The Family Gathering
The Family Gathering
Robyn Carr
#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHORSULLIVANS’ CROSSING: BOOK THREECan he overcome the past?Dakota Jones had a difficult upbringing but he escaped to the military as soon as he could. Now, after several tours of duty he has finally been discharged.Refusing to return home he arrives in Sullivan's Crossing where his brother Cal and sister Sierra have found a home. Nestled at the crossroads of the Colorado and Continental Divide Trails, the area attracts those looking for answers or direction or a new lease on life. Dakota will come to terms with his less-than-perfect family and will plant the roots he's never had.Readers love Robyn Carr:‘Lovely book from a lovely series’‘Robyn Carr reflects real life wonderfully’‘fascinating and heartwarming characters and a stunning setting’‘a must-read for fans of contemporary romance’
An exceptional storyteller, #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr beautifully captures the emotionally charged, complex dynamics that come with being part of any family. Readers will laugh and shed a few tears as they discover what it means to be loved, supported and accepted by the people who mean the most.
Having left the military, Dakota Jones is at a crossroads in his life. With his elder brother and youngest sister happily settled in Sullivan’s Crossing, he shows up hoping to clear his head before moving on to his next adventure. But, like every visitor to the Crossing, he’s immediately drawn to the down-to-earth people and the seemingly simple way of life.
Dakota is unprepared for how quickly things get complicated. As a newcomer, he is on everyone’s radar—especially the single women in town. While he enjoys the attention at first, he’s really only attracted to the one woman who isn’t interested. And spending quality time with his siblings is eye-opening. As he gets to know them, he also gets to know himself and what he truly wants.
When all the Jones siblings gather for a family wedding, the four adults are drawn together for the first time in a way they never were as children. As they struggle to accept each other, warts and all, the true nature and strength of their bond is tested. But all of them come to realize that your family are the people who see you for who you really are and love you anyway. And for Dakota, that truth allows him to find the home and family he’s always wanted.
Also available from ROBYN CARR (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
Sullivan’s Crossing
ANY DAY NOW
WHAT WE FIND
Thunder Point
WILDEST DREAMS
A NEW HOPE
ONE WISH
THE HOMECOMING
THE PROMISE
THE CHANCE
THE HERO
THE NEWCOMER
THE WANDERER
Virgin River
MY KIND OF CHRISTMAS
SUNRISE POINT
REDWOOD BEND
HIDDEN SUMMIT
BRING ME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
HARVEST MOON
WILD MAN CREEK
PROMISE CANYONn
MOONLIGHT ROAD
ANGEL’S PEAK
FORBIDDEN FALLS
PARADISE VALLEY
TEMPTATION RIDGE
SECOND CHANCE PASS
A VIRGIN RIVER CHRISTMAS
WHISPERING ROCK
SHELTER MOUNTAIN
VIRGIN RIVER
Grace Valley
DEEP IN THE VALLEY
JUST OVER THE MOUNTAIN
DOWN BY THE RIVER
Novels
THE SUMMER THAT MADE US
THE LIFE SHE WANTS
FOUR FRIENDS
A SUMMER IN SONOMA
NEVER TOO LATE
SWEPT AWAY (formerly titled RUNAWAY MISTRESS)
BLUE SKIES
THE WEDDING PARTY
THE HOUSE ON OLIVE STREET
The Family Gathering
Robyn Carr
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018
Copyright © Robyn Carr 2018
Robyn Carr asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9781474082051
For Dr. Kochy Tang
with grateful thanks for the tender loving care and special friendship.
Contents
Cover (#u529a0b44-f60b-51c1-b6a6-61d8af724c81)
Back Cover Text (#ua3ce6e5b-f66c-5ea4-aecc-fb6656451c94)
Booklist (#u691d54ca-db64-55c8-9974-6c541b9aea20)
Title Page (#uf5f752f4-ac5c-5820-84a0-fbf50acc51ef)
Copyright (#u67299163-e684-550f-ad8c-c9e6c1403833)
Dedication (#uac7172ae-20ba-5982-9ec2-123d50a5ad86)
Epigraph 1 (#u4ded102f-178a-564e-a940-867617a0070a)
Chapter 1 (#u76be1606-df9a-57c5-bb01-a2728dc5b79e)
Epigraph 2 (#ue2b78db0-1419-5e1c-b373-a22cb309d354)
Chapter 2 (#u7452d838-8814-58c9-abe9-21f8672f028c)
Epigraph 3 (#uf9fe5cff-d54d-52ed-a0c6-153865aa28a9)
Chapter 3 (#u3b422682-b380-5bf7-9985-9ecaf3fd75b0)
Epigraph 4 (#u3b94161a-5e1c-577c-b7c5-c676b51372cc)
Chapter 4 (#u0f0178a7-ab0f-5ae8-80ee-fe2892462c3b)
Epigraph 5 (#u1964dfa4-0a30-599a-93fd-793da298daef)
Chapter 5 (#u5e99dedd-e5c5-5f72-ac41-43c10cf59d29)
Epigraph 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
In our family, we don’t hide crazy...we put it
on the porch and give it a cocktail.
—ANONYMOUS
1 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
DAKOTA JONES PULLED right up to the barn that was now a house, and parked beside his brother’s truck. He left his duffel in the Jeep SUV and went to the door. He stood in indecision for a moment—they had a six-month-old baby. He knocked rather than ring the bell, just in case the child was sleeping. A few moments later, he knocked again. And a third time. Finally the door opened.
“Dakota!” Cal said with a grin. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by way of Australia. It’s a long story—”
“I can’t wait to hear what that’s about,” Cal said. “Want to come in or stand out there awhile longer?”
“I don’t want to wake the baby,” Dakota said.
“The baby is in Denver with Maggie. They’ll be back tonight.”
“That sounds like an interesting arrangement,” Dakota said.
“Like a tug-of-war, my friend. Something to drink?” Cal offered. “Food?”
“A cold beer would be nice.” He looked around. The place was beautiful, but that came as no surprise. Cal’s house with his first wife had been a showplace. Given the way the Jones siblings had grown up, something like a good, solid house that a person was proud to come home to would fill a need that had been neglected when they were kids. Cal put a beer in Dakota’s hand. “The place looks great,” Dakota said.
But Cal didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “What were you doing in Australia?”
“I’d never been there,” he said. “I wanted to walkabout. That’s when—”
Cal cut him off with a laugh. “I know what a walkabout is.” He tilted his beer toward Dakota in a toast. “I’ve never seen you with that much hair. On your face and everything.”
Dakota stroked his beard. “I could probably use a trim.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on before Maggie and Elizabeth get home.”
“Well, in Australia I visited one of the Rangers I served with years ago and together we checked in on another one. Then, with some input from them, I hit out on the trail for about a month, seeing some of the country, camping, fishing, practicing the identification and avoidance of snakes and crocodiles—”
“I meant, the Army! You’re out? I knew you weren’t happy there anymore. You said we’d talk about it someday.”
“I wasn’t sure where I’d end up but I was sure I’d get out here for a visit. With you and Sierra here and a new baby—I wanted to at least drop by.”
Cal sighed. “Dakota. The Army.”
“Well, I’m a little surprised I was in as long as I was. I never intended to make it a career. I wanted their offer of free travel and education.”
Cal just lifted one brow. Free travel? To a variety of war zones?
Dakota grinned. “I had a small disagreement with a colonel. We didn’t see things the same way. Apparently I was insubordinate. It was time to think about doing something new.”
“Were you honorably discharged?” Cal asked, pushing him.
Dakota shook his head. “But I wasn’t dishonorably discharged.”
He was simply discharged, but that said something. You had to screw up pretty bad to not get an honorable discharge.
“What’d you do?” Cal asked.
“I disagreed with his forward action and told him it would get people killed. Rangers—it could get Rangers killed. I had ten or a hundred times the experience he had but he was in competition with me or something because he was hell-bent to drive five of our best Rangers right into the known hotbed of ISIS training and it was going to get people dead. I think they plucked that idiot out of the motor pool and put him in charge of a unit. I overrode his orders and he threatened me with jail. I thought that it was probably time for a career change.”
“They sent you home?” Cal asked. “You must have done something even worse than disagree for them to send you home!”
Dakota squirmed. “I was acting in the best interest of my men.”
“What’d you do?” Dakota didn’t answer. “You hit him or something?”
“No, my guys wouldn’t let me do that,” he said. Then he hung his head briefly. “I let the air out of the tires until I could get in touch with another colonel I know who could try to intercede with the orders that would put us directly in harm’s way.”
“Jeeps?” Cal asked.
“No. MRAPs.”
“MRAPs?”
“Mine resistant assault protective vehicles. The big ones.”
“Those big mammoth desert beasts with tires taller than I am?” Cal asked. “How the hell do you let the air out of those?”
“With a .45,” he said softly. “Or M16.”
“You shot out the tires? How is it you’re not in jail?”
“I was. Good behavior,” he said. “And it was determined the colonel was incompetent and had done even worse things before. Cal, he was crazy. Homicidal. He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t a Ranger—he had very little combat experience. He was a joke. I wasn’t going to let him get any more people killed.”
They sat in heavy silence for a little while, each tilting their beer bottle a couple of times. Finally Dakota broke the silence.
“Listen, it happens in the military sometimes. They take a guy who just made rank and give him a unit to command and sometimes the fit is bad. A buddy of mine, a doctor, his boss had no experience in the medical corps. He was a pilot. And he was making decisions for a bunch of doctors and a hospital that were dangerous to the patients, but he wouldn’t compromise, he wouldn’t listen to reason, he wouldn’t ask for advice. According to my friend, people were left untreated, in pain, mishandled. A whole fleet of doctors mutinied and the colonel retaliated. That kind of thing doesn’t happen all that often—usually there’s at least one clear head in the game...” He took a breath. “They got my guy from the knitting battalion, I think. Jesus, I’ve worked for a few dipshits, but this one was exceptional.”
