getting rid of what had cooled down and replacing it with fresh, hot brew. “So you’re thinking about a major life change,” he remarked as he sat across from her again. “This place seems a bit out of the way and slow for someone from Miami.”

  “That’s part of what I like about it. I guess my only problem would be finding a job. How many medical billing clerks can you need around here?”

  “I don’t know. You might ask at the hospital if the urge to stay keeps growing on you. We have kind of a brain drain. Young folks get out of here as fast as they can. Off to bigger cities or colleges, and they seldom come back.”

  “That’s sad.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I did it myself. For a while the drain slowed down. The junior college still helps, and the semiconductor plant stemmed the tide to almost nothing, but then they started laying people off. So, you know, they might actually need a billing clerk at the hospital. Or I guess you could train for a different career at the college. If you decide to stay.”

  If she decided to stay. She made a show of picking up her cards again, but she didn’t really see them. The urge to plant herself here permanently was growing, but she couldn’t be certain why. Maybe it was Hank. Maybe it was feeling, for the first time in ages, that someone actually gave a damn about her.

  It seemed like a nice town, but there were lots of nice towns. If this urge she was feeling hinged on Hank…well, that could wind up being a stupid thing to do. Other than wanting to make love to her—and she wasn’t even completely certain about that—he’d given her no reason to think he wanted her to hang around.

  He was just being a nice guy.

  And why that should sadden her so much, she couldn’t begin to say.

  Hank noticed her mood change, and ran their conversation back in his mind, trying to figure out if he’d said something. But no, it had been merely a casual conversation about staying here in Conard County. No big deal that he could see…unless that was it. Maybe the thought of restarting
her life had saddened her all over again. That wouldn’t be surprising.

  But then she surprised him with the turn of her thoughts. “You know what you said about how maybe Dean just wanted to scare me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think so. He’d already agreed to the settlement. Which, according to my lawyer, was as good as having it cast in stone at that point. And my lawyer said something else. He said that if I tried to lower the amount, no judge would agree because he or she would be certain I’d been intimidated.”

  “Ah. I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense.”

  “Well, wouldn’t Dean’s lawyer have made that clear to him, too, that once he signed a settlement agreement it was as good as done?”

  “You’re right.” He hated to say it, only now realizing how much he had been cherishing a hope that this whole thing would blow over without any more trouble for her. “I’m not a lawyer.”

  One corner of her mouth tugged briefly upward, in a smile that couldn’t quite make it. “Sorry, I guess I can’t forget about it for very long. Now I’ve ruined the mood.”

  What mood, he wondered. Something had cast her down, the minute they started talking about her future plans. It wasn’t as if they’d been having some kind of riotous party and she’d burst into tears inexplicably. “You didn’t ruin anything. We were just playing cards. I imagine that thinking about all the changes ahead of you isn’t easy.”

  “It’s easier than thinking that creep might be on my tail.” She sighed and pushed her cards aside. “I just want it over. I’m tired of the whole mess. I am so ready to move on.”

  Move on to where? But there was no answer to that yet. He doubted that she would want to stay here once she got to know the place. Oh, there was no better place than this for raising a family, making friends, settling down. But she was used to a different kind of life. Conard County would probably bore her to tears once she saw enough of it.

  But amid his concern for her, he felt a niggle of concern for himself. He was getting involved here, however casually, with someone who would leave. He needed his head examined. Hadn’t losing Fran been lesson enough?

  Unfortunately, that argument didn’t seem to be working as well anymore. Now that he was mostly past survivor guilt, it was beginning to sound a bit puerile—even to him. Bad things happened to everyone. Picking up your toys and going home never to play again was a childish response. Useless, too. Life had landed on his doorstep and, if nothing else, it was time to realize that he was still alive.

  And if, given the same set of circumstances, he would still go into that building to save a woman’s life, then maybe he needed to get around to honestly forgiving himself. Not just saying it, but believing it. He hadn’t asked Fran or Allan to follow him. They had made that decision the same way he had made his own.

  He suddenly froze as a dawning understanding hit him.

  “Hank? What’s wrong?”

  Part of him wanted to keep the new understanding private. Yet a bigger part of him needed to share it, to test it against the response of another human being.

  “I just…realized something,” he said.

  “Yes?” Her blue eyes were concerned, gentle. Such gentle eyes. He was glad that tenderness had survived her marriage.

  “I just realized that I didn’t ask Fran and Allan to come into that building with me. I never even glanced their way. They made their own decision to go with me.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, then waited, as if she knew there was more.

  “Well, I never thought of it quite this way before, but it just struck me: By taking the blame for what happened to them, by feeling that it’s all my fault they’re gone, I dishonor them.”

  “Dishonor them how?”

  “By not recognizing they were capable of making their own decision to help save that woman. That they were doing what firefighters do, just as I was. And to think they went in only because of me does them no honor at all. They would have gone whether I had or not.”

