Falling

by Jolene Perry

“Incredible,” I agree. The field we’re in looks like it stretches for miles—small pine trees dot the white snow, and I can’t imagine knowing your way around here as well as Jason seems to.

  “Want a snack?” He starts digging in the millions of pockets on his bright orange coat. “You have to be tired.”

  “Yeah, this is more of a workout than I guessed. I thought I’d just sit there and get cold, but I’m sweating under here.” I unzip my coat and turn off the music. “Thanks for this.”

  “No problem.” He pulls off his backpack and pours us both some coffee from his thermos. “You can’t be out in a place like this and not be part of the best side of it. The lodge is the work side. This is the play side.”

  I pull out my camera, and take a few shots of the snow-covered machines and few of Jason. He is the owner of the lodge. His shaggy beard has chunks of snow in it and his hair is a complete mess from his helmet, but he’s smiling and exudes happiness.

  I lie in the snow on my stomach and take pictures of Denali. I was corrected right away when I first moved up. No one up here calls the mountain Mt. McKinley—that’s a President. It’s clear blue skies and white everywhere I look. I hope there’s enough contrast for my pictures to turn out well.

  Jason tosses me a Snickers bar, and three machines appear over the edge of the hill. I wonder who is way out here in the middle of the week.

  “Oh. Great.” Jason smiles. “You’ll like these guys. Well, maybe.”

  “Jason!”

  “Hey!” Jason waves as they turn off machines. “James and Josh,” he says as he points. “How are you guys?”

  “Great. You two were easy to find.” Josh laughs.

  “Yeah, I guess we were.” Jason chuckles.

  Our tracks are the only two tracks in the snow, well, until they showed up. “Dana, this is James and Josh, my brothers, and that’s Rory, also kind of my brother.”

  “Kind of a brother?” I ask.

  He laughs. His dark hair is cut military short. He’s shorter than Jason and strong. “Yeah. I’m the cousin.”

  The guys banter a bit, and Jason laughs over and over. I had no idea he had so much good mood in him. And now I’m wondering how I’m going to keep them all straight.

  “So, you three are J names.” I glance between the brothers.

  “She’s smart, too.” Rory laughs.

  I throw him a look in response.

  “And you’re the hot girl everyone’s been talking about,” Josh says. He’s shaggy like Jason, but his hair is a startling color of red. He has the same laughing eyes though. Well. When Jason bothers to laugh.

  “Might be.” I nod.

  “Oh no, you definitely are.” Rory wags his brows.

  “Who’s talking?” Jason asks, scowling.

  “Everyone who’s been up here since your sister left, and Dana took her place.” Josh laughs.

  “Great.” Only it doesn’t sound like Jason thinks it’s great.

  “Hey man, if it brings in the business…” Rory smiles and wags his brows at me. Again.

  “I’m right here,” I say.

  “Sorry.” James glances my way. He too looks a lot like Jason—again, minus the shaggy beard. I find it funny he apologized since he’s the only one who hasn’t said anything.

  “So, how do you like hanging out with the Governor’s kids?” Rory asks.

  “What?” I’m confused.

  Jason’s shaking his head, red with embarrassment.

  “You don’t know?” Josh laughs. “Our dad is the Governor.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I stare at Jason.

  He shrugs. “Never came up.”

  Right.

  “Why did you say something?” I look at Rory.

  “Because I like to embarrass Jason.” He laughs and punches Jason on the shoulder. I like how they are together—friendly and relaxed.

  “So are there many more of you?” I ask.

  “What?” Jason turns to look at me.

  “Well, there’s you, Justine, Josh, James and kind of Rory—do I have that right?”

  “That’s all of us.” He looks around at his brothers smiling. “Rory’s our cousin, but he’s lived with us since…forever.”

  I’m curious as to how old they are, but I’m sure I wouldn’t remember if I asked. We all sit in silence for a few moments, taking each other in.

  “Why don’t you guys ride around? I’d like to take some pictures. You know, action shots.” I figure that’s enough to get them riding well.