“But you got out. With three years to retirement.”
“Yeah, I have plenty of time for my next career move,” he said. Then he grinned. “I’m still a kid.”
“So you went walkabout,” Cal said with a laugh. “Proving you’re just like the rest of us?”
“You did it after Lynne’s death. And it worked. But why? That’s my question. Why do we wander? It was the wandering while we were growing up that I hated the most.”
* * *
Dakota’s parents thought of themselves as wanderers. Or hippies. Or new age thinkers, whatever. What they really were was a father who was schizophrenic, often delusional and paranoid, and a mother who was his keeper and protector. They took their four children with them as they roamed the country in a van and then later a school bus converted into an RV. They made regular stops at their grandparents’ farm in Iowa and finally lived there full-time when Dakota was twelve, Cal, the oldest, was sixteen and their two sisters, Sedona and Sierra, were fourteen and ten.
Cal was still patient and understanding with their parents, with the father who wouldn’t consider medication that would make him functional, or at least more functional. He was even tender with them. Sedona acted responsibly toward them in a kind but businesslike way, visiting regularly and making sure they weren’t in need or in trouble. Sierra, the baby of the family, was mostly confused by how they chose to live. But Dakota? He’d spent much of his childhood not going to school, taking his lessons in a bus from his mother. The whole family worked when there was work, mostly harvesting vegetables with other migrant workers. When they did settle in Iowa on his grandparents’ farm, he went to school full-time. He’d taken a lot of bullying in junior high and high school because his parents, Jed and Marissa, were so weird. Dakota was ashamed of them. They made no sense to him. Dakota was decisive and action-oriented and would have gotten old Jed on meds or kicked him out, but instead his mother coddled him, shielded him, let him have his way even though his way was crazy. So Dakota had been a loner. He’d had very few friends.
Dakota left the second he could, right after high school graduation when he was seventeen. He enlisted in the Army and had visited his parents about four times since. Each time he went back to that farm in Iowa they seemed more weird than the time before. He rarely called. They had apparently hardly noticed.
He also protected himself against anyone getting too close while he waited to see if he was going to become mentally ill, as well. At thirty-five, he was now pretty sure he was safe from that. And, after all this time, his independent and aloof behavior was accepted by his brother and sisters.
It was easy to remain unattached in the military. He had friends whose company he enjoyed but there were very few with whom he had really bonded and their bond was one of military brothers. He would join the guys for a few beers, as he was regularly included in social events—parties, outings to the lake, ski trips, whatever his group was doing—and he was called, You know, Dakota, the bachelor.
There were women, of course. Dakota loved women. He just wasn’t the type to make long-term commitments to anyone, especially girlfriends. Even if he was with a certain woman for a while, he wasn’t exactly coupled. Well, there was one, but it had been so brief, and had ended so tragically, it reminded him that it was better not to get too involved. He wasn’t the marrying kind. He was better off on his own. He was never lonely, never bored. The way he played it he didn’t have to explain where he came from, how he grew up, how bizarre his family was. In seventeen years in the Army he had never met a guy who grew up like him—essentially homeless, raised in a bus by a couple of wackos.
But recently, something had changed for him. It was slow. Subtle. Cal lost his wife and then, two years later, remarried. Maggie, a neurosurgeon of all things, was awesome. Now they had a baby, were a family. Cal had never shied from commitment, as if very confident he’d be a better family man than his father was. Their little sister had joined Cal in Timberlake and was also settling down. Sierra had hooked up with a firefighter, a fantastic guy. Connie, short for Conrad, was smart, physical, loyal, the kind of guy he admired. Dakota knew in five minutes that Connie had integrity. And watching the way Sierra was with him almost made Dakota long for something like that. Sedona had been married since right after college, had a couple of kids, was by all accounts living a normal life. So far none of them had decided to live in a bus like their parents had. Little by little it had begun to tease his mind that possibly he could have a normal adult life. Maybe he could actually have friends and family and not have to protect himself from being himself.
But he was damn sure taking it slow.
* * *
Cal called everyone. Sierra and Connie came straight over with their golden retriever, Molly. Maggie’s father, Sully, came after he had closed up the general store at his campground, Sullivan’s Crossing. Maggie arrived with the baby and walked into a party atmosphere.
Since Dakota’s arrival was unannounced and Cal wasn’t prepared, everyone brought something to the table. Sierra had a platter of chicken breasts swimming in barbecue sauce and a big seven-layer salad, Connie brought beer and some of the cold green tea Sierra favored. Sully brought some broccoli sealed in a foil with garlic, olive oil, onions, mushrooms and pepperoncinis. They put it on the grill with the chicken. Cal supplied baked potatoes.
“How long are you staying?” Sierra wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” Dakota said. “I’ve been using the last few months to explore.”
“Unfortunately, ain’t nothin’ to explore around here,” Sully said.
“Oh, Cody,” Sierra said, using his nickname from when they were kids. “Don’t listen to Sully! I think I got my brain back hiking around here. Cal did the CDT for a month.”
Dakota raised his eyebrows. “Did I know that?” he asked.
“I can’t remember. But yes, I took the Continental Divide Trail north from Sully’s place. I walked and camped for about two and a half weeks, then turned around and came back.”
“Because I was here,” Maggie said with a smile and lift of her chin. “And he wanted me. Bad.”
“I wish I could do that,” Connie said. “Longest I’ve been out there is four days. Sierra, we gotta do that. Go out there for a couple of months.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m so addicted to daily showers...”
“I have to decide where I’m going to stop exploring,” Dakota said.
“As in, settle down?” Cal asked.
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he said. “After the Army? I might not have the temperament for staying in one place.”
“Are you going to hang around at least awhile?” Sierra asked hopefully.
“You bet,” he said. “I’ll be around awhile. Maybe I can help out.”
“You can babysit,” Cal said.
“Now, that’s one thing I’m pretty sure I can’t do,” Dakota said. “I’m good with kids, but it’s best if they’re college graduates.”
There was a round of moans and laughter.
By nine o’clock Sully had gone back to the Crossing, Maggie and Elizabeth had gone to bed and it was only Sierra, Connie, Cal and Dakota. The men were having one more beer. Sierra, in recovery, a year and a half sober, was drinking her green tea.
“I’ll have to go to two meetings tomorrow after spending the night with you big drinkers,” she said.
Cal laughed at her. “Three of us had eight beers in six hours. As celebrations go, it was pretty tame.”
“If it bothers you...” Dakota began.
“It doesn’t,” she said. “But I’m going to feel a lot better than you tomorrow morning.”
“Since you’re going to feel so good tomorrow, want to take me out on the trail?” Dakota asked. Molly rose from her sleeping spot, shook herself awake and leaned against Dakota’s thigh. Waiting. “Does this one go hiking?”
“Sometimes I take Molly and Beau, Sully’s lab. But I can only stay out there a couple of hours at most if they’re with me.” She stood. “I’ll come for you at 8:20. Come on, Connie. Time to put the baby to bed.”
Dakota and Cal snapped to attention.
“Molly,” she said. “I meant Molly.”
“Shew,” Dakota said. “If there was another one, I was going to run for my life!”
“There’s just Elizabeth,” Sierra said. “And they won’t commit to whether they’ll add to the family. And I’m definitely not in the game.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Duh. Our crazy father and his genetic code, for one thing. Come on, Connie. It’s past our bedtime.”
Dakota looked at his watch. “This is a real lively crowd,” he said, standing to say good-night. He kissed his sister’s cheek. “See you in the morning. By the way, you’re looking good.”
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “So are you. A little shaggy, but good.”
Dakota flashed her a grin. Behind his dark beard, it was dazzling.
Sierra combed her fingers along his cheeks, through his beard. “Little gray coming in here, Cody.”
“I earned it,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning.”
* * *
In the seventeen years since Dakota left his family behind for the Army, the time he spent with them was infrequent and brief. Cal and Sedona tried to keep up with him. He visited them for important events—Cal’s wedding to Lynne, then his wedding to Maggie. When Sedona’s children were born, he checked in. He never stayed long. Sierra, who was so special to him, had been a wild card until she found sobriety. He had visited for a couple of days at a time, that’s all. He didn’t want to get too attached to them.
This time was different. The second, third and fourth days came and went. He hiked with Sierra, then Cal, then just the dogs. He dug out Sully’s garden for spring planting. They repaired the grills and picnic tables and talked all the while. Sully was very cool for an old guy. He admitted he came home from Vietnam with some PTSD and asked how Dakota had fared in that regard. “Oh, I’ve got PTSD all right,” Dakota said. “Probably more from my personal life than my military experience.”
“Then aren’t you one of the lucky ones,” Sully said.
Dakota cleaned out the gutters around Sully’s house and store and threw the balls for the dogs. Then he had to bathe the dogs because it had rained and they got into the freshly turned soil and compost in the garden. While hanging out at the Crossing he met Tom Canaday, the guy who helped Cal renovate the barn that was now his stunning house. Tom was Sully’s good friend and part-time handyman, a single dad with two kids in college and two still in high school. When Tom told him all the jobs he’d had while raising his kids, Dakota was inspired.
Maybe it wasn’t necessary for him to make big, permanent decisions about what to do for work or where to settle. Maybe he could coast for a little while. “Think a guy like me could work on a road crew?” he asked Tom. “Or haul trash?”
Tom laughed. “A vet who served? Who has ties to the town? Hell, Dakota, anyone would hire you. I’ll give you a recommendation. You just have to decide what you want to do. I’ve been working for the county for almost twenty years.”
“I should probably pick up trash,” he said. “Penance for all my misdeeds.”
“Misdeeds?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Cal said you were a decorated soldier.”
