I have to make sure he doesn’t try to get out of that little soiree. I’m really looking forward to meeting all these people who should have been in the waiting room while Sarah was being born. There’s something going on here in this town, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I don’t like the idea of my best friend being isolated without any friends to hang out with. A girl can go crazy without time to gab and gossip.
Luckily I do hair, so I get to do it on the job all day long. Being a lawyer makes that almost impossible for Andie. She breaks laws when she gabs. How lame is that, I’d like to know. Why she ever decided to be a lawyer is beyond me. She’s super smart and good at it, but damn, attorneys are no fun. She and I almost broke up over it. I’m so glad she met Mack and changed back to her old self.
I’m almost done drying my hair when there’s a knock at the door. I don’t have any makeup on, but that doesn’t stop me. I crack it open and smile, expecting to see Ian there insisting I let him use the facilities. I’m slightly disappointed when I find it’s Maeve, but try not to let it show in my expression.
“Morning, sweetie. Ready for some breakfast?” She smiles, moving her whole head of hair up a little in the process.
I smell toast and it makes my stomach growl. “Sure. In about ten minutes, is that okay?”
“Sure thing. Everything’s out on the table, just serve yourself.” She turns to leave.
I open the door more fully and put my whole head out. “Is Ian still sleeping?”
She hesitates at the top of the stairs. “Oh, no, he’s long gone.”
I can feel my face fall. “Long gone? As in how long? How gone?”
“He’s up for chores at four. I suppose he might be back for breakfast around eight, though.”
“Eight?” What in the hell am I going to do for two hours? “Okay. See you downstairs.” I start to go back into the bathroom, but Maeve’s voice stops me.
“You want me to take you somewhere?”
I stick my face out again. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll catch up with Ian later. I have things I can do.” Like watch my nail polish dry or something equally stimulating.
“I can call him, if you like. If you need him for anything.”
My face goes a little red. Did I sound that desperate to see him? God, I can’t let his mother know I want to get in his pants. Ack! “No, no, don’t bother. I’m fine, really, I am. I just need to finish with my hair and I’ll be down.”
The sound of a loud bang comes from down at the bottom of the stairs and a rush of cold air follows. It glides over my skin, making me want to draw back into the bathroom where it’s still steamy.
“Hey, Ma?!” Ian’s shouting loud enough to be heard from one corner of the house to the other. He must be standing in the foyer. “That city girl up yet?”
The smile takes over my face before I have time to school my features, and Maeve catches it. She smiles too as she shouts back down the stairs. “Yes, she’s all bright eyed and bushy-tailed, as a matter of fact!”
“Good! Tell her to get her buns down here. I got something to show her.”
“I guess you’re getting a tour of some sort,” she says to me in a low tone before leaving to go down the stairs.
“I’ll be done in ten minutes!” I yell.
“You’ve got one!” Ian says back. “I’m not waitin’!”
I slam the door and drop the hair dryer on the floor in my rush to make myself presentable. The plastic end of it goes flying off and hits the wall, but I ignore it. If I had a nickel for every time that happened in my life I’d no longer have to go to work on Tuesdays. My hair goes up into a knot with an elastic holding it in place and my makeup is limited to mascara and eyeliner.
Boom. Done. Who says I’m high-maintenance?
Wrapped in my short, silk robe, I sprint on tiptoes from the bathroom to my bedroom and throw on pink thong underwear, matching lacy bra, jeans from yesterday, and a college sweatshirt that has seen much better days. Since I spent so much time on the ground yesterday, I figure I’d better be prepared for more of the same today, especially when Ian’s going to be my tour guide.
I wonder what it is he wants to show me. I hope it’s him naked. I’m totally ready to melt some snow. I’ll show him to give me sneak-attack orgasmic foot rubs. He has no idea who he’s messing with.
My new boots slide on with a whisper and I’m ready to go. I don’t know how serious he was about that one minute, but I don’t want to chance missing out on whatever this is. I grab my purse and throw it over my shoulder as I run out of the room.
Dashing down the stairs, I stop at the bottom, realizing as I look at the coat hooks next to me that my leather bomber is out in the bed of the truck and covered in amniotic fluid.
The front door opens and Ian sticks his head inside the house. “Well, come on, I don’t have all day.”
“I don’t have a jacket. Andie got her goo all over mine yesterday.”
He pushes the door open and steps in far enough to grab a big camouflage jacket off a hook. “Wear this one.” Tossing it at me, he doesn’t even wait for me to respond. He’s out the door and gone, leaving behind some melting snow on the floor and a whole bunch of seriously cold air. My nipples turn into pebbles and not for the good reason. I hope they don’t break off when I get outside.
I hold the coat out in front of me and speak loud enough to be heard through the closed door. “This thing is fugly. Whose is it?”
“It’s mine,” he says from the porch. “Come on! You’re going to miss it!”
I throw my arm through one of the holes and grab the door, hurrying to catch up to him. The little high school girl in me is thrilled to be wearing Ian’s coat. It’s almost as good as a letterman’s jacket. Hello, Grease throwback! I could totally do Sandy, and Ian wouldn’t make a bad Danny now that I think about it.
