by Debra Kayn
"Okay."
He blew out his breath. "Talk to you later, then."
"Bye."
He disconnected the call, put down the phone, and smacked the steering wheel. Pain radiated to his fingers, and he shook his hand, forgetting that he'd just had stitches put in. He wanted to push Jolene to see him, but he had to go easy. When she finally decided to love him again, he wanted her not to be afraid of him. Afraid of herself. Afraid of revisiting what they'd had together and finding the love they shared had never gone away.
CHAPTER 24
Love is the silent saying and saying of a single name. — Mignon McLaughlin
The fire crackled. Jolene brushed off her hands after putting two more logs on the coals and walked over to the couch. She picked up her notebook and recounted the questions she'd put down to ask Caiden. There were twenty original questions. One for each year they'd been separated. The coincidence bothered her, and she crossed out ten of them.
Ten questions wouldn't seem invasive. She'd slip them into normal conversation, and he wouldn't even notice that she was curious about his life.
She picked up her cell phone. Five more minutes, if he called on time. Pulling her legs onto the couch, she covered her lap with a blanket and waited.
Her life was all about waiting. Waiting to grow up. Waiting to get out of her parents' home. Waiting to marry Caiden. Waiting to get out of the clinic. Waiting to succeed.
Today, she'd waited for inspiration to hit while working on the Quintessential Line and ended up staring at the garnets and feeling off. Not only discontented from what was happening in her personal life but with her jewelry. The pieces she felt good about, better than good, bothered her for no other reason than she couldn't see what made them special.
She cupped the back of her neck and rotated her head side to side. Tomorrow, she'd see things with fresh eyes after a good night's rest. She was probably tired, and with the unsettled feelings sitting out in the open between her and Caiden, it was expected that her professional life would feel the strain.
The phone beeped. She jolted and grabbed the cell, hovering her finger over the screen. It was Caiden.
She waited through two more beeps and answered. "Hello."
"Hey." Caiden's voice even deeper and sexier over the phone. "Did you finish the work you had to do today?"
"Mm." She picked at a loose thread on the blanket. "I worked, but it wasn't as productive as I hoped for."
"Some days are like that."
"I suppose." She let go of the blanket and looked at the flames of the fire. "How was your day?"
"I've had worse days." He paused. "Talking to you is making it better."
Hypnotized by the flames and his voice, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. One little compliment from him had her feeling more comfortable than she had all day.
"So, you own the gas station." She scooted down on the couch, leaning against the arm. "I remember when Mr. Medlin used to threaten to fire you when you'd show up late for work, and you were telling me all the time that you were going to quit working for him."
"He's dead." Caiden's voice softened. "Cancer."
"Oh." She propped her elbow on the couch and finger combed the ends of her hair. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"He visited me. In prison."
She dropped her hand to her lap. The news surprised her. There were few people in Caiden's life before he'd been arrested. Though she remembered Mr. Medlin would often send the to-go food home with Caiden when the station closed to make sure he had something to eat at the apartment, which often he had none.
"When I was released, I knew others wouldn't hire someone with my criminal record and went to Mr. Medlin to see if he'd rehire me. He hired me that day without any questions and eventually told me he was selling the station because he had cancer, and wanted to know if I was interested in buying it. I asked him if I could have six months to try and earn enough money to make a down payment, not even knowing if a bank would loan me the rest, and he agreed. I went back to boxing, and things turned out better than I'd hoped. I was able to buy it outright with the winnings, thanks to Mr. Medlin giving me a deal I couldn't walk away from. It took me awhile—after his death— to realize he'd lost money on the deal and had helped me re-enter society."
"He must've really liked you," she said.
"I'm not sure if the son of a bitch liked me or hated me and thought handing over the gas station was his final joke toward me." Caiden chuckled. "But, it worked out for both of us. I went on and was able to buy a few houses in foreclosure with the profits off the station over the last ten years. Never thought I'd have money in my wallet. I remember when I was sixteen and pumping gas, people would open up their wallet and hand me cash. That was the sign of comfort to me. If a person had a roof over his head and had a few dollars left over to put in his wallet, life looked good."
She spread her fingers out on the blanket and looked at her rings. "You still like the idea of a simple life, Caiden Hall."
She could almost see his nod over the phone. The softening of his mouth. His eyes drawn to her. She used to love listening to him dream of the future. Born with nothing, he protected his wishes, and she always felt honored he trusted her enough to share them with her.
"What about you?" The soft whoosh of his breath came through the phone. "Are you happy making jewelry?"
"I am." She hesitated. "But, it wasn't always lucrative. There were years that I attended every craft show, festival, and expo, trying to sell my pieces among other crafters who were selling crocheted sheep and the latest wooden planter shaped like a train, you know."
"Eating hot dogs and Ramen?"
She laughed softly. "On the good days, but it made me stronger and more determined until I found myself drawn to mineral shows and found the love of turning gemstones into unique pieces of art, eventually finding the right audience. I worked my way up until I was able to approach jewelry retailers personally and put the craft shows behind me."