  “Awesome!” Rory throws on his helmet, and is off in a shot.

  I realize as they begin riding in circles around me, throwing snow up in all directions that I’ve probably just started some sort of juvenile male game where they all make asses of themselves trying to outdo one another. That’s okay. It should at least make for some interesting pictures.

  I don’t need to move much because they’re really good and keep driving toward me. They’re up on one ski, they’re spinning their machines around in the deep snow and even on the small screen on the back of my camera I can tell I have some great shots. I can’t believe the dexterity it takes to ride like this.

  After twenty minutes of lying in the snow to take pictures, I’m ready to get on the machine. I want to get these on my computer. I put the headphones on again and carefully wrap up my camera. All American Rejects starts to play, and I not only like Jason, but I like his taste in music. I start back toward the lodge and Jason keeps close by me. I’m a lot more confident now, and it only takes us a fraction of the time to get back.

  I’m definitely not feeling as trapped out here as I used to be.

  JASON

  Holy Charlie’s Angels. I’m so Screwed.

  I’m not sure if introducing Dana to my brothers was worth the eyebrow wagging and dirty texting that followed, but she definitely won them over with her photos.

  I also don’t know if Dana’s talked to Craig since she got followed back from Palmer, and I don’t want to know. I’ve picked up the phone about a million times to call Taylor, but we’ll do the same run-around that we always do—Craig’s a great dad, and just needs to get this out of his system once in a while, and it’s worth it for when guilt takes over and he’s home all the time again.

  I’m not into it. Also, I don’t hate Dana the way I want to, and that puts me in a shitty position. At least football’s on today. England and Brazil, and more than halfway through the game without a goal. It’s intense enough that I give up trying to do anything with writing this afternoon.

  During the break before the final third, Dana steps into the living room wearing…almost nothing. Sports bra, and stretchy pants. It takes a great amount of effort to keep my eyes on the screen. She starts a series of crunches, and Boz’s jaw drops open.

  “Come on,” I say. “You’re ruining the football game.” I gesture to the TV trying to sound annoyed instead of turned on.

  “Shut up, Jason,” Boz says, his eyes focused on Dana. “How far down do the bruises go?”

  “Oh.” She rolls to the side, and pulls her pants down toward her hip. Either she’s not wearing panties, or she’s pulled them down with her pants, because she’s exposed her stomach almost down to her…. Holy shit. I have to shift like four times and do some deep breaths to keep everything in place.

  “And how high do your bruises go?” Boz’s concerned face is ridiculous.

  Dana catches on, letting go of her pants, which slide back up. She backhands Boz on the knee. “I thought you were worried about me!” She plays it off well, though, and isn’t offended.

  Probably she’s used to it.

  “I am worried about you.” Boz looks serious. “Let me find my mask of concern… It’s around here somewhere.” He sits up straight, closes his eyes and waves his hands in front of his face. When he opens his eyes, his face looks just like it did when he “noticed” her bruises. “How far down do the bruises go, Dana?” His voice is ridiculously fake. “Or how far up? Either is
okay with me.”

  “Aahhh!” I yell. “Enough! This is a place of business…”

  Dana widens her eyes, and looks around the room to the obvious fact that we’re the only ones here.

  “And,” I continue, trying to ignore her, “is there nowhere else you can be right now?”

  “If you have a yoga mat, I’ll leave you alone.” She cocks a brow as she shifts her weight to one leg. “But this is the only place with carpet instead of the creaky hardwood floors.”

  “I have one you can use,” Boz says. “But you could still work out here. I don’t mind you interrupting soccer.”

  “Okay, stop.” I hold my hand up. “Two things. First—” I glare at Dana. “You have corrupted Boz. I just, I mean just got him calling it football, football. And second—you do not want to use Boz’s yoga mat.” I’ve heard of Boz’s yoga mat adventures, and I wouldn’t touch the thing with a ten-foot pole.

  “Why not?” she asks.

  “You just don’t.” I hold in my smile.

  “It’s just a mat…”

  “He has sex on that mat.” I fold my arms, waiting for the shocked response she’s sure to show.