“Whooo!” I yell, as the air is stolen from my lungs by the cold. Visions of Ian and me doing a musical together vanish from my brain. I’m suddenly stuck in place. I have never felt anything so awful in my entire life. My nostril hairs are now frozen thorns inside my nose.
“Get your jacket on, fool,” he says, halfway across the yard walking backwards. “It’s below zero out here.”
“Ho … leeee …. sheeee …. it! It is cold out here, mother fudger!” I jam my other arm into the jacket and gather it around me, wrapping it as tight as I can. Thankfully it’s way too big, so my hands are out of the cold and stuck up in the sleeves, and there’s material over my neck and down to my knees. Still, I’m shivering. I’m afraid my hair is still kind of wet. Is this how hypothermia starts? I hope not.
I reach the truck he’s standing next to and peek out from between the folds of cloth. “Where … are … we … going?” My teeth are chattering.
He reaches down and pushes my hands apart. I protest until I realize he’s looking for my zipper.
“We’re going to look at something I think you’ll like, if you can ever get your butt in the truck.”
“It’s not even six in the morning yet, Ian. And you gave me no notice at all.”
“High maintenance,” he says, shaking his head as he zips up my zipper. He reaches into an outside pocket of the jacket and pulls out a lump of black leather. “Put these on.”
I’ve never been so happy to see a butt-ugly pair of gloves in my life. I can already feel the warmth they’re going to bring to my aching fingers.
I drop one trying to get it on too fast, and we both bend over at the same time to get it. Our heads knock into each other like two coconuts, and I fall backwards trying to escape the pain.
“What in the sam hill …” Ian stands there holding his head, staring at me.
I lie on the ground, looking up at him as I hold my forehead. “Ow. Headache.”
“You have got to be the least coordinated person I have ever met,” he says, holding out a hand.
I roll over onto my side and get up on my hands and knees. “Go away, I don’t need your help.” Wh
en I finally stand, I spin around to stare him down.
He jumps with fright and then looks guilty, like I caught him at something. He stares at the ground, his face a little pinker than before.
My hands go to my hips and I use the opportunity to pull my pants up a little. It’s possible I just gave him a plumber-crack flash in my efforts to stand. Oops. Good thing I have my cute thong on and not my granny panties. “Listen, Ian … if you and I are going to get along, you’re going to have to stop insulting me.”
“Insulting you?”
“Yes. You’ve called me high maintenance and klutzy. It’s not nice to say that to girls. Didn’t your mother teach you to be nice?”
“I suppose she did.” He pushes his lips together and nods once.
“Good. So make your mother happy. Be a nice boy.” I pat him on the cheek a couple times, maybe harder than I should, but he needs a little wakeup call. “Now be a gentleman and get my door for me.”
He looks like he’s about to say something smart back at me, but instead, he moves to the side and opens the passenger door of the big black truck we’re standing next to. “Can I give you a hand?” he asks, holding out a gloved palm.
“Thank you,” I say, grinning. I’m so happy he’s behaving himself. Maybe he really does want to get along with me.
“You have a nice smile, you know that?” he asks. He’s staring at me. “You’ve got a dimple right there in your cheek.” His other hand reaches up and pokes me in the face. Firmly. Then he smiles.
I grit my teeth together to keep from saying something I’ll regret. He is totally baiting me right now, waiting for me to fight back, which is exactly why I’m not going to do that.
Today, the tables will be turning and not on me. Ian will be getting a taste of his own medicine if it’s the last thing I accomplish before I leave. I hope it doesn’t take me the whole vacation to do it, though. I’m really looking forward to seeing it happen.
Chapter Sixteen
“SO WHAT ARE WE GOING to see?” I ask, once we’re both settled in the cab of the truck with my purse on the floorboard at my feet.
“Just you wait and see,” he says, shifting the truck into drive.
I had expected him to go reverse out of the driveway, but instead, he leaves off the back of the property. He’s using a tiny shifter instead of the larger, regular one.
“What’s that one for?” I ask, pointing to the smaller thing.
“Four-wheel drive. We’re going off-road.”
“Is that safe?” A whisper of fear runs through my body.
He glances and me and wiggles his eyebrows. “Probably not.”
Warmth rushes into my heart. I don’t doubt for a second that I’m perfectly okay with Ian. I stare out the side window for a moment to get my girly feelings under control. I can’t let him know he affects me so easily. Resting my nose on the material of his jacket, I breathe the smell in. It’s so Ian. Delish.
“What are you thinking up there in that bean of yours?” he asks.
“What bean?” I shift my gaze to the non-road in front of us. There are dirty tracks leading away from the house, going up towards the mountains that we’re at the base of. I hope we don’t fall off anything steep. How good are four-wheel drive shifters with ice on the road? I can’t imagine it’s much better than a regular shifter.
“The Mexican jumping bean that’s your brain. Always jumping from one crazy thing to another.”
I glare at him. “First of all, the things I think are not crazy, they’re interesting. And second, I was thinking … that the weather is nice today.” No way am I going to tell him that he makes me feel safe. His head will blow up so big it’ll explode.
