Being outside helped. The cool, fresh air calmed me more quickly and completely than popping a couple of Xanax would have. I concentrated on sucking in deep breaths as we bounced down the porch steps instead of wondering why Chance’s truck was freshly washed and possibly waxed. Like him, I’d rarely seen it not caked in mud or streaked with rain spots. I’d forgotten what it looked like without all of Red Mountain stuck to it.
“You washed your truck.” I kept my voice level as Chance’s hand went to the small of my back.
He led me around to the passenger side. “Yeah, it had become more mud than metal, so I ran it through the car wash in town.”
When Chance swung open the creaky old door for me, even the inside was clean . . . and almost fresh smelling. Not quite, because once soil and manure and grass had worked their way into a truck’s interior, no amount of scrubbing or air freshener could leech it out, but it smelled less offensive than more so, which was a state Chance’s old Ford hadn’t been in since I’d known it.
“I thought you said that’s what a rain storm was for. Growing the crops, raising the rivers, and washing your truck.” I crawled inside tentatively, feeling like I’d found myself in another world where Chance Armstrong’s truck’s dashboard wasn’t crusted with an inch of dust.
“Yeah, well, that’s also what car washes are for so . . . yeah.” Seeming suddenly nervous, Chance made sure I was all the way inside before shutting the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.
Great. That so-called forgotten kiss was sitting heavily between us. He was nervous. I was nervous. We were going out to dance and laugh and have a good time. Alone. If that weren’t a recipe for disaster, I didn’t know what was.
When Chance hopped into the truck, he fired up the engine and pulled out of the driveway. He’d made it halfway down the long stretch of road leading away from the ranch before he seemed able to look at me. Even then, it was only from the corner of his eyes. “You look really nice tonight.” His voice filled the cab like his scent had.
I rolled down my window a bit to clear the air and my head. “These are the same kinds of clothes I wear every day.” I realized, too late, that I’d just snubbed a compliment he’d given me.
I was about to apologize and work on removing the stick from my ass when Chance lifted a shoulder. “You look really nice every day. I just don’t get the chance to tell you that every day.”
I glanced at him. He still drove his truck with one arm hung lazily over the steering wheel, the other propped out the open window. I’d spent as much, if not more, time in Chance’s truck as I had in my own car in Pullman. His fabric seats had started to rip apart at the seams, and the Ford emblem was wearing off the steering wheel. The doors were creaky, the engine was loud, and it might have been the least comfortable ride to ever me put to the test . . . but I loved his truck. I loved watching Chance drive it. I loved sticking my feet out of the window and letting the air cut through my toes, and I loved the laughs and stories we’d told each other inside the cab.
When we reached the highway with still nothing but awkward silence between us, I cleared my throat. “So . . . how was your day?”
And that was the reason one shouldn’t try to break an awkward silence unless they had something to say that wouldn’t make things even more awkward. I saw the amusement in Chance’s eyes.
“Why great, honey, thanks for asking. How was your day?”
Normally I would have shoved his arm or tried to wipe the smile off his face, but I knew better than to touch him right then. Not in the close confines of a cab saturated with memories and the smell of his earthy aftershave. “My day was spent chasing a wolf, cleaning up after a wolf, feeding a wolf, and pretty much catering to a wolf’s every whim and want. Somewhere in the midst of that, I managed to squeeze in a shower and a phone call to one of my friends in Washington.”
Chance stopped at the first stoplight that announced we’d just passed into the city limits. This was my first trip into town since I’d arrived, and I felt like a kid with her face up against a window, positively amazed by every light and building. Jackson Hole had changed some since I’d left but not much. Some things could change without changing at the heart of what they were, and the heart of Jackson Hole could never be changed. It was a place determined to stay as wild as civilized culture would allow, and that charm attracted millions of visitors every year.
“My day went about the same, except exchange the wolf part for cattle. So if your day was like mine, we’re both in need of tonight.” Chance’s voice indicated nothing that wasn’t innocent, but my mind went a different direction.
“We’re both in need of tonight?” I was afraid to look at him in case he could read in my eyes what was playing out in my mind.
“Yeah, you know, a night off. A chance to do something we want to instead of what we have to.” Chance checked the intersection before turning left at the green light.
Of course that was what he meant. It was me and my warped mind that had run to an inappropriate place. “Yeah, tell me about it.” I leaned my head against the window.
“However, I didn’t talk to a friend on the phone today, so you technically have more right than I do to a night off.” Chance glanced at me for a moment before looking back at the road. “Have you thought about what you’ll do after . . .” His forehead wrinkled as he searched for the best way to put it. “After the funeral?”
Talking about a living person’s funeral as though it was in the near future was strange, but we both knew it was. John wasn’t going to get better. No miraculous recovery was in his future. We’d all be standing around a freshly dug grave with clasped hands and red-rimmed eyes sooner than we’d like to consider.
“Um, no, not really.” I shifted in the seat. “I’m done with school, so there’s nothing tying me to Pullman or Washington, or anywhere really, but that’s where my apartment is, so no matter what, I have to go back for a while.”