  Dana laughs. “Boz? You fit on a yoga mat?”

  “I can show ya if you want.” Boz’s eyebrows wag in a ridiculous show of invitation.

  “Never mind.” Dana starts to wander from the room. “I’ll go for a walk instead.”

  “Suit up and come with me,” I say. “I have a different idea.”

  Teaching Dana to shoot seemed like a good idea until her eyes widened as I pulled out the handguns.

  “Uh… I think you have the wrong girl, Jase. I didn’t grow up on that side of St. Louis.” And then she smirks at her clever joke.

  “I just…” What was I thinking? “When I feel out of control, this makes me feel in control.”

  “And why on earth do you feel out of control?”

  “Maybe more that I got call from my soon to be ex-wife this morning and need to blow something up.” I try to make it sound like I’m joking, but Cass did call this morning. Hinted at coming to pick up her things, which resulted in yet another conversation where I had to tell her that nothing here belongs to her, and her getting pissy, and me wondering what the hell happened between us that we can’t even try to be friends.

  Dana’s staring, and probably reading my desperate attempt at a joke way too well.

  A wave of something serious passes between us. “Okay,” she says. “Hook me up.”

  After a few minutes of picking out a gun for Dana to test out, my arms are around her, with our hands outstretched, as we hold the gun together, aiming loosely at the target. As I breathe in, the scent of her fills my head, and I’m wondering if I should have just let her do her workout in front of the TV instead of coming out here.

  So far I’ve breathed her in, and told her more than I want to about myself, and right now I’m enjoying standing this close to her way more than I should.

  The thing is, I don’t want to like Dana for a million different reasons. So maybe this is just a reaction to not being with a woman in… Well, a longer time than I want to admit—even to myself.

  “Good, now you’ve cocked the gun and you’re ready to fire.” This should help get my head on straight.

  “So, I just pull the trigger?” she asks.

  I need to focus on the gun and the target, and not on the girl next to me so I take my arms back, letting her hold the gun on her own. “Pull the trigger until you meet with some resistance, then slowly let out a breath, keep relaxed, and squeeze until it goes off.” She still hesitates. “Think kick ass thoughts. Think Charlie’s Angels or something.”

  She cracks a smile. “That I can do.” But as soon as the gun fires, she not only flinches but jerks her arms backwards.

  “Whoa…” I rest my hands on her upper arms, lowering them back down. “Stay relaxed, look forward to the kick-back. Look forward to the sound.” I’m going to feel really stupid for bringing her out here if she shoots me by accident.

  “Did I hit anything?” she asks, squinting at the target.

  “Just the snow.” I chuckle. “Let’s aim for something this time.” I slide my hands up her arms like an idiot, and rest my hands over hers. “When you look down the top of the gun there’s two small white dots close to you and one at the end, do you see those?”

  She nods and then shivers once.

  “Okay, you want those to line up and your target should be in the middle of the middle dot. Does that make sense?”

  “Okay. I’m relaxed and thinking badass thoughts.” She squeezes the trigger again, keeps her arms down when it fires, and I can tell by the look on her face that she’s hooked. “Check me out!”

  “That’s pretty good.” I smile as I step away. She hit the corner of the target. “You keep going, and I’m going to get set up for myself, okay?”

  “Okay.” She slowly gets back into the stance I showed her, definitely got a Charlie’s Angels thing going on, and I need to distract myself. Dana’s a million worlds away from me, and I’m in no position to start anything with anyone. On top of all that, there is absolutely no way she’s at all interested, and as far as I know, she’s still otherwise occupied. Which brings me full to circle to the many reasons I should not only not want to be involved, but should keep trying to hate her.

  I get loaded up, and ready. “Don’t accidentally shoot me. I don’t have health insurance.”

  “Got it.” She laughs, and finds her stance again.

  I need some serious focus time. After closing my eyes for a moment, I drop to one knee, and blast through the whole magazine, each hit landing somewhere near the center of the target. I snatch my other gun, and do the same, continuing to blow shots through the middle of the bull’s eye.