“I just about undecorated myself before it was all over,” he said. He scratched his beard. “I guess I should get a haircut. Do I need to lose the beard?”
Tom laughed. “This is Colorado, man. You look homegrown.”
“Good. I’ve grown kind of attached.” He grinned. “So to speak.”
“I’ll find out what they’re hiring for and get you an application.”
When he went home from Sully’s after a productive day, he found Cal in his home office, just hanging up the phone.
“So, you’re still here,” Cal said. “It’s been five days. I think that’s a record.”
“Am I getting underfoot?” Dakota asked.
“I’ve hardly noticed you,” he said. “You feeling underfoot?”
Dakota shook his head, leaning against the door frame.
“Baby bothering you?” Cal asked.
“The baby is kind of awesome,” Dakota said. “I’m not babysitting, however.”
Cal laughed. “We managed before you arrived, we’ll continue to manage.”
“So, what if I hung around?” he asked.
“What if?” Cal returned.
“Would that be weird for you?”
“Nah. I actually like you. Sort of.” Then he sobered. “You’re welcome here, Dakota. And thanks for helping Sully. It’s appreciated.”
“Everyone was helping him get the grounds ready, but I think now it’s going to rain. For days.”
“That’s what I hear,” Cal said. “Every March the rain comes, every March Sully gets the campground ready for summer. Well, spring and summer. We all help out. It wasn’t expected of you, so thanks. Now what?”
“Well,” he said, scratching his chin. “I’m going to get a haircut, trim the beard a little, get a job, look for a place to live...”
“I’m not throwing you out,” Cal said. “If you can live with Elizabeth, you can stay here. The rent’s cheap.”
“Elizabeth is a hoot,” he said. “I thought I’d rent something because it’s what I do. That doesn’t mean I won’t hang out with you sometimes.”
“This sounds kind of long-term,” Cal said.
“For me,” Dakota clarified. “A few months, anyway. I like the Crossing, the trails, the lake, the people. Seems like a good place to collect my thoughts.”
“We’d love it if you were close,” Cal said. “Listen, you okay here by yourself for a few days? It’s time for Maggie to go to Denver again. Three to four days a week she operates and sees patients. She has a babysitter there but I don’t have any clients or court appearances so I’m going along this time. I won’t be back unless someone calls and needs me.”
Dakota laughed and ran a hand over his head. “All this flexibility is giving me a rash. I’m used to a strict routine.”
“Fine,” Cal said. “Have a strict routine, that won’t bother anyone. But Maggie and I have Elizabeth and two careers. Not to mention Sully and a campground. Just let me know if you’re going to be around for a meal, that’s all I need from you. Well, that and if you’re going to stumble in at 3:00 a.m. and make me get out the rifle because I think someone’s breaking in. That would involve communication, Dakota. You haven’t exactly excelled in that.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said. “You have my cell number, right?”
“You have enough money to rent your own place? Because I—”
“I got it,” Dakota said. “And I’ll be sure to call so you can throw another potato in the soup.”
Cal was quiet for a moment. “It’s been good. Having you around,” he finally said.
“I’ll do my best not to screw that up,” Dakota said.
Cal, Maggie and Elizabeth left very early in the morning for Denver. If Dakota understood things correctly, Maggie would go straight to work, seeing patients all morning, then operating all afternoon, then repeating that cycle again and again. One week it would be three long days, the next week it would be four days. Once a month she would be on call to the emergency room, adding a fifth day to her cycle. And Cal, a criminal defense attorney, was seeing clients in his home office or other meeting places—the diner, the Crossing on Sully’s porch, the bookstore—and for anything from wills to real estate deals. Once in a while he actually got someone out of jail. Dakota filed that information away in case he needed it.
That left Dakota on his own for a few days. And as Sully had predicted, it rained. And rained.
He dropped into a real estate office and picked up a flyer of local rental properties, then headed for a haircut. He looked up and down the street and found that the barbershop was closed so he dropped in to the beauty shop. Fancy Cuts. He stepped inside the door and spied six chairs and three clients with hair stylists. He flashed that million-watt smile of his and said, “I’m not looking for anything real fancy, but can you handle a head and a beard left unattended awhile?”
Less than a moment passed. A beautiful young woman took a step toward him. “I’ve got this,” she said confidently to the other stylists, both older women. “Give me five minutes. Have a seat.”
She went back to her client, an elderly woman whose hair seemed to be a mass of pink sausages. “You can’t be done in five minutes,” the client said a bit more loudly than necessary.
“Oh, yes, I will,” said the beauty. “And you’ll love it.”
“Well, it better not be—”
The stylist applied a brush and went to town. She fluffed out the woman’s hair, did a little backcombing and shaping, sprayed some spray.
Dakota picked up a magazine and idly paged through it. Good oral hygiene had never served him better. In five minutes he was in the chair with the beautiful Alyssa running a comb casually through his dark hair. “What are we doing with you today?”
Dakota was suddenly conscious of how long it had been since he’d had sex. “Nothing special,” he said. Up against the wall work for you? “Just trim it up, and can you trim the beard? Not Hollywood, just not Duck Dynasty.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, showing him a brilliant smile of her own. “Let’s start with a good shampoo. Right this way.”
He didn’t mention he’d already done that in his morning shower but instead let her lead him to the back. While she massaged his scalp and quizzed him, he just let his eyes close gently. He had a brother not so far from here, he said. He was just out of the Army and planned on exploring the country a little, starting here. He liked to fish and hike. He wasn’t making any plans for a while. He was deliberately vague. This was a small town. He didn’t want to do or say anything that might reflect badly on Cal or Sierra and all those attached. Until he got the lay of the land, he’d be a little mysterious.
But her fingers in his hair felt amazing. “You married, Alyssa?” he asked in a soft, smoky voice.
“Still waiting for the right guy, Dakota,” she whispered back. “Do you have a lot of friends around here?” she asked, smothering his head with a towel and leading him back to her station.
“My brother’s friends,” he said with a shrug. “A few nice people.”
“No girlfriend?”
He met her eyes in the mirror. “No girlfriend.”
“I take that to mean there’s no wife or fiancée, either?” she asked.
He shook his head, feeling like great sex could be minutes away. It was a feeling, not something he’d act on. This was Cal and Sierra’s town. Hit-and-run wouldn’t work. The repercussions could make life difficult for people he cared about and he wouldn’t risk it. But this Alyssa, long-legged, beautiful, friendly, ready—this held great promise. He might have found himself a woman to pass the time with. It was worth considering. And it was worth slowing down and using caution.
“You know your way around a pair of scissors,” he said, looking in the mirror. The haircut was excellent; the beard was looking good.
“You okay with the gray?” she asked. “Because if you’re not...”
“I think it’s fine,” he said. “I earned every one.”
“That’s good, because I like it. It’s very attractive.”
“Are you buttering me up for a good tip?” he teased.
“You’re kidding, right? Since you’re new to the area, could you use someone to show you around?”
“That might come in handy,” he said. “Right now I have somewhere I have to be. Maybe you’d trust me with your phone number?”
“Sure,” she said. She waited for him to get out his phone, then rattled off the digits. “I’d be more than happy to. This is a great little town. Full of possibilities.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Well, Alyssa, thanks for a good job. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
He paid in cash; the tip was excellent. He put on his jacket, turned the collar up and walked out into the rain. He went down the block and across the street to the diner. Sierra was working today. He’d have lunch and show her his flyer of rental properties.
Dakota took a booth at the diner and let Sierra wait on him. He ordered a bowl of soup, half a sandwich and a coffee. It wasn’t long before Sierra slid into the booth with a slice of blueberry pie.
“Is that for me?” he asked.
She looked at it for a second. “Yes,” she said. Then she went back behind the counter and got another slice of pie, making him laugh at her.
“You’re so thoughtful,” he said.
“I am,” she said. “In the early summer we have rhubarb pie and rhubarb cobbler. I think this year I’m going to learn to bake.”
“When are you going to learn to get married?” he asked. “Seems like six months ago Connie asked us all if we would give consent and I guess I thought...”
“Well, you old fogy, you.” She grinned at him. “We keep meaning to plan something. Hey, Cal’s gone, right? Connie’s off tonight. It’s going to be cold and rainy. We’re having a fire and soup. Wanna come over?”
“I don’t know. Is there any nightlife around here?” he asked.
“Yeah—at our house. Fire and soup. Connie’s cooking. It’s amazing. Firemen are excellent cooks. Maybe if you’re very good, we’ll put on a movie. Or play a board game.”
He gave her a steady look. “I don’t think it’s going to take me long to get really bored.”
“You coming?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug.
Blood is thicker than water.
—GERMAN PROVERB
2 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
DAKOTA HAD LOOKED at three potential rental properties after lunch. They were adequate but a little large for just one guy and none of them felt right. He made an appointment with a property manager for the next morning and he looked at four more rentals. The last one was in the country, about ten miles from town. The cabin had a nice big porch. It was on a hillside and a creek ran past. There was a small bridge crossing the creek. “The creek swells in spring and early summer,” the agent said. “It was built as a vacation cabin. The owner liked to fish. He claimed the fishing was good in that creek.”
Dakota asked if they could go inside. It was a decent size, probably nine hundred square feet. There were two bedrooms, one medium-size bath, a galley kitchen and a nice big table, sofa and chair all in the great room. There was no TV but there was a desk. “Does it come furnished?” he asked.
“It can,” the agent said. “The owner is deceased and the heirs are letting it go. Our office is managing the property for now. We’re prepared to remove what you don’t want, leave what you can use. There’s no washer or dryer.”
“I hate doing laundry,” he said, smiling at her. In fact, he had both a brother and a sister with machines he could borrow. And there was always commercial laundry. “How much?”