  She nodded slowly. “You’re right. Looking at it that way does honor them. And I agree. They weren’t kids just tagging along, were they? No, they were experienced firefighters, too.”

  “Yes. They were. Great ones.” He drew a long breath and let go of some deep pain that never left him. “I guess that’s what they call an epiphany.”

  “It sounds like it.” She reached for her cards and began swirling them on the table, pointlessly, except possibly to occupy her hands. “You told me to stop second-guessing myself. You even said that if you were in exactly the same circumstances, knowing what you knew then and not what you know now, that you would have gone into that building.”

  “I did.”

  Her smile was faint. “Your friends evidently reached the same conclusion. “Can you even be sure you were the first one to move?”

  “No. Heat, smoke, face mask…I didn’t see them until we were inside. And then it was too late.”

  “So maybe you all moved at once. I admit, I don’t get being a firefighter. But going into situations like that seems to be what firefighters do.”

  He gave a short nod. What was there to say? Anyone who couldn’t do exactly that didn’t make it much past training.

  “My guess would be that you all made exactly the same decision at exactly the same moment when you heard there was a woman inside.”

  “Maybe.”

  She pursed her lips, but he could still see a smile there. “No maybe about it. They were good firefighters. You said so yourself.”

  And that was the crux of the matter right there. All three of them had had the same instinct and responded in the same way. They hadn’t exchanged a word or a look. They’d just gone in.

  “What if you hadn’t gone in, but they had?” she asked. “Somehow I don’t think you’d feel any better about this.”

  No, for a fact. He was sure of that. He closed his eyes a moment, his head suddenly filled with the captain’s crackling voice as it had come over the radio just seconds before the collapse. “Get out. Get out now. The structure is about to go.”

  But there hadn’t been time. They’d turned around, facing the inevitable: that they wouldn’t be able to save the trapped woman if the building was falling. And that was all he remembered.

  “Okay,” he said. “Enough of that. I don’t want to go back there.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “So let’s talk about you.”

  “Me? What about me?”

  “Well, it seems like a good time for building castles in the air. You’re about to shuck Dean and start fresh. There has to be something good in that.”

  “I may feel more like it once it’s past.” But she seemed to shake herself a little, as if redirecting her thoughts. “I haven’t really done a lot of thinking about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, first, the divorce was looming. I got myself this little apartment, managed to get hired as a waitress because no other doctor wanted to touch me while I was divorcing Dean, and I just wasn’t thinking about much except getting through it. I guess I assumed I’d just keep living in that apartment, find a permanent job and go on pretty much the way I was.”

  “Except for old friends.”

  A short, mirthless laugh escaped her. “Yeah, they sure vanished into the woodwork fast enough. I broke the unwritten code, I guess.”

  “Which is?”

  “Never divorce a wealthy older man.” But then she frowned. “And maybe that’s not entirely fair. I mean, I’m sure it made them uncomfortable in a lot of ways. Being around someone going through that kind of emotional upheaval isn’t fun.”

  “But that’s when true friends stick.”

  “You’d think.” She shook her head again. “Some of them got really angry at me. But the one who made me angriest of all was Jill. She said she wouldn’t judge me.”

  “Hah! That sounds like she already had.”

  “That’s what I thought. Didn’t ask for my side or a
nything. Just said she wouldn’t judge me. Gee, thanks.”

  “So not even one stuck around?”

  “No. But then, they were all people I got to know because of Dean. It’s not like any of them were my friends. And working in his office, I didn’t get a chance to meet anyone he didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, that would complicate it. So you must have felt truly alone.”

  “I did.”

  He knew that feeling. It didn’t necessarily come from friends deserting you. It could even happen among friends who were trying to be supportive, simply because they couldn’t understand. In the end, he had been the one who’d abandoned his friends. He shifted uncomfortably.

  And all of a sudden he needed to get up, move around, do something. He rose from the table. “I’m going to walk around outside.”

  “Do you want company?”

  He hesitated. There was still this amorphous threat hanging over her, the uncertainty about whether a killer might show up at any moment. Better to be together, he decided. If that guy showed up, bent on finishing the job, he’d most likely try when she was alone.

  “Sure,” he said. He was getting uncomfortable inside his own skin, but her presence wasn’t going to change that one way or another. He needed movement, action, the way plants needed the sun. Life might force him to be sedentary sometimes, but he didn’t have to like it.

  Building storm clouds and increasing wind added a wild element to the day that he savored. Rare enough that he got to enjoy weather like this around here. Together they walked past her rental house. He figured he’d take a turn around the block and see how he felt about going farther.

  He always wanted to go farther these days. And it was always a trade-off about how much he wanted to pay for it later. His doc kept saying it would improve in time, but nobody was willing to say how much it would improve, or even when. Maybe it was just a matter of getting used to it.

  The tang of ozone in the air tickled his nose. He glanced over at Kelly and saw that she had her eyes half-closed and her head tipped back a bit, as if she were soaking it all in. So she liked it, too.