  “Wow.” Dana’s staring when I finish.

  I keep my eyes on the target, and off her.

  “I went through the FBI training academy. I wanted to keep my options open.” A few college friends and I went through on one of the sessions that the FBI occasionally does where they allow police forces to send people through. It was an incredible experience, but was enough to know that I never wanted to be in the FBI.

  “Why are you here?” She’s looking at me like most people do. Like I’m just wasting myself.

  “Because I want to be.” I slide in two magazines and put thirty more rounds into my targets.

  “Better?” she teases. At the same time, just like she recognized the look on my face the morning I burned my hand on the stove, I’m recognizing the look on her face, and she’s impressed.

  “Much better.” Though, I’m not sure if having Dana come with me out here was a good or a bad thing. “You’re more of an Alaskan girl than you thought you were.”

  “What?” She’s focused on her gun until she finds the right lever, and drops the empty magazine out.

  “The snowmachines, and then this.”

  “Maybe I’m just good at everything I do.” She winks, laughs, and slides another magazine in, just like I showed her. “Maybe I am secretly one of Charlie’s Angels.”

  She’s something.

  DANA

  Really, Just Beat the Crap Out of Me, It Would Probably Feel Better

  After three weekends, I have the routine down pretty well. People start checking in around lunchtime on Friday and others don’t arrive until near midnight. I’ve realized at this point that Jason doesn’t sleep more than a few hours all weekend and then simply makes up for it during the week.

  I spend a few extra minutes getting ready today, hoping to have fun again this weekend. Craig never made it out last week, and since the whole being-followed-from-Palmer thing, it’s been awkward between us. Not horrible. But awkward. And he said he was going to try and sneak up for a day this weekend, and I’m looking forward to it, even though we’ll be busy.

  I get to the bottom of the stairs and a gorgeous woman with the kind of height I’ve always envied comes in through the door. I know s
he’s just ridden out because she has her helmet in her hand, but she looks amazing. She’s built exactly like me but even taller and where my skin is pale, hers is tanned and beautiful. She has huge blue eyes and real blonde hair. No makeup and flawless skin. I hate feeling envy. Hate it. It doesn’t happen to me often.

  I give her my best smile. It’s the first time since I’ve gotten here that I don’t feel like the prettiest girl in the room, and I wish that I’d spent more time getting ready. Not that it would have helped much next to her.

  “Hi, I’m Dana.” I reach out my hand. “I’m helping Jason out for a while.”

  “Oh! Dana! I’m Craig’s wife, Taylor. It sounds like you’ve been through quite an ordeal. He filled me in on the story.” She smiles at me warmly, and I forget to breathe. “He’s unloading bags.”

  I’m in shock. This gorgeous woman is Craig’s wife? I’m speechless. Numb from the inside. And they’re here together? That seems like they’re fine, and not “rough.”

  “I don’t have my wires crossed, do I?” she asks.

  I must look confused.

  “No, no sorry. It just took me by surprise that’s all.” I pause. “I didn’t know you were coming up this weekend.” I try to use my work voice, but I’m shaking. How does she not notice?

  “Well, he got the weekend off last minute, the kids are out of school, and it isn’t often that we get to come out and play as a family.” She starts to hang up her helmet and gloves, taking her coat off to reveal the kind of lean body I already knew she had under there.

  “I bet.” I smile weakly, my head spinning and feeling like I might pass out.

  “Oh! Here they are!” She looks over her shoulder as their three kids come in. “This is Dickson, Nate, and Lisa.” They look to be about middle school age, but I could be wrong. I’m not around kids much. They’re all as ridiculously good-looking as their parents and smile politely as they take off their stuff. “We’re in the first cabin, if you have the key for us?” she asks.

  “Uh, sure. Let me grab that for you.” I swallow hard and walk into the kitchen in a daze. I cannot remember the last time I felt this way. I wonder if I’ve ever felt this way. Dirty. Used. Completely second-rate. And like a horrible, horrible, person.