“It’s pricey,” she said. And indeed, it was more than the larger houses he’d looked at. It was quaint. Rustic. There was a stone fireplace. The appliances looked fairly new, maybe a couple of years old. “It’s kind of isolated,” she said. “The water heater is new, the roof is in good repair, everything in the kitchen is functional. Even the ice maker.”
He didn’t say anything. He just walked around, touching the leather sofa, opening the kitchen cabinets. He lay down on the bed. He wasn’t sure about the mattress yet—it might need to be upgraded. He’d brought only clothes and vital papers with him to Colorado. It looked pretty well stocked. Based on what he saw, he could fry an egg, microwave a meal, dry off after a shower. He could get himself a small grill. He might trade out the linens for new but it was in good shape. Better than some Army quarters he’d stayed in.
Then he stepped back outside onto the porch. There, on the other side of the creek, he saw deer. A buck, a couple of does and a very new fawn. One doe looked ready to give birth. He looked around the porch. “It needs a good chair.”
“There isn’t one but you could pick one up pretty cheap.”
“I’ll take it,” he said.
There was a rental agreement to sign and the property manager had to run him through a credit check. Fortunately, he knew his credit was excellent, and even though he’d been in the brig and stood a court-martial, he learned when he purchased the Jeep that his military incarceration didn’t show up in civilian records. “You just tell me when you’re ready for me to sign papers. You have my cell number.”
He was oddly euphoric about this cabin in the woods. A man could sit quietly on that porch and watch nature, watch wildlife. He imagined that in the dark of night he would hear wildlife and in the morning, birds. He would be busy because he liked being busy, but he would thoroughly enjoy relaxing in a small, isolated cabin. He’d like sleeping there. He’d like listening to the rain there.
He hadn’t really imagined this scenario—that he’d come to Colorado and get his own place and be within a short drive of family. Actual family. He thought he’d visit, check them out, maybe stay a little longer than was typical for him, then press on. But then, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He’d left his Army family. Where else would he turn? Even though Dakota was independent, he liked having people in his life. There had always been soldiers. He took good care of them, they took good care of him.
And something had changed with his siblings. Or with him. For the first time he considered them friends, not just family he was stuck with. He’d never been good about keeping in touch and the Army had always provided him with plenty of excuses. If he didn’t feel like checking in with them, then the Army, he could say, had other plans for him and he couldn’t get away. At the moment, for whatever reason, he wanted to be around them. Could it be they’d finally all grown up?
He went to the bar and grill in town for lunch. It looked like the bartender was just coming on duty. She was tying on her apron and talking to another employee, nodding vigorously and smiling. The man put a hand on her shoulder as she tied the last knot in the apron. Then she washed her hands and went behind the bar. “How can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“How about a hamburger, fries and Coke.”
She flipped the menu around for him. “I have seven burgers for you to choose from. We’re famous for them.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked.
She pointed to one of the burgers. “The Juicy Lucy with bacon and pickles, hold the onion. The cheese is on the inside. That’s my meal.”
“Thanks,” he said, squinting at her nametag. “Sid?”
“Sid,” she confirmed. “Short for Sidney. And how would you like that burger cooked?”
“Medium,” he said.
“Excellent,” she said. Then he watched her go to her pay station to punch his order into the computer.
This was his first visit to this pub. It was all dark wood with red leather bar stools and booths, red leather chair seats at the tables. It wasn’t real big but he assumed they could pack ’em in at happy hour. He took the menu and looked through it. The bar was open from eleven to eleven, no breakfast menu. They probably rolled the sidewalks up around here at nine every night. There was nothing fancy on the menu—just burgers, flat bread pizzas, salads, ribs and miscellaneous bar food. They did have a kids’ menu. And chili.
The bar was beautifully crafted, with an ornately carved back wall with a mirror so he could admire himself. He chuckled and took a drink of his Coke, but he was watching Sid. She greeted everyone. One older couple, probably in their seventies, came into the pub and she leaned across the bar to give them each a hug, laughing with them. Everyone knew her, it seemed. And she presided over the bar as her domain. He watched her laughing and talking while throwing together two tall Bloody Marys for her elderly friends. She put them on a tray and walked around the bar to serve them at their booth. She chatted with them for a moment.
Relatives? he wondered.
She brought him his lunch. “It’s going to be hot,” she said. “Enjoy.”
He was immediately disappointed. She was gone so fast.
He took a bite of the hamburger, burned his mouth but wouldn’t let on. He closed his eyes, chewed slowly and swallowed. When he opened his eyes Sid was standing there, smiling at him.
“Burned your mouth, didn’t you?” she said.
He nodded clumsily. “How could you tell?”
“Your eyes. Tears. Slow down, buddy. I’m not going to take it away from you.”
And then she whirled away again. She served up a couple of sodas, two beers and a glass of wine. But she came back.
“Well? How is it?”
“Outstanding,” he said. “As you know. But I would have put a couple of jalapeños on it.”
She tilted her head, thinking about that. “Not a bad idea. I skip the onions so I don’t drive away business.”
“This is a popular place,” he commented, making conversation.
“It’s almost the only game in town. We don’t compete with the diner—they’re better for breakfast, pie, soup, hot meals like roast beef, meat loaf, chicken pot pie. Home cookin’.” She smiled.
“Well, you’re right about the burger. Damn near burned my tongue off,” he added with a laugh. “You seem to know everyone.”
She gave the counter a wipe. “That takes about three days around here. And you’re not from around here.”
“I’m visiting,” he said. “I have some family nearby but today was a good day to look around. Have you been here all your life?”
“Unlike most of the population, no. Not from around here. Born and raised in South Dakota, worked a few years in California and now I’m here for a while.”
“We have that in common,” he said. “What’s ‘a while’ for you?”
She shook her head absently. “It’s been a little over a year so far. I didn’t plan that.”
“What’s holding you?”
“Besides the clean air, views, weather and people?” she asked with a lifted brow. “This is my brother’s place. I intended to help out for a little while, but...” Another shrug. He understood that—his future plans were full of shrugs, too.
“Your brother has a nice little place,” he said.
“So, where do you come from?” she asked.
He stopped himself from wincing. He’d have to remember to ask Sierra and Cal if everyone knew they all grew up in a bus. “I’m fresh out of the Army. I’m going to take a little time to decide what’s next. I’m going to see if there’s any work around here to keep me while I think it out. Like you said, lots to like around here.”
“Army? That’s a big commitment.”
“I went in as a kid,” he said. Then he picked up his burger to avoid explaining any more to this completely pleasant bartender.
“Well, if you like the outdoors, you’ll enjoy your stay.”
A woman sat down at the bar, leaving just a stool to separate them. “Can I get a chicken Caesar?” she asked Sid before Sid even had a chance to greet her.
“You bet. Anything to drink?”
“Water,” she said. And then she was texting on her phone.
He didn’t turn on his stool to look at her, but as he ate his hamburger he caught sight of her in the mirror behind the bar. She was very beautiful, her mahogany hair falling forward as she concentrated on her phone. He bit and chewed, and as his eyes moved just slightly left, he caught sight of Sid, but she shifted her gaze quickly. It made him smile. She was watching him and everyone else. She might have wanted to see how he reacted to the woman beside him.
He looked at Sid. She was in her thirties, he guessed. Her long hair was blond. Or reddish blond. She had that freckly pale skin of an Irish lass. She was quick, physically and verbally. And she didn’t flirt, but she was friendly. Or maybe neighborly was a better word. She treated him like she treated everyone else in the bar.
He was almost finished with his burger by the time Sid placed the salad in front of the woman at the bar. She shook out her napkin, placed it on her lap and picked up her fork. Then she looked at him and smiled. “Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry, I should have been more polite and said hello when I first sat down.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said, picking up a couple of fries. “You were busy. Texting, I assume. Our world’s great new communication tool.”
She laughed lightly. “Actually, checking social media. It’s a convenient way to stay up-to-date on friends and events, et cetera.”
He just nodded and chewed. He’d been able to avoid indulging in the big social media machine. He was guilty of communicating by texts and emails, however.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before,” she said. “I’m Neely.”
“Dakota,” he said, giving her a smile.
“Passing through?” she asked.
He tilted his head and gave that now-automatic shrug. “Visiting,” he said. “I have a brother not far from here. You?”
“Me? I’m a new resident. I have a couple of business interests in town but I actually live in Aurora, not too far from here.”
“Is Aurora a nice place to live?” he asked, shifting the discussion from him.
“It is,” she said, dabbing her lips with her napkin, leaving red lipstick stains on the white cloth. He glanced at Sid and caught her again, watching. “I couldn’t find anything around here I liked but there’s more to choose from in Aurora. And there’s more to do, more restaurants, more shopping, a little more culturally upmarket, more of everything. But then, Timberlake is more of a sportsmen and ranchers and tourists kind of place. Of course, the population is much larger in Aurora. So,” she said, spearing some salad. “Married?”
He chuckled. That was direct. “No,” he said. And he didn’t volley the question back to her.
“And how do you make a living, Mr....?”
“Dakota is fine. I’m just out of the Army. I have an interview with the county. I’m thinking of maybe picking up trash. I hear the benefits are excellent.”
There was a sound from down the bar but Neely didn’t appear to have heard it. Dakota knew where that had come from. Sid was amused. He was sure she’d snickered.
“Sounds like dirty work,” Neely said.
“I hear they give you gloves,” he said. Then he asked himself why he was doing this. She was bold. Bolder even than Alyssa. He must be giving off some kind of scent—available man who is in dire need. “The pay is good,” he added. “And that’s why we have showers.”
“And I’m sure it’s temporary,” she said.
“And how do you make a living?” he asked, and immediately regretted it.
“I’m into a lot of different things. I’ve been lucky. I’m invested in a few businesses and properties. And that, my friend, turns out to be a full-time job.”
“I’m sure,” he said.