Silence settled in between them as the conversation closed. Jolene pulled her legs up closer to her chest, noticing the fire had dwindled down to a glow.
"Jolene?" said Caiden.
She stared at the fireplace. "Yes?"
"I'm proud of you," he said quietly.
Her vision blurred until only an orange glowing ball remained in focus. The pressure to bend and change her thinking muffled her ability to say his name. She could see his name in her mind. But, she couldn't form the sound. They'd taken him from her. Stripped the barriers and left her a lesser person who had to rebuild her life.
"Jolene?"
She opened her eyes. "I'm trying hard to breathe."
"I know you are," he said. "I'm going to make sure you do."
"How?"
"I'm trying to figure that out as we go along." He sighed. "But, I aim to find out what will help make it easier for you."
She sat straighter. He had all of her attention. "That's not your job to make my life easier."
"I'm not sure I even know what my job is anymore." Thumping came over the phone, and she imagined him tapping his boot against the hardwood floor. "What I've done in my life is who I am, but what I've done is not who I want to be for you."
"There was never anything wrong with you before," she whispered.
"Time's the enemy, Jolene. I'm struggling with knowing I'm responsible for all that we've lost."
"C-can we talk about something different?" She flipped the edge of the paper with her finger.
"Sure," he said.
She put her feet on the floor and tossed off the blanket. "How many employees do you have working at the gas station?"
"Five. Three cashiers and two stockers."
"You said this morning that you don't have to be there when the station is open..."
"One day off won't hurt, now and then." The thumping in the background stopped. "I ended up going in for an hour to work in the office, though."
She glanced down at the paper. "What happene
d to your Impala?"
"I still have it. Kurt put it in one of the storage warehouses on the Bantorus property after my mom passed away. I bring it out in the summer and drive it."
"I'm glad you still have it," she said. "How did you get the scar on your right eyebrow?"
"Boxing."
"Hm." She wanted to veer away from any talk of boxing and asked, "I noticed you also like Reuben sandwiches at Rail Point. Not that I was checking to see what you were eating, but I had the same thing, and that's why I made you a Reuben when you were here that one night. I thought—"
"Jolene?"
"Yes?"
"Are you reading all these questions off a list?"
She set the paper down. "No, of course not."
"Liar." He chuckled. "You always were big on making lists. Your homework. The pros and cons on what we should do on a Saturday night when neither of us had any idea, except to have sex. Even a list of things you wanted to do in the summer."
Her chest warmed. Even when she'd listed other options, they usually ended up at the cabin. Sex was only one of the things they enjoyed together.
"You're quiet," he said.
She scooted to the edge of the couch. "I need to let you go."
"Did I push too far?"
"No." She inhaled deeply to quiet the flutters in her stomach and failed. "We just need to hang up now."
"Why?"
She closed her eyes when they teared up. "Because I really enjoyed the conversation and I want to end tonight with us in a good place."
"Yeah?"
She nodded and realized he couldn't see her, and said, "Yeah."
"Okay," he said. "Night, Jolene."
"Night, Caiden," she whispered, waiting several seconds to see if he'd say anymore. When he remained silent, she disconnected the call.
She flopped back on the couch. That was the first conversation in twenty years that they'd talked toward one another as if they were friends. He'd thrown in his memories. She brought some of her memories to the conversation. It all felt too comfortable and real.
She moistened her lips and stood. Walking to the bedroom, she whispered, "Caiden. Caiden. Caiden."
She smiled as she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 25
Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood. — Andy Goldsworthy
A snowball sailed through the air and landed on Jolene's shoulder. She lunged behind the porch post.
"Stop." She laughed, shaking off the front of her sweater. "No more."
Caiden bent over and scooped more snow in his hands. "Then, say yes."
"I just finished shoveling the path to the car and took off my snow gear." She peeked around the pole. "Besides, I don't know where you'd take me."
He dropped the snow. "The kids in Bantorus are going up to the top of the mountain and going sledding." He dropped the snow. "A few of the men worked on plowing the road, so we can drive my truck clear to the top. There will be a fire, some hot drinks, and I thought...well, I want to spend the day with you, Jolene."
"Top of the mountain, not the clubhouse?" She rubbed her hands together to get warm.
He nodded.
"You're not tricking me, right?" She raised her brows and studied him.
He grinned. "Dress warmly."
She shook her head at his assumption and yet walked inside the cabin, leaving him out in the cold. Besides her yard, she hadn't had the opportunity to go up on the top of the Bitterroot Mountains since returning to the area. It was a place where she'd gone with Caiden in the spring to see the wildflowers, the winter to sled, the fall to view the blanket of colors, and in the summer to sit on the hood of his Impala and watch the sunset.
Stepping into her snow pants, she snapped and zipped, then she found her gloves, scarf, and hat. In a hurry, she struggled with the zipper of her coat. At last, she stepped into her boots feeling as if she could roll out the door with all her layers.
She stepped outside and remembered her phone. "Just a second."
She hurried back inside, shoved her phone in her jacket, and went back outside. After she had locked the door, she put her keychain in her other pocket. "Okay, I'm ready."