He laughs. “That’s a lie. You hate the snow.”
I sigh loudly, staring out at the bright white expanse in front of us. The snow never stops out here. I think it would drive me crazy to stare at it all day. “I’m trying to get over that.”
“Some people never do. I’m not much of a fan myself, to be honest.”
I look at him, suspicious. This statement seems very disloyal to the family for some reason. “How can you live here in Baker City and not be a fan of snow?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t pick this place. My family did. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“But you’re a grown man. You’re an architect. You could move anywhere. Why stay if you’re not happy?”
He loses his happy face. “It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is. You pack your bags, you say goodbye, you go. Done.”
He looks sideways at me for a second before going back to facing the road. “You make it sound easy, that’s for sure.”
“Tell me what’s so hard about it.”
“How about if I just show you?”
A smile turns up the corners of my mouth. “Hmmm … I’m intrigued.”
He grins, still facing out the window.
“Fine. I’m convinced. Show me what makes it so hard to leave here.”
“Almost there,” he says, turning the truck around a wide bend in the road. There’s a large tree in the way with loads of snow balanced on its green branches. I cringe a little as we drive by, wondering if it’s enough to qualify as an avalanche.
Our previous conversation in the gun store comes back to me and my happy feelings dissipate. Maybe this is a set-up so he can really get me good. “Are you going to show me a dead animal? Because if you do, I’ll never forgive you. I’m not kidding, Ian.”
He frowns, downshifting the truck to get it to go up a small hill with more power. “Now why would I do that?”
I shrug, feeling a little ashamed now that I even considered it. He might be a pain in the butt, but he’s never struck me as mean-spirited. I’m going to go ahead and forgive myself, though, because I’m running on two hours of sleep. No one can think straight without some good REM.
“You said you like to hunt,” I explain, hoping he won’t hold my near accusation against me.
“Yeah, but not for sport. I eat what I hunt, plain and simple.”
I don’t have enough Google research ammo to have the grocery store versus wild game argument with him right now, so I keep my mouth shut. Later I’ll explain in a way we can both understand. After I’ve had some REM and some time in front of the computer.
“Here we go,” he says, coming over the top of a hill and putting the truck into park. Stomping down on the emergency brake, he cracks open his door. “Just walk quiet and stay kind of behind me.”
I throw my purse strap across my body and follow him out of the truck. I have to wade through snow up past my knees to get to him.
He reaches a hand out behind him and I take it, thrilled that we’re actually holding hands. My inner high school girl nearly squeals with delight.
“See over there?” He points to a black blob out in a flat area of snow. There’s a lot of mud showing through the drifts of the frozen stuff, and for a couple seconds I think he’s brought me out here to show me a big rock. But then I realize the rock is moving.
“What is that …? Is that a cow?”
“Yep. She’s calving.”
“She’s what?” I move closer, peering at the event over his shoulder.
“She having a baby.”
Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention away. There are actually several cows standing around, some with small calves next to them and others just hanging out alone.
A loud moo in the center grabs my attention back. “She’s having a baby out here in the snow? In the mud?”
“Yep. Can’t stop Mother Nature.”
He starts to walk again.
“Are you sure we can go that close?” I’m holding onto both his hand and his arm with an iron grip. My purse bangs against my leg.
“Yep. She might need some help. She knows me, though. She’ll be fine.”
I start a whispered chant without really thinking about it. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god … this is crazy, this is crazy, this is c
razy …” I slip a few times, but Ian’s as solid as a brick house. I just hang onto him for dear life, and before I know it, we’re standing just feet away from her, and my butt is still dry. It’s some kind of Christmas miracle.
The cow is standing too.
“Doesn’t she want to lie down?” I ask. Her sides are heaving and she looks really uncomfortable.
“Yeah, just watch.”
About a minute later, the cow moves down to her knees and then flops down onto her side. Something is sticking out of her back end. Something … gooey. And big.
“Oh, my … that’s gross.”
“Shhhhh, just wait.”
I’m not sure how much time passes, but however long it is, I spend the entire period feeling sorry for that cow. Andie was right. The only way to do this whole birth thing is in a warm hospital bed with nurses and doctors standing all over the place with blankets. I can’t feel my toes or my fingers anymore.
The cow stands when I think it couldn’t be possible because she has this giant thing hanging out of the back end of her, and then this big blob just slides out. The baby falls right out onto the ground, a white sheet of something I-don’t-want-to-know-what covering its face. It lies there in the snow not moving.
“Come on, come on…” Ian sounds worried.
“What’s wrong?” I look from his face to the cow. The baby still isn’t doing anything. In fact, if I hadn’t seen it come out of the mother cow, I wouldn’t even know it was a cow. It looks like a giant, gooey alien on the ground.
“Quick!” he says in a loud whisper. “Get the towels out of the back seat!” He takes off towards the cow and leaves me standing there.
I want to ask him a thousand questions, but I don’t. Instead, I go as fast as I can through the snow drifts back to the truck. I only fall once trying to get inside.
There’s a stack of old-looking towels neatly folded on the seat. Grabbing them, I struggle to turn around and find Ian again.