“Isn’t this the best little bar?” she asked, to which he agreed. And she commented on this being the best time of year. She asked him if he liked to hunt or fish and he said he hoped to do some of that. She told him, between bites of her salad, that she was reading the most wonderful book about fly-fishing in Montana and she couldn’t believe how much it made her want to try it. He answered her superficial questions without giving away too much personal information. He did not offer to teach her fly-fishing. He didn’t elaborate on his connections here. Until he knew what was going on all around him, he didn’t throw out information.
But he noticed things. She wore very nice clothes—knee-high boots and a brushed-leather skirt. A red sweater that showed off a nice figure. A shawl rather than a jacket. Her watch was expensive looking but he was no expert on women’s jewelry. She had model-quality makeup. And the nails...
If this woman had walked into the officer’s club, he’d have beat everyone to the front of the line to buy her a drink. But here, he just didn’t.
They had a pleasant, meaningless conversation. Sid took his plate, refilled his Coke and put his bill on the bar. Neely took a few more bites of salad and then blotted her lips, looked at her watch and said, “Well, I’m off. Late again.” She fixed her black wrap around her shoulders and stood. “Hey, I have an idea. I have a reservation for one for dinner tonight. A very interesting and cozy little restaurant in Aurora—Henry’s. I’d be pleased to make it for two. Let me take you to dinner as a welcome-to-Colorado gesture. And maybe we’ll get to know each other better.”
“That’s very nice of you,” he said, not standing. “I’m afraid I have plans tonight. But thank you.”
She very confidently turned over the receipt for her lunch, popped out a pen and scribbled on the back. The name of the restaurant and her phone number. Also, 7:00 p.m. “Sometimes plans change,” she said, and then she winked at him.
Really, she winked. This was a moral dilemma. She was sex waiting to happen. He wasn’t above that.
Sid was suddenly standing in front of him. “Can I get you anything else?”
“You were right about the burger,” he said. “Outstanding.”
“You had a good lunch, then,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“It was the most interesting one in Timberlake so far.”
“Oh?” she said, raising her tawny eyebrows.
“You’re not fooling me,” he said. “You heard every word.”
“Oh, of course I didn’t,” she said. “I never do!”
“You’re full of shit, Sid,” he said, grinning. He threw some bills on the bar and told her to keep the change. And he left Neely’s receipt on the bar.
Dakota had a very productive afternoon. He checked on Sully, did a little restocking for him, had coffee with old Frank, who was like a fixture at the store, and saw Sierra when she came by the Crossing to see if she was needed for anything.
“Want to come to dinner tonight?” she asked him. “It’s just me and Molly. I’m thinking grilled cheese and a chick flick.”
“Oh God, that’s so hard to pass up,” he said. “I’m going to take my chances on Cal’s big screen. There has to be something on. Or I could read...”
Sully snorted.
“Hey, I can read!”
“I’m sure you can,” Sully said.
“I guess that was a no,” Sierra said.
“If you want me to come over, I will,” he said.
“As a matter of fact, I enjoy my nights alone with the dog,” she said. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“As a matter of fact, I do okay on my own, too,” he said. But he kissed her forehead in a very sweet big-brotherly fashion.
At six thirty he entered the bar and grill in Timberlake and sat up at the bar. It was only moments before Sid saw him. She pleasured him with a sly half smile. She put down a napkin in front of him. “You’re going to be late.”
“For what?” he asked, showing her his megawatt smile.
“Dinner at the chichi restaurant, which isn’t Henry’s by the way. It’s Hank’s. And it’s expensive. She was buying, you idiot.”
“She winked at me,” he said. “I was terrified.”
She threw her head back, her strawberry blond ponytail rippling in time to her laughter. “I bet you were torn,” she said when she stopped.
“Okay, truth, I thought about it for a second. But my experience is, that is not a good sign. If it’s that bold, it’s loaded. With trouble.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know anything about her.”
He grinned at Sid and it was completely genuine. “You are such a liar.”
“And what can I get you?” she asked.
“A beer. Whatever is on tap.”
“Are you having anything to eat with that?”
“No. I’ll be thinking about food with my next beer. I bet you see and hear some stuff in here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. She served him up a beer. “I had to sign a confidentiality agreement to work here. Your priest isn’t as safe as I am.”
“Cocky,” he said. “You hear a lot of jokes, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m even learning to tell a few. I have to practice in front of the mirror.”
“I bet you don’t,” he said with a laugh. “I’m very experienced in talking to bartenders and you’re not what you seem.”
“I can assure you, I’m exactly what you see,” she said.
“Okay, what did you do before bartending?” he asked.
“Don’t you think that’s a little personal?” she returned.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Unless you were in the Secret Service or something.”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.”
“If you were, you’d have a cover,” he said. He disarmed her with his smile.
“I worked in computers,” she said. “Very dull. In a room without windows. Figuring out programs and stuff. It’s what everyone in California is doing these days. What did you do in the Army?”
He leaned back, almost satisfied. “I mostly trained to go to war and then went to war. My last shift was Afghanistan. And that’s when I decided I’d rather pick up trash.”
“Really? That sounds like a dramatic change.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Do you know a guy named Tom Canaday?”
“Sure. I know Tom. Everyone knows Tom.”
“I met him. Hell of a nice person, Tom. He’s had all kinds of jobs, being a single father and all. He said roadwork, refuse pickup and plowing in winter pay very well and have great benefits. He said he still works for the county part-time.”
“You weren’t kidding about picking up trash,” she said. And then her cheeks turned a little pink.
“Aha! I knew it! You never miss a thing!” He laughed at her.
“How’d you meet Tom?” she asked.
“If I tell you, promise not to tell your other customers?” She put a hand on her hip and just glared at him. “He did some work for my brother. My brother had a remodeling job and Tom helped.”
“Well, that makes sense,” she said. “Tom has worked all over this valley. He even did some work in this bar.”
Dakota looked around. “I don’t know what he did but it’s a good-looking bar. Now back to you. Why’d you trade computers for bartending?”
She sighed. “Rob, my brother, is also a single father. His wife died and their kids were very young. So, he changed his life, moved here with the boys, bought this bar and it worked for him. He has some good employees so his schedule is flexible—he can leave someone else in charge and be available for the boys. They’re fourteen and sixteen now and active. But then his manager gave notice and quit and he needed help right about the same time I wanted a change. Who better than Aunt Sid? And, as it turns out, I like this.” She flung an arm wide. “I now have windows and everything.”
“Really different, though, isn’t it?” he asked.
“About as different as picking up trash will be from going to war,” she said.
He drank a little of his beer. “Got me there,” he said. “In my case, that could be a refreshing change.”
“Did you ever find yourself married?” she asked him.
He gave her a perplexed look. “As in, you wake up one morning and find yourself married? No, that never happened to me. Did you ever find yourself married?”
“I’m divorced,” she said. “Over a year now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked at him with a slightly sad or sheepish smile. Then she gave a nod. “Incoming,” she said, and turned away to wait on someone else.
“Well, what a coincidence,” Alyssa said. He saw her reflection in the mirror and turned toward her. She put her hand on the chair beside him. “Are you waiting for someone?” she asked.
Dakota was amazed at how quickly Sid could sneak away. She was all the way down at the other end of the bar. “No,” Dakota said.
“All right if I sit here?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Of course. Can I buy you a drink?”
“That would be so nice,” she said, fluffing her hair. “What have you been doing with yourself?”
“Nothing much,” he said. “Looking around. You?”
She laughed brightly and he knew. He was being stalked. There must be a real shortage of men around here. This wasn’t something that happened to him with regularity—women coming on to him. It happened, but not often. What was more common was him coming on to them. He certainly couldn’t complain about their looks, the two women who’d hit on him since he’d arrived in town. Alyssa was gorgeous. She was probably five-ten and her silky hair screamed for a man’s hands. And those legs, so many possibilities there.
She began to describe her day of styling hair, laughing at her own stories.
“Hi, Alyssa,” Sid said. “What can I get you?”
“A glass of merlot? Whatever label you like.”
“Coming right up,” she said, turning away.
Dakota was disappointed. He enjoyed a little good-natured bantering with a woman who was capable of giving it back. Alyssa was very sweet and polite, nothing about her put him off. He asked her what she did for fun. She liked to shop. Did she ski in winter? “Sure, everyone skis. Do you? Is that what brought you to Colorado?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, but I’m no expert. What else do you do for fun?”
She liked to get together with friends. Sometimes they went to Denver, clubbing. Three of them, single girls, went to Las Vegas for a long weekend; now, that was a blast. Talk about hangover city.
A couple of uniformed troopers came into the bar, sat at the end and Sid brought them coffee without being asked. They had her laughing her head off in no time. She put in their dinner order and went right back to them. She seemed to have a lot to say to them, laughing and gesturing with her hands. She refilled their coffee.
“Did you hear me?” Alyssa asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was distracted by the cops.”
“I said, maybe we should go out sometime. What do you like to do?”
Crap, he thought. “Let me get a little settled first. I’m new around here, remember.”
“I could help with that,” she said.
“And I appreciate that, Alyssa.”
A man in a plaid shirt brought out a couple of plates from the kitchen and went behind the bar, taking them to the cops. He put a hand on Sid’s shoulder and they all laughed together. The brother, Dakota thought. They reminded him a little bit of himself and Sierra; you could feel the bond between them.
“Are you wanted or something?” Alyssa asked him.
“Huh?”
“I said, are you wanted? Do you have warrants? Because you can’t take your eyes off the cops.”
“God, I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand down his face, over his beard. “I was wondering what it would take to get on the police force. Highway patrol, maybe. A lot of military men end up in the police department or fire department. I might not be that smart but I’m definitely in shape.”
“Oh, I bet you’re very smart,” she said.
