Fell's Valley was the epitome of nowhere, but I've never seen more stars at night anywhere I've ever been.
I remember the wide space that was mowed and cleared behind Stryker's store. There was a big fire pit dug out, away from the building. We never got around to spending an evening out there, but we talked about it.
Stryker said he'd build a fire early one afternoon so the coals would be deep by evening and he'd show me how to cook a roast in them.
We're never going to do that.
Come to think of it, we talked about doing a lot of stuff while I was there that we're never going to do now.
I stop along the road side now and then and snap pictures of the scenery. I can't help but think I'll send them to Stryker when I get home. He really enjoyed hearing about my trip and I think he'd like to see where I am right now.
Somewhere around Sonora, as I drop in elevation and the summer heat starts to penetrate my riding gear, I start missing Ninja and maybe, just a little bit, that damn man of hers.
Stryker
I heard from her when she got home. She emailed me since my cell doesn't work for shit out here. She sent me some pictures too. Took forever for the dial up to download them, but it was worth it. It's been a long time since I saw the Sierra Nevada in person.
I started to suggest we could go camping up there sometime, maybe down where the giant Sequoias are or something, then I thought about how stupid that sounded and I ended up just replying with a simple "thanks."
We talked about doing a lot of stuff together when she was here. You know, like she was going to be here long enough to do it all.
I was going to show her how to deep pit a tri tip. Thought it'd make for a romantic night, sitting around the fire pit out in back. I imagined her curled up with her back to my chest while we shared a blanket, drank some good beer, looked up at the stars.
Maybe she'd tell me more about herself. Maybe I'd get to hear more about what she wants to do. I know she likes to go camping and I know she enjoyed her road trip on the bike. I love that she's so independent. Not many chicks would take off on their own like that, even fewer who would want to do it again.
Hopefully, she'll stay in touch, maybe send me more pictures of where ever she ends up next. That'd be cool, living vicariously through Jordan while I'm anchored here at the store.
Maybe she could even come back to visit sometime.
"What?" Ninja's soft whine brings my attention back to the present.
"You miss her, don't ya, girl?" I lean down and scratch her ears but she doesn't move. Ninj hasn't been the same since Jordan left. I don't get attacked by a flying fur ball when I get back upstairs, instead I'm met with a listless lump of coal-black fur that seems to have to talk itself into getting up for anything.
Ninja's eyes roll back up to look at me and I get another pitiful whimper and then she throws herself on the floor side ways with a dramatic thud.
The first couple of days she was acting like this I laughed my ass off at her. Such a fucking drama queen, this dog. It's been just over a week now and not only am I starting to worry that the crazy mutt is genuinely depressed-- I'm starting to worry I might be too.
I can't get Jordan out of my brain.
I wake up at night when my arms wrap around the emptiness that used to be her soft curves. The first few days after she left, I kept cooking meals. Like I was waiting for her to come home to eat or some shit. Then I realized she wasn't going to show up and neither Ninja nor me ended up eating any of it.
These last few days I haven't even nuked a burrito down at the store.
"I miss her too, pup," I get off the sofa and crawl down on the floor till I'm lying beside the moping mop.
Ninja stretches out till her head knocks against my chest and I absently pet her.
Thing is, I never wanted a woman in my house-- or in my life. Not permanently anyway. I've had a handful of girlfriends over the years, but no one that was hard to say goodbye to when it was time to move on.
I saw what losing Mom did to Dad. I never wanted that to happen to me. The way I figured it, loving someone that much meant being vulnerable. I never wanted to love something so much that it'd break me if I lost it.
Ninja rolls over, stretching her neck so she can lick my face.
This damn dog, I think as I giggle like a kid at her antics despite my melancholy. She showed up a few years ago, making herself right at home out on my balcony looking like some sort of creature from a kid's nightmare.
Her hair was matted and she was nothing but skin and bones curled up on the doormat-- the only thing on the patio that she could sleep on to keep the cold air from sapping any more strength out of her little body.
Hell, I thought she might be dead. I didn't make a habit out of using the outside stairs, I had no idea how long she'd been there.
I remember how surprised I was when she weakly nuzzled her nose into my palm when I reached down to her.
It took some doing, I had to shave her to get the mattes off her-- man! Was I surprised at what a fluff ball she turned out to be when her hair grew back. She damn near ate me out of house and home too, scarfing down anything I gave her for several weeks till she got back to a healthy weight and probably figured out I wasn't going to let her go hungry again.
No one ever came looking for her. I figured some asshole must have dropped her off out on the highway or up in the hills and left her on her own. It's a damn miracle coyotes didn't get her before she ended up on my doorstep.
"It's just you and me again, ain't it, girl?" I ask as she wiggles closer to me and rolls over so I can scratch her tummy.
She's like having a damn kid.
Something else I never thought I wanted. Till lately.
Who the hell am I kidding? Till Jordan. Jordan brought new life to this place. Made it feel less like the run-down bachelor pad of a man living without any hope for a future.