Caiden walked ahead of her through the path she'd created in the snow. She admired his tight butt as he strode forward and ended up smiling at the normalcy of the moment. She climbed into the truck, knowing he was unaware of her checking him out and wondered what he'd do if he found out.
Caiden started the truck. An almost purple scar on his hand caught her attention. She leaned forward and grabbed the dashboard. "What happened to your hand?"
The wound had healed, but it was new. She would've remembered seeing it when he'd made a fire for the first time in the cabin.
"Just a small cut."
"It doesn't look small. It looks new and tender." She looked up at his face, checking for any bruising to figure out if he was boxing or not. He appeared okay.
He backed out onto the road, turned the truck around, and drove away from the cabin.
The heater soon warmed her beyond comfortable, and she took off her hat and gloves. Flipping down the visor in front of her and looking in the mirror, she combed her fingers through her hair, battling the static making the attempt to appear polished unhelpful.
"You look beautiful," said Caiden.
She glanced at him and flipped the visor up. "I forgot how much static is in the air during the winter here."
Caiden held out his hand, pointing his finger. She touched her index finger to his and laughed at the snap from the electricity in the air. No words needed to be spoken. She remembered running through his apartment above the bar to catch him unaware, shocking him, which started the static shock war and ended up with them in bed. Sometimes having sex. Other times kissing. God, they could kiss for hours.
She unzipped her jacket. "Is it hot in here?"
"Not yet," he mumbled.
She gawked at him. Was he flirting or warning her? She fanned her face and looked out the side window. If she kept walking down memory lane, she'd be stripped naked by the time they crested the mountain.
"The children will be there?" The more, the merrier. The younger, the safer.
"Yeah." He turned off the main road and drove the narrow logging road.
The truck gained elevation, and the terrain dropped away on her side. She held on to the door handle. The children she knew twenty years ago were now adults. They might even have their own babies now, like Poppy.
It was hard for her to believe how much time had passed since Caiden sat beside her and they didn't have to pretend that everything was okay. That their outing was normal. That they both hadn't lived through the worst experience of their lives.
The truck stopped. She looked to Caiden and found him reaching toward the floorboard, putting the truck in four-wheel drive.
The snow continued coming down. She bit her lip and remained quiet. Her life had become more reserved than when she was younger. Long hours at the work table and throwing herself into her creations had given her a more sedate lifestyle. It'd been a long time since she rode on a mountain trail with a five-hundred-foot drop-off only a few feet from the tires of the truck.
The steep height and slippery road made her nervous.
There was no way she could drive in the snow on the side of the mountain. Even willingly going where there would be a lot of people she didn't know or didn't know any longer forced her out of her comfort zone.
That was her reality.
"Hold on." Caiden drove forward, fighting to keep the truck in the tire tracks of the vehicle that'd gone up the mountain ahead of them.
After the next switchback, she took a deep breath. The mountainside was now on her side of the truck making her feel more secure. She looked over at Caiden, who appeared relaxed as he concentrated on the road.
"You still enjoy the outdoors," she stated.
"Even more after I got out of prison. The fresh air and open space calm me." The rear truck tires spun for
traction, and he turned the steering wheel to keep them on the road. "I'm glad you agreed to come with me today."
"Why?"
He accelerated and turned the truck, climbing higher over the steep terrain. Around the corner, the road widened, and they rolled to a stop with other vehicles parked around. Shutting off the engine, he said, "It's a family event. Not much fun to go by myself."
"I don't know. It sounds like Bantorus considers you family. They took care of you after you returned to Federal and you enjoy your time at the clubhouse." She zipped her jacket and put on her hat.
"I do." He dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "Ready to go join the madness?"
"I think so." She put on her gloves. "It's been a long time since I've been up here."
"Well, it's a good day to return." He got out of the truck.
She opened the door, and he'd already walked around the vehicle and held out his hand for her to grab. She jumped down into the snow, surprised to find herself buried up to her thighs. Caiden took three giant steps toward her and grabbed her hand. She clung to him for balance as she lifted her legs out of the deep snow.
He led her in front of the truck where the snow had been packed, and she no longer had to trudge through the powder. They approached the crowd. Glad for the security that came with having Caiden by her side, she held on to his hand and hoped it was okay that she was crashing on a private sledding party.
Childish squeals and excited chatter came from her right, grabbing Jolene's attention. She peered at the group and smiled. Kids, bundled until they looked like colorful balloons, bounced at the edge of the slope, vying for position on the sleds the adults held.
"Hey, Hall." A Bantorus member walked over to Caiden. "How's it going?"
"Can't complain." Caiden squeezed her hand. "Do you remember Jolene? She used to come around before I went to prison."
The man's brows shot up under his beanie. "I do. It's been years. Hi, Jolene."
Jolene smiled, recognizing the tattoos and easy smile. "It's good to see you, Ink."
"Lilly's around here somewhere. She brought her camera up with her and is determined to get some pictures of the kids." Ink searched the area. "That's her in the red coat and snow pants."