“So, tell me how you chose your career,” he said, then inwardly cringed. He really wanted to run for his life. He was a bad person. She was just being nice; he should be flattered. But he wanted her to go away so he could talk with Sid.
“Ready for another beer?” Sid asked.
“Thanks, but...” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to go.”
“No dinner?” she asked with a devilish curve to her lips.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid.” He stood to dig out his wallet. “You take good care of the police,” he commented.
“Absolutely. They return the favor.”
“Take care of me and Alyssa here. Keep the change. Alyssa, you staying?”
“No, I’ll walk out with you,” she said.
He put a hand on her elbow to escort her out and asked her where her car was. At the beauty shop, of course. He prayed: please don’t try anything. Wasn’t that upside down? Didn’t normal men want beautiful women to try things? Anything? But this was a real small town and he had no follow-through here. He took her keys from her, beeped her doors unlocked and nearly pushed her into the car.
“There you go,” he said with finality. “I’ll see you real soon, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, clearly disappointed in him.
“Drive carefully!”
He plunged his hands in his pockets and sauntered back toward the bar to get his vehicle. Ah, that was how Alyssa knew! She could see the bar and grill from the salon; she could see his Jeep. He got in and started the engine. Then he sat there a minute. He thought about driving around the block a couple of times, then going back. He thought about just sitting there for a while, waiting for when Sid got off work. To do what? Follow her home? “Argh,” he growled, disgusted.
Then he asked himself two questions. One—what was it about Sid that was threatening to turn him into a creep? And two—did Cal have anything in the refrigerator he could eat?
The happiest moments of my life have been
the few which I have passed at home
in the bosom of my family.
—THOMAS JEFFERSON
3 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
SID ENJOYED WALKING home from the bar. It was nine, it was a brisk spring night and she’d put in a full, long day. She rarely stayed until closing; one of the other waitresses and Rob could manage behind the bar with the dwindling clientele. She left the weekends to the men and more energetic women. She typically worked Monday through Thursday but was willing to fill in here and there when needed. And, of course, her brother being the owner, she had good benefits.
The bar had saved her life. Well, Rob had saved her. And now she was schlepping drinks and meals and everyone was her friend. From introverted mathematician to gregarious barkeep. She didn’t know she could be this happy.
The new guy, Dakota, was a cocky one. He knew he was good-looking; she’d seen his type before and stayed far away from them. He downplayed it even though he had women crawling all over him. What was he doing? Playing hard to get? Letting the women make fools of themselves while he enjoyed the attention? If she could trust any man she might take the time to understand him. But she would only get to know as much of Dakota as could be learned with a nice big bar separating them.
She trusted one man only—her brother. Rob was the strongest, most genuine man she knew. When she was about to die of a broken heart, he came for her.
It had been a dark, desolate time. Without warning, her husband left her for another woman. They’d been together seven years; she’d put him through medical school and supported him through his residency, and when he was done, he left her. He’d been with the other woman for two years, he’d said. She had never suspected.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. They’d had plans. After residency he’d study for his boards, and right after passing the boards, they were going to have a baby. They hoped to have three. She thought they were in love, but while he was intimate with Sid, he was making promises to another woman. She knew they didn’t have sex very often, but wasn’t that how marriage and familiarity worked out? They talked about their future family. Was she remembering right? Was it just Sid who’d talked about their future? With her brain constantly riddled with equations, she often missed things happening right in front of her. Friends called her the absentminded professor. When David left, he had no lingering med school debt—no debt of any kind. That course of events had happened often enough that it was considered an old story—one spouse supports the other through a tough program like med school, then they divorce. It was such a cliché.
But Sid hadn’t had a clue. She should have known he didn’t love her. She should have felt it. But she herself was overworked, putting in long, long hours at the lab, drowning in data to be analyzed and sorted. She’d only been married seven years and was already grateful when David just left her alone so she could either work or rest.
She was in shock for a few months. Paralyzed with disbelief. Rob was her only family and he was struggling to raise two beautiful boys alone. They were getting by; she was so proud of them. As far as she knew, Rob didn’t date at all. But Rob had the boys. Sid had no one.
She didn’t tell anyone at work, but then her work friends weren’t social friends. They’d go out for a late-night drink sometimes after putting in a particularly grueling week; sometimes they’d have a meeting over breakfast or lunch. There was no girlfriend to call and cry to. It was different for a bunch of brainiacs. They were mostly introverts. Sid was one of the few who had a slightly social side to her personality but she could be content focusing on her work, living inside her head. Her husband had been so busy with residency she hadn’t expected much of a social life, anyway. Once he left her, she realized they rarely went out with friends, and when they did, they were usually doctors or hospital staff.
She moved through her days in a fog, going to work, writing papers, delivering lectures on quantum computing, managing a specially trained staff on UCLA’s DNA computing analysis. It seemed they were always close to a breakthrough—no time to relax, no time to play around—a quantum computer that sorted and analyzed DNA in a split second and made chromosome projections could change the world, eliminate birth defects, cure diseases. They worked off several huge government grants and contributions from foundations and patrons. They worked on tight deadline after tight deadline.
She was pretty far up the chain, on the top rung of a notable research team with only two PhDs above her. People brought their problems to her. She could hardly go to Dr. Faraday and have a breakdown and get personal advice. He was grooming his work for a Nobel Prize.
She had been very well compensated, of course. She made enough money to pay for their medium-size LA home, David’s medical school, five years of residency, her own advanced education, living expenses and, in seven years, two vacations.
She didn’t talk about her marriage, or rather her divorce. Throw a bunch of computer programmers and analysts in a room and they don’t tend to talk about their feelings.
One of the interns, a woman, noticed Sid was losing weight and seemed tired. Dr. Faraday asked her if she was getting sick. “Because we can’t afford to have you get sick.” She told him she was having some personal issues with her marriage, but she wasn’t specific and he dropped it like a hot potato.
Sidney began to suspect David had never loved her, had never been faithful, and she was too busy and too inexperienced in things like romance and relationships to see the signs. She remembered his opening line to her. “I saw an article about you in the LA Times—young physicist making waves in quantum computing.” He probably thought cha-ching. Meal ticket.
David began the divorce proceedings immediately. After all she’d done to support him he wanted half of everything they had accrued—half the savings, half the house, half of her pension! He was going to take everything she had and she’d be forced to start over. She should have found her own attorney at once but Sidney couldn’t move. She couldn’t function. She couldn’t get out of bed. Her students and coworkers emailed but she didn’t open the computer. They called her but she didn’t answer the phone. She didn’t answer the door. It was her elderly neighbor who had watched the house once when she visited Rob who’d unearthed his phone number and called him.
“Is Sidney there with you?” she had asked.
“With me? No! I’ve left her a couple of messages and she hasn’t returned my calls, but Sidney gets like that sometimes. If she gets really busy at the university, she just doesn’t pay attention.”
“Ever since David left her—”
“What?” Rob had shouted into the phone.
“You didn’t know? She didn’t want to talk about it but I’m so worried now. She’s been getting so thin, looking so wounded. I haven’t seen her in days and she won’t answer the door. I’m afraid she’s done something to herself. Her husband hasn’t been around. And she didn’t say she was going away.”
“Good God, call the police! Break down the door. Please make sure she’s in there, that she’s all right. I’ll be on the next plane.”
By the time Rob arrived Sid had been taken to the hospital by ambulance. An IV replaced fluids so she wasn’t dehydrated any longer, and she’d been medicated. But mentally and emotionally, she was ruined. Rob sat on the edge of her bed, took her hand in his and said, “Sid, what were you trying to do?”
It took her a very long time to speak. At long last, she said, “I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do.”
She felt she had failed so monumentally she couldn’t move. It wasn’t just that her marriage didn’t work; it was that she could be so successful in her field and not even notice her marriage didn’t work.
He pulled her into his arms and they wept.
Her doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital—in the psych ward. But Rob worked with them to find a good facility in Colorado. She needed medication and therapy. Rob brought Sid into his home after a brief and healing stint in the hospital, got her set up with a therapist. He hired a lawyer to represent Sid and helped her work through her divorce. Day by day, hour by hour, she got back on her feet. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t quick.
Sidney had never been very emotional and she certainly wasn’t a romantic. She was a scientist, a pragmatist, living in a world of equations and computations. But now she knew how dangerous a broken heart could be. And she learned how awful having no family, no real emotional bonds, could be.
She had had an emotional meltdown and what she learned was so ridiculously simple she felt even more stupid. She had not been living a balanced life. She had been completely absorbed in difficult work, had been physically tired, had no love in her life, became isolated and her defenses were down.
She collapsed.
Rob brought her into the bar, at first to lend a hand or have a meal with the boys. Eventually she worked her way into the business, getting to know the patrons, becoming friends with the other employees, getting to know the people in the town. Now it was her lifeline.
She still lived with her brother and nephews. She and Rob worked together to make sure the boys had everything they needed and the full support of parental figures. Sean and Finn were smart, athletic and funny. College was on the horizon.
“We’re going to turn into one of those odd brother and sister couples who no one understands and who live into old age together without changing anything,” Sid joked.
The town didn’t know all she’d been through. She was divorced, as were many people. They only knew a little of what Rob had been through, burying a young wife when his sons were only six and eight.
There was one thing that continued to plague her. How could her ex-husband treat her with that kind of selfish cruelty, use her as he had, abandon her the way he did and sleep at night? She tried not to think about that too much; it made her too sad. She was not known as a sad person. She was well liked and considered to be bright and funny and helpful.
There were plenty of attractive, personable men in Timberlake. She’d even been asked out. Could she ever be friends with a man again? She thought probably not.
But she took an oath. She was never going to let herself be that isolated and overworked again. She planned to surround herself with family and friends. Casual friends, not lovers.