"Shit," I say out loud to the dog, "why didn't you ever tell me that before?" Like Ninja's the one who just pointed it out to me.
That's just it. All this time I've been thinking of myself as a man without a plan for the future, when it turns out-- I haven't had any hope for the future.
When Jo was here I felt different. Everything felt different. We were talking about all the stuff we wanted to do...someday...together. I looked forward to starting every new day with her, and I looked forward to crawling into bed with her every night.
Jordan made me feel like there was something to look forward to. She made this place feel like home, not just some temporary situation I'm living in for lack of anything better to do.
Ninja licks my face again.
"Yeah, I know, girl," I tell her, "we were a family for a minute there, weren't we?"
A family I never thought I wanted and one that's gone now.
It takes me 20 minutes to throw my shit in a bag, put a sign on the store, and load Ninja into the truck.
These last few days, I haven't been doing any better living my life than my dad has for the last 10 years. At least Dad knew what he had while he still had time to appreciate it.
Dammit, I'm a fool.
"Buckle up, Ninj," I tell her as the truck fishtails on its way out of the parking lot as I pull onto the highway, "we got a long drive ahead of us."
Jordan
The office let me go early. I guess that turns out to be a good thing, I think as I scan my apartment. I have to be out of here by the end of the week and I still don't know where I'm going.
Mom and Dad sold the house to RV full time, and they're currently back east somewhere. So much for Mom's promise that there'd "always" be a place for me if I needed to move home.
The bestie says I can crash on her couch for as long as I need to, but they've got a new baby and I don't want to be a burden. Plus, she's in Iowa. That's a long way away to sleep on a couch.
I have a chunk of money in the account for the moment, between the vacation time I was able to cash out and the severance package the co
mpany gave me, but it won't last long if I don't find a new job soon and I'm not likely to find a decent apartment while I'm unemployed.
Right now what I need to get done is figure out how to get the stuff that's going to Goodwill to Goodwill, how to get the stuff that's going to the dump to the dump, and how to get the stuff that's going to storage to storage.
One car load at a time, I tell myself. It'll take a million trips in each direction with my little compact sedan, but I don't know anyone with a truck I can borrow.
Stryker.
I think of the big diesel truck parked behind the store. It sure would come in handy right now. Not to mention how helpful it would be to have a strong man like Stryker helping me load things up.
Truth of the matter is, I've been thinking about Stryker a lot lately. Ever since I got home, I can't seem to get him off my mind.
At least packing up the place has given me something to distract me from how bad I want to email him again. But the whole attraction was that it wasn't permanent.
He made it clear he wasn't looking for anything serious. He doesn't plan on getting married or having kids of his own. That's what I liked. The reason I was willing to share his bed while I was stuck there. I didn't have to worry about him getting attached. We were just temporary.
No obligations, no complications.
So after I sent him the one email letting him know I made it home safe like he asked me to, with some of the pictures I thought he'd like, I haven't given in to the urge to keep in touch.
I don't need him thinking I'm attached. That I'm some love sick drama queen that can't hack a simple hook up.
Even if it's the truth.
Inwardly, I groan. OK, more of an irritated growl. I've been telling myself to get a grip for days now. I've dated since Bryan. I never got attached. That's not me. I'm a bad ass, independent woman, holding the reins to my own destiny, dammit!
The last thing I want in my life is a relationship.
I need a pick up truck and a strong back, not a husband.
A couple of my neighbors in this complex have trucks, even if we aren't exactly close, maybe I can get them to help me out if one of them is home.
Opening the front door and walking out onto the second floor landing, the first thing I see is the dark blue truck in the guest parking space across from my building. Something about it seems familiar, but it's not until the dark smudge of fur in the open driver's side window starts barking excitedly that it registers.
"Ninja?" I ask no one in particular as I squint at the frantic dog that seems focused on me.
It can't be.
It's just an ordinary Ford truck in an ordinary, factory blue, with a black dog in the cab. On any given day of the week in any given American town, there must be at least 7 of those laying around, right?
A man's voice echoes off the stucco walls of the apartment complex from somewhere downstairs. I can't hear what he says, but it sounds like he's talking to the dog.
The dog that I'm certain can't be Ninja pauses its barking momentarily, turning its head toward the source of the deep voice that sounds a little like, but can't possibly be, Stryker, and then looks back up at me standing at the railing and starts barking again.
I hear heavy steps bounding up the concrete stairs and then a familiar face comes into view.
"Jo!"
Stryker looks surprised to see me standing outside my own apartment, like I'm the one who doesn't fit in this picture.
"I found her!" He calls down to the barking dog who, oddly enough, seems happy with the information and stops barking.
"You closed the store?" It's the first thing I think of. He lost a lot of business with the gas tank being dry for so long and now he's here, and so is his truck and Ninja. That means the store will be closed for a few days.
He said he never leaves.
"Yeah." He's standing so close to me, looking down at me with those blue eyes. His fingers comb through his dirty blonde hair, doing nothing to smooth the wind blown tangles from miles of driving with his windows open.