The light in front of us was green, but Chance slowed down and checked the intersection again before continuing through it. He’d always been a safe driver, but that was taking safe to a whole other level.
“Where will you go after, do you think?” he asked.
I’d given that so much thought during vet school. I’d even had a map on my wall with pushpins stuck into all of the cities and places I could see myself in. The United States was literally so covered in pushpins it looked more like a weird piece of art than a map. The only bare patch on the map was the whole state of Wyoming and the area around it. I hadn’t consciously decided to avoid this place from my past when I’d been pushing pins into cities like Santa Cruz or Scottsdale or Shreveport, but it hit me now that, contrary to what I’d let myself believe for seven years, I loved this place. Why had I let one man scare me away, and more importantly, would I let my feelings for a different man keep me away for another seven?
“I’m not sure where I’ll go after all of this.” I clasped my hands in my lap and tried not to think too far into the future. Right now, one day at a time was a challenge to get through.
“You could come here,” Chance said, no hesitation in his voice.
“I could,” I said slowly.
“Large animal vets from around the country could all up and move here, and there still wouldn’t be enough of you to keep up with the demand. Red Mountain alone could keep a couple of vets busy full time.”
I nodded, knowing firsthand how much a full time vet, or five, were needed at Red Mountain. I’d been busy immunizing, diagnosing, and medicating since I arrived. “Don’t I know it.”
“So you’ll think about it?” Chance’s voice gave away his excitement. “I don’t know what a starting out vet makes, but I’ll pay you double.”
A rush of air blew out of my nose. “Double? Come on, Chance.”
“Triple?”
My head fell back against the headrest. “Thank you for the offer, and thank you for offering to pay me the salary of a neurosurgeon, but I didn’t g
et into this profession for the money. That will play a small, if any, role in my decision as to where to take a job.”
“Benefits too? A company car?”
I shoved his arm. “Stop it. I can’t be bought. A lesson you Armstrong men have yet to learn.”
Chance laughed, nearly coming to a full stop at a green-lighted intersection before crawling through it. “Fine. Name your price. If you can’t be bribed with money or other handouts, what currency will get your attention?”
That had an easy answer. “I just want to make animals better, and I want to ease their suffering in whatever way I can. I want to fix things that need someone to fix them.” I was enough in tune with my psyche to understand why I’d picked this career field, but I also knew my desire to fix and save animals wasn’t an attempt to compensate for being unable to save my mother . . . or fix Conn. My reason for going to school for seven years had had little to do with where I’d failed in the past and more to do with how I wanted to succeed in the future.
“Then it’s settled.” Chance thumped the steering wheel with his palm. “We’ve got plenty of animals at Red Mountain who need fixed, saved, or their suffering eased. You want the job, it’s yours. I’ll have the papers ready and waiting for you to sign tomorrow at breakfast.” Chance pushed at my leg, winking. “You know, no pressure.”
I shook my head. Of course the first job I’d be offered would be at the very place I’d been hell-bent on escaping. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, good.” Chance smiled as if I’d already agreed. “Besides, it’s not like you’d have the Conn situation to deal with like last time. I mean, it seems like you’re doing good with that whole thing. Right?”
I felt him watching me while the truck idled at a red light. The answer to his question was one thing, but the reality was a bit more complicated. “Yeah. Right.” I nodded a few times to try to convince myself too. “It’s worked because I’ve been avoiding him and he’s been avoiding me, but you guys are family—brothers. I can’t think avoiding Conn is a realistic long-term option. If I really were to come work at Red Mountain, one of those days, he and I would have to face off and get our shit figured out. That’s not a day I’m looking forward to.”
We were in the main part of the city, which meant a stoplight at almost every block, and the speed limit had crept way down. We could have jogged faster to wherever we were going.
“When and if that day happens, I’ve got your back.” Chance checked the intersection before looking at me. “So you can say whatever you need to say and do whatever you need to do without worrying about Conn’s retaliation.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’ll be there to protect you in whatever way you need protecting.”
It might have been what he’d said or the way he’d said it, but something about the last few seconds made me look out my window again. I was afraid of the way his words made me feel. They scared me—not because I doubted if he meant them, but because I knew how much he did. However, I wasn’t sure if he’d offered to protect me because he still thought of me as his best friend and younger sister-type or because he was warring with the same feelings for me I was for him.
“I forgot to mention that if you do decide to take the job”—he nudged my arm—“we could build you a little place on the property like mine. You wouldn’t have to worry about finding a place and paying the insane real estate prices—plus you’d have a nice commute every morning.”
I twisted in my seat. “Like your place?” I wondered if I’d misheard or he’d misspoken.
“Yeah, like mine. Or nothing like mine—it doesn’t matter. My point was that we could gift a chunk of land to you so you could build a place on it. You’d have a tough time finding a better location. Or a better price.”
A lot was going on in those few sentences, but I still latched on to one part of it. “You have your own place?”
His forehead creased. “Well, yeah. What did you think? I was still living with my dad?”