* * *
By the time Cal got back from Denver, Dakota had signed his rental agreement, moved in his meager belongings and been hired by the county to haul trash part-time, starting in ten days. There would be a few days of training first, though how one trained in picking up garbage eluded him. He hoped they’d let him drive the big truck.
“Wow,” Cal said. “This almost sounds like you really are staying awhile.”
“Awhile,” he said, noncommittal.
“Gonna show me your place?” Cal asked.
“Certainly. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Let’s go!”
Cal jumped in the Jeep and they drove for about fifteen minutes to the little cabin in the woods. Dakota drove slowly over the bridge. “I hear this creek swells in spring. If it gets bad, I guess I’ll have to pole-vault home.”
“This is downright...cute,” Cal said.
“Be careful there,” he said. “It’s manly.”
“That, too,” Cal said.
“I just bought two canvas deck chairs. We can sit on the porch and have a beer and watch the deer and bunnies.”
They went inside and Cal admired the wood floors, the appliances, the big table, the stone fireplace. “This is not bad,” he pronounced.
“I like it,” Dakota said.
“Kind of all alone out here, isn’t it?”
“That’s the part I like best,” Dakota said. “But it turns out I have Wi-Fi. I’m not sure how good it is but if it’s terrible I’ll just spend a lot of time at your place. Or Sully’s. Or Sierra’s. Hey, when is Sierra getting married?”
Cal looked at him in surprise. “Are you concerned?”
“Nah, but I want to make sure she’s taken care of. You know?”
Cal put his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t know. You’ve hardly communicated, now you’re taking care of people?”
“To be honest, I never thought I’d be around family. I don’t hate it,” he added, smiling.
“Why didn’t that occur to you before?” Cal asked.
“Seriously?” Dakota said. “Let’s see. Not only was I in the Army, you were in Michigan! What’s the matter, was the North Pole full? Dad was in the twilight zone. Mom was pretty much there with him, and Sierra was under the influence. Are you suggesting I should have gone to live near Sedona so she could run my life?”
“You have a point,” Cal said.
“Who knew you and Sierra would settle in a cool place?”
“I never saw it coming, either,” Cal said. “I was just hiking. It was time and I was looking for the right place to scatter Lynne’s ashes...”
“And you end up at some old guy’s campground and he has a gorgeous daughter who just happens to be a neurosurgeon? How does that happen?”
“I must be living right,” Cal said. “You need anything? This stuff going to get you by?”
“I don’t need anything, Cal.”
“You don’t start your job for a while. It’s only part-time. If you need a little help, just say—”
Dakota put up his hand. “I left home seventeen years ago. I’ve gotten by without help, haven’t I?”
“I guess I always took it for granted that the Army was taking care of you,” Cal said. “We sure didn’t grow up soft, did we? But if there’s one thing we figured out early—there wasn’t much help available. Talk about training in making your own way.”
“That brings something to mind. Does everyone around here know how we grew up?”
“Everyone? I doubt everyone knows the details. The people we’re close to know. I took Maggie to the farm to meet the folks before we got married, giving her one last chance to run for her life.”
“And she didn’t run?”
“Nah,” he said. “Maggie’s tolerance and compassion far outpaces anything I’ve encountered. That’s one of the things I love about her.”
Dakota didn’t look at his brother but he could feel Cal’s eyes on him.
“You’re wasting a lot of energy still being mad at them,” Cal said.
“They weren’t exactly sterling parents,” Dakota said. “And it’s not because they were poor—there’s something honorable about being poor and holding it together. They were negligent. Jed should’ve been on medication! Marissa should have insisted.”
“Know what Maggie said about that? She said she’s had a lot of people refuse medical treatment for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they find the treatment worse than the disease, sometimes they’re afraid, sometimes they’ve made peace with their dysfunction and know how to live with it. He might not have been the best father but Jed is still a gentle soul. Crazy, but sweet. Scared of his own shadow but kind. He was always so good in his heart.”
“As he talked about his design of Apollo 13, or his Nobel nomination or some other delusion.”
“My favorite was when he was getting ready for a security briefing,” Cal said with a chuckle.
“I don’t want to laugh about it yet,” Dakota said.
“Let’s check out your new porch chairs and see if we can talk about things you find more agreeable.”
They sat and talked for a while about general things, the town, Sully’s place. Cal explained that Sully had had a heart attack a couple of years ago and ever since then those people attached to him—Maggie, Sierra, Cal, Connie—had all been checking on him regularly and pitching in with the chores around the Crossing. Dakota had fallen right into step, often showing up at the Crossing to help out.
In the late afternoon Dakota took Cal home and then headed for town. He parked way down the street and walked to the bar. He sat up at the bar and was promptly waited on by Rob. They chatted briefly while Rob served him a beer but there was no sign of Sid. Dakota nursed his beer slowly and eventually heard another customer talking to Rob. “Sid’s day off?”
“Not usually,” Rob said. “The boys had baseball tryouts and one of us had to take them so Aunt Sid offered. I told her to take the day off. She was just going to leave early, anyway.”
Then Dakota remembered: she left the weekends to the other bartender and waitresses because it got busy. That was good to know because Dakota wasn’t into crowded, noisy bars. But he would have to wait until the following Monday to see her again. He could take a chance on Sunday but he was pretty sure she had said Monday through Thursday was her usual schedule.
Through the weekend he enjoyed himself with his family and their families. Cal and Maggie hosted a big Saturday night dinner at their house because Connie wasn’t working and everyone was available. It was the end of March; the campground general store was still closing early and there were only a couple of intrepid campers. Sully liked to be in bed before nine so he left early, but the rest of them played poker until midnight.
At last it was Monday. Dakota was very calculating. He showed up at the bar between lunch and happy hour. He sat in his usual spot. The place was deserted. He waited for Sid to come through the swinging door from the kitchen. He grinned at her. And it was unmistakable...she smiled back. She slapped down a napkin in front of him. “And how can I help you today?”
“I’ll have a beer,” he said. “How’ve you been?”
“Me? Fine.” She craned her neck to look out the windows. “Are we expecting company today?”
“We are not. I parked behind the diner and walked down. I’m undercover.”
That brought a laugh out of her and she filled a glass with beer for him. “I don’t know why you’re fighting it. Alyssa is perfectly nice. And that other one is certainly beautiful and willing to buy you dinner. And, I suppose, other things...”
“I explained that,” he said. “Trouble. And Alyssa seems awfully young.”
“She’s not that young,” Sid said. “Just something to think about. How about you? How have you been?”
“Good. I thought we’d celebrate my new job.”
Her face lit up. “Congratulations! And what will you be doing?”
He lifted his beer and took a sip. “Picking up trash.”
She laughed and it was a wonderful sound. “Just as you planned.”
“It’s good money. I have to go to a training program first. Apparently there are things to learn about garbage. I hope they let me drive that big truck.”
She leaned on the bar. “That’s probably a senior position.”
“I’m experienced. I’ve driven great big MRAPs. You know—those enormous military vehicles that are resistant to mines and bullets and carry troops around the desert. I could probably parallel park a garbage truck.”
She laughed again. He could make her laugh. That was a start. “I might end up their star trash hauler.”
“After your training,” she reminded him.
“I bet I’m at the head of the class,” he said, grinning. “I doubt you have to be a Rhodes scholar to get through it.”
She seemed to snap to attention. “Why would you say that?”
“Just a joke. That was a strange reaction.”
“What exactly is a Rhodes scholar?” she asked.
“A recipient of the Rhodes Scholarship that includes a couple of years at Oxford,” he said. He judged her expression and it was his turn to laugh. “Hey, just because I’m hauling trash...”
“Huh,” she said. Then she wiped the bar. “The Army must have educated you very well.”
“In a manner of speaking. They have this nifty little thing called the GI Bill. When I was in the States, I took advantage.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I guess you’re a little overqualified for the county refuse pickup.”
He raised one brow. “How about you? College?”
She grinned. “What for? I love this job,” she said. “Seriously, it might be the best job I’ve ever had. Except once when I was a babysitter for this rich couple who took the family to France and brought me along to watch the kids. That was pretty sweet.”
“When do you get off work?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Because, Sid, I’d like to buy you a drink or a cup of coffee or something. Because I’m really not interested in Alyssa or Neely with her dinner at Hank’s or Henry’s or whatever, but I think I’d like to get to know you better.”
She looked around. “Well, while it’s not crowded and I’m finishing my chores behind the bar, we’ll get to know each other. I don’t date. I especially don’t date customers.”
“We don’t have to think of it as a date—”
“I like you, Dakota, but no. The answer is no. I’m not interested in dating. Not even just a coffee date.”
“I could tell you about all the times I got in trouble in the Army. You could tell me all your babysitting stories. You could fill me in on the town and I could tell you all about their trash.”
“Seriously,” she said. “Do I have to get my big brother?”
He slammed a fist to his chest. “Oh God! Not the big brother!”
“Don’t be cute,” she said.
He chuckled. “All right,” he said. “Can I have a Juicy Lucy? With jalapeños?”
“Medium?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
“That’s better. Now, enjoy your beer and don’t give me any trouble.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. What did you do over the weekend?” he asked. “On your days off.”
She ignored him while she keyed in his order. He could tell she was deciding whether it was a good idea to talk with him about personal things. Then she was back. “I did laundry, took the boys to the store for sporting gear, went for a hike, made their favorite Saturday night dinner, watched two movies and read a book.”
“A whole book?” he asked.
She just made a face. “What did you do?”
“We had a family dinner,” he said. “I have family here, did I mention that?”
“A brother, you said.”
“A brother, a sister, a sister-in-law and her father, a potential brother-in-law, a six-month-old niece. We ate, and after Sully went home we played poker till midnight.”
Her mouth fell open. Bingo, he thought. He was going to keep his private life from the town for now, but getting this woman’s attention had been too problematic.
“You’re related to Sully?” she asked.
“You know him?”
“Everybody knows Sully.”