"Don't you have air conditioning in that thing?" I joke, as I reach up and try to help. I really just want to touch him, make sure he's real, stall for time while I try to make sense of the jittery feeling in my stomach.
He catches my hand in his and holds it to his cheek. Ever since I met him, he's had a beard. Not one of those long, bushy ones, more like he only shaves when he feels like it, but the stubble on the side of his face isn't as long as the whiskers on his chin and his skin is rough under my hand.
"Yeah, but Ninj likes having the windows open." He smiles against my palm and then moves my hand to kiss my fingertips. "We missed you, Jo," he murmurs against my fingertips.
The feeling in my stomach goes from jittery to jumpy and I'm not sure what to think of it. For that matter, I'm not sure what to think of him being here, or what he's saying.
I tell myself to calm down and not jump to conclusions. Just because he drove all the way down here without any warning doesn't mean anything.
Funny how you can convince yourself of the dumbest shit when you're in denial.
Stryker
I have her address because she left it in case she left anything behind that I might need to ship back to her. It took about 12 hours of driving straight through the night to get here and by the time I decipher the way the buildings are numbered in this complex and pull into a parking spot in front of what I think is hers, I'm exhausted.
Not to mention starving.
Lucky Ninja's been able to nap on the way. She's wide awake and ready to hunt Jordan down as soon as the truck stops moving.
"Hang on, kid," I tell her, "you keep an eye out and let me know if you see her."
I slip out of the driver's seat and close the door behind me, leaving the black tail wagging furiously at the steering wheel as Ninja watches me start my hunt for Jo's apartment.
This place is like a maze and the numbers don't seem to be in the right order. I'm headed in one direction when I hear Ninja start barking like crazy.
When I turn around to see what the hell the mutt is so excited about, I notice she's standing on the driver's seat of the truck with her front paws up on the door and her attention is focused on something upstairs at the building next to the one I'm aiming for.
"Is it a c-a-t?" I ask, not sure what's got her so wound up.
Stepping out from under the eaves of the garage I'm standing next to so I can look up at the balcony that has Ninja's attention, I see what the fuss is about.
Jordan is standing at the edge of the upstairs railing, staring down at my truck-- and Ninja-- with a look on her face that I'm not sure is entirely thrilled.
Shit. What if she really doesn't want to see me again? We did spend some of our time together actually having conversations, she was pretty adamant that she was done with relationships after the last guy ran out on her.
She said all she wants is fun. No more obligations. No more expectations. No more broken hearts.
Sounded like music to my ears at the time.
Of course, that was before my dog fell in love with her. Before she left us to realize just how alone we really are up there by ourselves.
If I can't convince her to come back with us, well hell, I'm not sure Ninja's going to be OK with that.
She doesn't seem to see me staring up at her. She's so pretty. I remember the first time I saw her, thinking she looked like a fucking wet dream sitting in my parking lot by the gas pumps with Ninja in her arms like they'd known each other their whole lives.
Maybe I was a goner from right then, I don't know.
I remember the way she looked in my old pajamas, fresh out of the shower that first night when I finally broke through her ice queen facade and discovered just how hot she could be.
It's amazing I didn't see this coming. This whole thing. Me, Ninja, a thousand miles of driving all night to get her back. Like some love struck fool. But here I am, and right now, there's no getting around t
he fact that I'm in love with the woman standing up there looking at my dog like she's never seen one before.
I'm in love with that woman and I have to do whatever it takes to get her to agree to come home with me.
I call her name as soon as I can see her over the top of the stairs that I'm taking 2 at a time and then I call out to let Ninja know I found her.
Jordan looks at me with a confused expression and I hope against hope that it's just because she's not expecting me and not because she doesn't want to see me.
I should have called her, texted her once I got into a place where the damn cell works. I should have let her know I was on my way, warned her, given her a chance to tell me not to bother before I was standing in front of her.
Because I swear, if she shoots me down now, I'm going to fall apart. Right here at her feet in front of anyone who might come out to see what's going on when they hear me cry like a baby.
With a deep breath and a hard swallow, I close the distance from the top of the stairs till I'm standing in front of one very nervous-looking Jordan.
Did I close the goddamn store? That's all she has to say? What the fuck? Seriously? Maybe I really am about to get my ass handed to me.
My hand moves across my hair, I must look like some crazy mountain man with my hair sticking up all over the place and I haven't bothered to clean up the beard in days either. My fingers comb through my hair, making a too late effort to make myself presentable. It's all tangled and I give up hope, but a faint little smirk curls Jo's lips and she reaches up to help me out.
I relax just a little-- just a little-- and catch her hand in mine, pressing her palm to my cheek. Her hand is so cool against my skin, making me feel feverish by comparison.
Fever is probably exactly what I have too. Must be, to make me do something as crazy as this.
"We missed you, Jo." It's the scariest thing I've ever done, admitting that to her, but she needs to know. Even if she tells me to go home, that it was just a couple of nights that didn't mean anything to her afterward, I have to tell her how much more it was for me.
BONE Page 8