Actually, I hadn’t really thought about it. I’d been too busy trying (and mostly failing) not to think about Chance and the way I’d kissed him back. “And I’m just hearing about this now why?”
“I thought you knew.” After crawling through one last intersection, Chance pulled into an empty spot on the side of the road.
“How would I have known? You didn’t say anything about it. You never mentioned this ‘little place of yours.’ You never invited me to see it with my own two eyes so I could believe it.”
Chance’s arm extended across the bench, his fingers just grazing my shoulder, as he went from looking out the back window to the front window as he parallel parked the truck. In the middle of that, his gaze shifted to me. “I’m having you over for dinner so you can see it and believe it. Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. I’m cooking.”
“Tomorrow night doesn’t give you much time to get this make-believe home built and decorated,” I teased as he turned off the ignition.
“I just built an acre-large enclosure in under twenty-four hours. I think I can manage a house in the same amount of time. So you’ll come? I don’t know what I’m making yet, but I promise it’ll be edible and a prime example of my mediocrity in the kitchen.”
The thought of Chance even knowing how to turn on the stove made me laugh out loud, so watching him cook was an opportunity not to be missed. “But what about the family dinners? I know John looks forward to them, and with things so close, you know, to the end . . .”
Chance hung his arm over the steering wheel and shook his head. “We’ve been present for every breakfast, dinner, and most lunches since you arrived. I know my dad enjoys them, and that’s good for everyone, but . . . I don’t know about you, but I need a night away from that table.” Chance exhaled, a flash of guilt shadowing his face. “I don’t know how many more times I can hold my breath when he takes a bite of that pureed crap and wonder if a piece in it didn’t get pureed enough and will choke him to death. I don’t know how many more times I can have Faye look at me like I’ve already buried my father. I don’t know how many more stories I can tell with fake enthusiasm and overdone laughter. Sometimes all I want to do is avoid it all like Conn.” He was staring out the windshield, but I knew he wasn’t seeing the same things I was. He was somewhere else. “Watching someone you care about die in front of you is hard. I’m not sure how much longer I can do it and keep pretending that one of these mornings, pureed peas and thickened coffee won’t be at the breakfast table.”
I grabbed Chance’s hand. “When that day comes?” I turned his face until he was looking at me. “I’ve got your back.”
For the shortest moment, he looked as if he might cry, but that shadow vanished behind a slow-creeping smile. “You about ready to have some fun? The old-school way we used to have fun?”
I reached for the door handle. “So ready.”
Chance and I crawled out of the cab at the same time. He came around to meet me on the sidewalk and lead me down it.
“Where are we going, by the way?” I asked, trying to take his elbow as naturally as I had when we were younger. As much as the motion felt the same, it felt different too.
“Any guesses?”
A few places ran through my head, but they were behind us, not in the direction he was steering me. “None.”
“Really? I thought it would have been obvious.”
When we came to a crosswalk, it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say Chance checked both ways three times before leading me into it. It was after nine on a Thursday night. The streets were dead.
“Obvious? Where would you be taking me for old-school fun that would be . . .” Then a hundred fond memories avalanched to the front of my mind, followed by the faintest sound of honky-tonk music coming from a few blocks up. “Wild Bill’s? You brought me back to Wild Bill’s, didn’t you?” I clapped his arm in excitement, thankful I hadn’t changed into something nicer.
Wild Bill’s had a dress code, but
it was a dress code unlike any other. Pretty much so long as you weren’t decked out head to toe in labeled, pretentious shit, you were waved through the door. It was the least classy place in Jackson Hole, and that was the reason Chance and I had made it our regular hangout. Well, that, and they weren’t sticklers about ID’ing customers.
“The very place. No trip to Jackson Hole or Red Mountain would be complete without a stopover at Wild Bill’s.”
“You know how I like me a highbrow place.”
“You and me both.” He escorted me through another intersection as if every parked car were a potential threat. “Have you made up your mind on that whole job thing yet?”
I rolled my eyes toward the sky. So many stars were out it made me want to just stop right there and not move until I’d either counted every last one or morning chased them all away. When I stayed silent, Chance nudged me. “No. Since a whole two minutes has elapsed since the job was offered, I haven’t had a chance to make up my mind.”
“Did I mention the retirement package?”
I let out a loud groan. When I tried to weave my arm out of his, he reached up with his other hand to hold mine and keep it from moving anywhere. “You’re such a rancher, Chance. You don’t know how to take no for an answer, especially if it’s something you need for your land or your livestock. A vet available twenty-four-seven included.”
His head tipped to the side. “Is that why you think I’m asking you to come work at Red Mountain? Because all I care about is the land and livestock?”
“Well, no, I don’t think that’s all that you care about. Just mostly.” I lightened my reply by flicking the rim of his hat, but from the look on his face, I’d hurt him.
“I’m not asking you to come work at the ranch just because of the animals. Although I know they’d be in the best of hands if you did.” When I stopped in place and faced him, eyebrow cocked, he continued. “The reason I want you to come work here is because I miss you. I’ve missed you for seven years, and now that you’re back, I can’t imagine what it will be like if you leave.”