by Jeannie Watt
“How long are you staying?” Shelby asked.
“Just a couple days. I’m appearing at a benefit in Pendleton and I thought I might get a house close to the beach for a couple days after that. Enjoy some peace and quiet before the event.” A few days alone might help him get his shit together. Then, when he came back through Marietta, he could look Kristen up. Take her to dinner. By that time, she’d be back on the job search and he’d be a pleasant memory. In other words, they would have both come to their senses.
“Nothing like quiet time to heal.” Shelby had hung around rough stock riders long enough to know exactly what he was doing.
“Exactly.” He grinned at Les. “I know I’ll get put to work if I stay here.”
“That’s a fact,” Les agreed easily.
He wouldn’t have minded working if he wasn’t hurt. He liked work. In that regard, he and Kristen were alike. They were both driven—just in different directions.
“Do you know if you have a fracture?” Shelby asked.
“I prefer not to know.” His leg was damned sore, but he was riding regardless.
“Stay out of hospitals,” Les muttered. His hatred of hospitals was legendary.
“I’ll do my best,” Austin said with a laugh. Although his chosen profession sometimes made that a difficult promise to keep.
“Check the leg out,” Shelby said. Ty nodded in agreement and Austin gave a noncommittal shrug. He’d have it checked out when he thought he needed to. Right now it was only slowing him down on the ground. He could still push weight down through it, as he would when he rode. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but what was new there?
*
“How’d it go?”
Whitney poured Kristen a tall glass of ice tea as soon as she walked in the kitchen door. She waited for her sister to take a drink before asking, “Did they understand?”
‘They’ being their parents. Less than an hour after arriving in Marietta, Kristen had walked the two blocks to her parents’ house to set the record straight about her life. They had been more stunned by her secret keeping than by her layoff. After she explained her logic—how she’d thought she could land something fast, but time had slipped by more quickly than she’d anticipated—her dad had kind of gotten it. Her mom was still working on the secret part. Working hard on it, in fact.
“She was embarrassed to get fired,” her father had said to her mother, as if Kristen wasn’t sitting right there. Embarrassed.
“Laid off, Dad.”
“Whatever.”
They’d talked for almost an hour, and after Kristen laid out the stark reality of her situation—lots of applications in lots of places, but no real responses—her parents had gone into protection mode, offering solutions, possible places of employment. But they weren’t happy and her mother kept studying her, as if half expecting her to say, “Surprise, just kidding. I never lied to you.”
“Well?” Whitney prompted.
“Did you understand?” Kristen asked as she stirred sugar into her tea. She needed a jolt of something. Sugar would have to do, since Whitney didn’t have any booze in the house.
“Of course not…until I cooled down and recalled that you’re competitive as hell and a perfectionist.”
“I am not.”
“Argumentative, too.”
“Funny.” Kristen leaned back in her chair and took in the cheery kitchen with its sunny yellow walls and cherry motifs on the white curtains and dish towels. Her twin loved color and retro style. Kristen had given her carte blanche to do whatever she wanted with the house they’d inherited from their grandmother. The result was a colorful, fun interior that made her feel like smiling. Most of the time. Right now she was dealing with the sting of parental disappointment—disappointment she could have prevented by being upfront.
“What did you think would have happened if you’d told us when you lost your job?”
Kristen shrugged. “I…thought you guys would be disappointed in me.”
“Well, it wasn’t like the earth would stop spinning.”
“It felt like it.” Stupid, but it had. She’d been hard on herself for a long, long time…and that was going to stop. This time she’d temper her self-discipline and drive with some self-care.
Whitney gave her head a shake. “Remember how I played T-ball and you didn’t?”
Kristen frowned at her, wondering what had caused her to dredge up that particular memory. “Because I had trouble hitting the ball—”
“And running.”
Kristen snorted. “So it took me a while to learn to bend my arms. Big deal.”
“Anyway,” Whitney continued, “I was tearing up the ball diamond, and you weren’t, and Mom used to say—”
“That’s okay. Kristy is good at school.”
“Exactly.”
Kristen let out a sigh. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to understand that that simple statement, spoken like a mantra during sporting events, had sown a seed. Kristy would be good at school, and her job, come hell or high water.
Whitney gave her a weary smile. “I know it wasn’t purposeful on the folks’ part—heaven help me, when I have a kid, I’ll probably screw him up every which way from Sunday—but I think celebrating our ‘differences’ might have just scarred us a little.”
“It wasn’t them. It was me. I let old habits run my life instead of taking a long hard look.”
Kristen reached for the ice tea pitcher and poured a refill. “I guess scars make us tough.”
Whitney turned in her chair, then held up her leg, showing the cleat marks in her calf from her days playing softball. “I’m real tough.”
“I’m tougher than I was.”
Whitney put her foot back on the floor. “Yeah? What made you tough? Getting fired?”
“Laid off. Yes, that, and serving drinks in a casino bar. And—”
She was about to say, in the most casual of ways, ‘traveling with Austin,’ when Whitney interrupted her. “You served drinks?”
“For six whole days, and yes, I should have told you. I’m telling you now.”
“How’d that go?”
“I wore a saloon girl costume.”
Whitney’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. “You wouldn’t wear Halloween costumes!”
“I made up for it. Believe me. It was so low cut I thought my boobs were going to pop out at any second. And I wore fishnet stockings that felt like cheese graters on my feet.”
“You were that desperate?”
“Yep.”
“Did you get decent tips?”
“I sucked at getting tips. And I got fired.”
Whitney laughed, but it wasn’t in any way hurtful. “I’m not surprised. No offense.”
“None taken.” Kristen gave a small snort of laughter. “I was not a good waitress. But I met Austin while I was working and he agreed to give me a ride home.” That sounded suitably casual. Just a matter of meeting a hometown guy and bumming a ride when she needed it. Or so she thought.
“Before or after you got fired.”
“After.”
“So you had to find him?”
“It wasn’t hard. He was at the events center. I walked in and asked him for a ride. He agreed.”
“So what’s going on with the two of you?”
Since she’d lied about losing her job, she had to take care not to push the truth too hard. “We’re friends.” That was true.
“Friends.”
“Yes.”
“If you say so…but that was one helluva lip-lock I witnessed.”
Kristen hadn’t realized that her sister had seen them kissing. After all, the windows were tinted. “Whit…”
“However…” her sister raised her hands as if surrendering “…it isn’t any of my business…unless you want to talk.”
“I don’t.” Not yet anyway. She wanted to keep her thoughts, her feelings, her memories close. At least until she got her rather jumbled emotions sorted ou
t into their neat little boxes again.
“Fine. Even though you promised.”
Kristen frowned at her twin. How could she adequately explain Austin and breaking free and her short sortie into the land of here-and-now with no thought to the future? She couldn’t. “Let’s get back to me disappointing the family.”
Whitney took a sip of her ice tea. “I’m done. However, I’m available if you ever want to talk.”
“Thank you.”
“And the little parlor is free if you want to set it up as your war room while you tackle the job market.”
“I appreciate that.” Her sister knew her well, although, oddly, she didn’t feel that keen about tackling the job market—a side effect of her trip that she hadn’t anticipated.
Whitney lifted her glass and gave a wry smile. “I thought you might.”
*
Austin couldn’t help around the Forty-Six as much as he wanted with a bad leg and sore shoulder, but he did what he was able to do, most of it on horseback. He rode fence and made rudimentary repairs prior to turning out the cattle, spending the better part of four days covering the property looking for winter damage. He told himself that the time alone on horseback was better than time alone on a beach. He loved the ocean, but understood that Ty was trying to get Shelby to take it easy, which was why he volunteered for fencing duty.
He thought about Kristen a lot. Wondered about her. Kept his distance. That was the agreement.
After the fences were finished, he and his brother moved the cattle while Shelby took Les to a medical appointment. When they got back, Austin had a message on his phone from an old rodeo friend turned educator, asking if he could speak at a small Oregon high school on his way to the Portland event.
“What kind of speaking?” Ty asked after Austin hung up.
“Like giving a speech to the high school kids about pursuing non-traditional careers.”
“Non-traditional.”
“That’s what Teller called it.”
Ty pulled two beers out of the fridge, then turned toward Austin, who’d just set his phone on the kitchen table. “You, who barely showed up for high school, are now going to address a high school? As a role model?”
“They don’t know I didn’t show up much.” Austin took the beer his brother handed him and gave a small salute.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No more ridiculous than Teller McKay settling down and becoming a school guidance counselor.”
“Point taken.”
Teller had been the most daring rough stock rider either of them had ever met up with. He rode bulls and broncs—often in the same rodeo—until his body broke down at the ripe old age of twenty-three. Then he’d gone to college and became a guidance counselor. Both Ty and Austin had expressed concern about what he might guide students to do career-wise—forget college…have you considered rodeo?—however, he seemed to have found his niche. In fact, he took his job very seriously and now he wanted Austin to speak on the matter of setting non-traditional goals, to inspire the kids who didn’t fit into neat academic boxes.
“What in the hell should I say to these kids?” The enormity of what he’d just agreed to was starting to reveal itself.
Ty shrugged. “You accepted the gig.”
“Have you ever tried to say no to Teller?”
“It isn’t like he’d hunt you down…” Ty’s voice trailed off and he and Austin exchanged pointed looks. “All right. He might.”
“I’ll probably have to make notecards.”
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
“How’d you remember what to say in your documentary?”
“I just said whatever and they edited. There wasn’t a script.”
“Huh.” Austin tapped the table with his fingers. If he could ride a bull, he could make a speech. Even if it scared the shit out of him.
“So you’re leaving early?”
“A day at most.”
“I’ll tell Les so that he can get your revised chore list ready.”
“Thanks,” Austin said dryly. “I’m sure it’ll help keep me limber.”
Chapter Twelve
“I saw Austin today.”
Kristen’s heart did a double beat as Whitney sauntered into her job-searching war room, but her voice sounded gratifyingly normal as she said, “I thought he’d be in Oregon by now.”
“He’s not. He and his sister-in-law stopped by FlintWorks.” Whitney held up her glass in a salute.
Kristen shrugged, hoping the stress of trying to look unconcerned wasn’t making her face pink—because the truth was that memories of Austin weren’t fading as quickly as she’d hoped. “Well, he’ll probably be leaving any day.”
“Probably.” Whitney was watching her closely and it was getting annoying.
“What?” Kristen asked in a flat voice.
Whitney made a frustrated gesture. “Nothing. I guess.”
Kristen dropped her head back. She could keep stonewalling, or she could come clean and stop the searching looks. “No big secret, Whit. Austin and I got together and now we’re going our separate ways.”
“It’s really none of my business.”
Kristen drilled her sister with a hard look. “No kidding.”
“But after the secret unemployment, I’m worried about you, okay?”
“Allowed.”
“So if you broke up, then that was a goodbye kiss?”
“We didn’t break up because we were never together. Well, we were, but with an understanding.”
“No-strings-attached sex?” Whitney sounded slightly incredulous.
“More than sex. Hard to explain. Let’s just say…we understand each other and what we needed from one another and what’s realistic for the future.”
“No-strings-attached sex.”
“We were more than fuck buddies.” The words blurted out and then Kristen snapped her mouth shut. Where had that come from?
She cleared her throat, but before she could speak, Whitney said, “It’s hard to explain. I get it.” She grimaced at the sticky-note-covered wall Kristen had created in the course of her job search. “You had your fun and now you’re back.”
“That does kind of sum it up.”
“You and Austin…what happens now?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this. We’re supposed to be friends.”
“Who are out of contact.”
“Probably for the best while we settle back into our niches.” Because giving up sex with Austin hadn’t been the easiest thing she’d ever done. And she missed telling him things that she probably wouldn’t tell anyone else. Sex partner. Confidante. Not a fuck buddy.
Whitney still had an odd look on her face, so Kristen changed the subject. “I have a job interview.”
A wide smile brightened her twin’s face. “In Montana?”
“In Reno, believe it or not. One of my contacts came through. I have an interview.” She explained the situation as she and Whitney went to the kitchen, where Whitney pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge. She poured two glasses without asking Kristen if she wanted one. Some things were simply understood.
“Sounds like he wants to hire you.” Indeed, her former colleague who’d gone to work for another company had sounded very interested in hiring her.
“I hope so. It would solve some problems.” Money, security. Things like that. And now that she knew what it was like to not have a job, she’d be double vigilant about what was going on with the company—as she should have been before. The odd thing was that she didn’t feel like dancing in the streets at the prospect of going back to the place she’d called home for a number of years. She loved Reno, she wanted a job, so what was the deal?
“How long do you think this process will take? Before you know?”
“No telling.” That was the hell of it. “It depends on how I stack up against the other candidates. What my references say about me. A lot of things play into it.”
&nbs
p; “Want to wait tables?”
“Funny. Ha. Ha.”
Whitney sipped her wine, watching Kristen over the rim of her glass. “No. I don’t mean it as a joke. We need a sub at FlintWorks. Just until our college girl, Macy, arrives in two weeks. You’d earn a little cash, and it would keep you busy.”
“You’re serious? Knowing my history? Six days waiting tables, then fired?”
“If it doesn’t work out—”
Kristen’s eyes went wide. “What? You’d fire me?”
Whitney shrugged. “I’d pretty much have to.”
Kristen gave a sniff. “Well, I wouldn’t mind the cash.” And she wasn’t a total newb at serving drinks…plus, she’d be fully clothed.
“You’d have to work the crappy shifts.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it.”
Whitney laughed. “Want to come down to FlintWorks and meet my boss tomorrow?”
Kristen pretended to consider for a moment, even though she’d already made up her mind. She could conduct her job search around FlintWorks shifts. It would do her good to get out. More than that, she wanted to get out, which was very out of character. Her time with Austin honestly had done her some good. That was the part of their relationship that she was going to focus on…not the twinges of regret about never having sex with him again. Never laughing about stupid stuff in the wee hours of the morning.
“Kris?”
Her attention snapped back to her twin. “Yes. Definitely. I’m all about meeting your boss.”
“Just don’t embarrass me.”
“What would it feel like to have your twin embarrass you?” Kristen asked.
Whitney peeled a sticky note with a phone number off the clipboard sitting on the counter between them and stuck it onto Kristen’s forehead. “No. Idea.”
*
Waiting tables at FlintWorks was very different than serving drinks at the Silver Bow. For one thing, her body was fully covered. When Kristen looked down, she saw the bright blue FlintWorks staff shirt, rather than her breasts threatening to escape lace-edged red satin. And she wore running shoes instead of fishnets and bootie shoes. Her feet were happy. She was happy.