“Then you probably know Cal, Maggie, Sierra and Connie. My family.”
“You didn’t tell me,” she said. “I consider them all friends. Not that we socialize or anything, but we see each other here and there. I see Sierra sometimes since we both work in town. Hmm.”
He smiled. “Now can we have coffee?”
“No,” she said.
“But you like my whole extended family!”
“Right,” she said. “And you’re a perfectly nice guy but you’re looking for a woman. Not a friend.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” he tried.
“I’m sure,” she said.
“What if I gave you my word we could be friends?” he asked.
“I’m getting Rob,” she said, turning as if to leave.
“Okay, I give up,” he said. “So, where’s a good place to hike around here?”
“You didn’t get enough of that in the Army? Sully’s place is sitting in the middle of some of the best trails. When you wear out those, head up to Boulder—awesome views.”
“Your nephews hike?”
“I need handcuffs and leg irons to get them to stick to hiking. They want to run, climb, dangle from cliffs, work out. They’re athletic and at their ages the hormones are just kicking in—lots of energy there.”
“How are they doing in school? You know, academically.”
“Fine,” she said. “As long as they’re doing well, we don’t harangue them. They’re kids. They both help out here and at home. They’re very good boys.”
“So the whole family works in the bar,” he said.
“Well, the boys can’t be in the bar—they’re minors. But there’s plenty to do around here. What about your family? I know what Sierra does. And Connie. I get firefighters and cops in here all the time.”
“We all help out at Sully’s, especially in spring. He’s getting ready for summer when his campground is full all the time. And after a long winter there’s plenty to do. Cal does a little lawyering here and there and Maggie works in Denver three to four days a week. And then there’s Elizabeth, who is brilliant. They keep trying to shame me into babysitting just to watch me squirm.”
“You don’t like kids?”
“Kids are great but I don’t do diapers. If they leave me alone with her I know something like that’s going to come up.”
“You might have children of your own someday. Then what?”
“Well, I’m not counting on that, but if it does happen, the baby’s mother will have to train me. I have no experience in that.”
“So, there are three kids in your family...”
“Four actually,” he said. “Cal’s the oldest. I have an older sister and Sierra’s the baby.”
“Older sister?”
“Wait for it,” he said. “Sedona. Two years younger than Cal, two years older than me. Cal’s name is actually California Jones.”
“That’s kind of...amazing,” she said. “Was there some significance? Something special about those places?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never been to either North or South Dakota. We did spend some time in California. My parents were... What’s a nice word? Freethinkers. Kind of hippies, for lack of a better description. It got us two states, one city and a mountain range.”
“That’s very cool,” she said.
“I spent most of my childhood on a farm in Iowa,” he said. “The kids in rural Iowa didn’t really find it cool. They found it strange.”
“They must have no imagination in Iowa,” she said. “I think it’s lovely. Interesting and lovely.”
She was such a nice person, he thought. And she was killing those jeans. He was going to have to be very patient. She had something going on in her head.
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “Why the big aversion to any sort of dating? Even the most innocent sort?”
“Are we going to start this again?”
“I’m not looking for an argument,” he said. “But really, it’s such a firm decision. Is there some specific reason? That might help me to get it and not take it personally.”
She sighed. “Ugly divorce. Divorce scars. Now do you get it?”
He shrugged. “Well, of course. But I’ve never heard of a nice divorce. I haven’t heard of anyone singing happy tunes after one, either.”
“Lucky you. You haven’t had the experience,” she said.
“I haven’t been divorced, no. I’ve had a couple of breakups and I agree they’re very tough. I spent a lot of time thinking about how I might’ve known that was going to end badly. Eventually I just moved on.” He drank some beer. “I guess you’re not there yet.”
Rob came out of the kitchen carrying Dakota’s lunch.
“Hey, Dakota. How’s it going?”
“Excellent, Rob. How are you?”
Before he could answer, Sid interrupted. “Rob, did you know Dakota is one of those Joneses? Cal, Maggie, Sierra, and by association Sully, Connie and there may be more.”
“Sure,” Rob said. “You didn’t know that?”
“Did you know the Joneses are named after states, cities and mountains?”
“I don’t know if I realized that,” Rob said. “Enjoy your burger. That’s Sid’s favorite.” Then he turned and was gone.
Dakota took a big bite. He chewed and swallowed. “Your brother likes me,” he said.
“It’s not going to do you any good,” she replied.
* * *
Dakota fell into a very uneventful, satisfying routine. He worked three long days a week and had Sunday through Wednesday off. He started at the crack of dawn, punching in at 5:00 a.m. and out at 3:00 p.m. They told him over the summer he might be able to pick up one more day and additional benefits, but he wasn’t too worried. He had the VA and a sister-in-law who was a doctor. There was still plenty of time in that schedule for him to help Sully and he managed to have dinner at the bar and grill at least two nights a week. He saw Cal and Sierra now and then, hung out with Sully sometimes, and although Tom didn’t have all that much time to spare, they managed to have a beer at Sully’s twice.
April was bringing the first blooms and campers, and the blossoming of his new friendship with Sully. First Sierra and now Dakota found in him the sane, philosophical and comical father they hadn’t had. For Dakota it started when he told Sully, “I guess you know we grew up picking vegetables with other migrant workers, living in a bus and getting no proper education.”
“For the life of me, I can’t figure out why that worked,” Sully said, scratching his mostly bald head.
“It didn’t work,” Dakota said. “It was awful.”
“And yet look at the lot of you,” Sully said. “You all turned out good. You didn’t just survive it, you aced it. But offering a manual on child raising that suggested that kind of upbringing as a way of creating a success...” He shook his head.
“It’s well-known that some lucky bastard will always rise out of poverty and ignorance and, in spite of hard times, make something of himself...”
“I know this,” Sully said. “A kid here, a kid there, escapes a poor, uneducated family and makes good. But the Jones clan? Near as I can tell—there were four of you and all four of you not only survived, but excelled.”
“Dumb luck, I guess,” Dakota said.
“There was some nurturing there,” Sully said. “Your mother, maybe your father on his better days, each other. Somehow it happened. I couldn’t have done it.”
Dakota laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Your daughter is Maggie!”
“Oh, I don’t take any credit for Maggie,” Sully said. “Her mother and stepfather raised her. Maggie’s mother left me when she was just small, took her away. I had failed them, see. Not that Phoebe, my ex-wife, was any treasure, mind you. We’re cordial now on account of Maggie, but it’s no secret we’d sooner live on different planets. She’s a giant pain in the ass. Her husband, Walter, a gentleman to the bone, not only puts up with her, he puts up with her generously. He’s a saint.”
Dakota chuckled. He’d heard from both Maggie and Cal that this Phoebe was annoying. “And you didn’t remarry?” he asked Sully.
“Why tempt fate?” Sully said. “Proved the first time I had no judgment where women were concerned. I met her and married her in less time than it takes paint to dry. That’s a clue.”
“But don’t you sometimes get...a little...lonely?”
“Did I say I’d never crossed paths with a woman? Even this old man can tell you, sometimes just being around a woman makes certain things better. Don’t go telling Maggie I said that. She’ll try to picture it in her head and get all riled up. But I’ve been friendly with women over the years. It’s a wise man who knows his limitations, son. Remember that.”
“I will,” Dakota said. But he couldn’t help but laugh.
He vowed to remember that. But he continued to go to the bar for two or three dinners a week. When Sid saw him coming, she gave a half smile and shook her head. She realized he was relentless. He liked her. And he could tell one of the problems she was having right now was that she also liked him. Well, maybe he shouldn’t go that far. She enjoyed him. Whatever the husband had done must have been so devious she was afraid that lurking beneath the surface of every good guy was a monster. Why else was the idea of even a cup of coffee such a terrible notion?
But Dakota was patient. He spent the month of April settling into the world of trash hauling. The first couple of weeks he hung on the side of the truck and picked up scattered refuse while a man named Lawrence drove and dumped the buckets. Lawrence was forty-seven but looked much older. His hair was going white; he had a wife and six kids. When he talked about his wife, everything came with an appreciative laugh and a headshake. “Ooh-wee, Benita made some of the best taco pie this man ever had!” Or, “Damn me, that woman got her fist on those boys o’ mine and they don’t dare talk back at their mama!” In short, Lawrence had a good, normal, happy life with all the usual problems. Dakota wanted to work with Lawrence forever. But he really wanted to drive. “You get to do that soon enough, boy,” Lawrence said.
April was full of rain and flowers. Hauling trash in the rain was just the same but wetter. But as the days passed, Dakota thought Sid might be softening up toward him, just a little bit.
The most extraordinary thing in the world
is an ordinary man and an ordinary woman
and their ordinary children.
—GILBERT K. CHESTERTON
4 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
TOM CANADAY WAS a happy man in general, always upbeat and positive even when times were challenging. It was his nature. His father was the same way and his mother might fret sometimes but she was both hopeful and helpful. Lately his happiness had been elevated a notch or two. He had a good woman in his life.
Tom had married his high school sweetheart when they were very young. They’d had four children, a handful for anyone. Zach, the youngest, was still in diapers when Becky left them and Tom became a single working father. Had his parents, brother and sister-in-law not helped from time to time, he never would have made it. Becky had moved out ten years ago now. Tom was the first to admit he’d had trouble moving on, but he was emotionally free now. There wasn’t a sliver of attachment to Becky left.
About the time Tom cut the ties he noticed Lola. Really noticed her. He’d known her almost all their lives; they were both raised near Timberlake and attended the same schools. They’d both married and divorced while still young. They saw each other around town all the time. Lola worked full-time at Home Depot, where Tom bought a lot of building supplies, and she was also a part-time waitress at the diner, just part-time enough for him to stop in for the occasional cup of coffee.
Tom had been getting a lot more pie and coffee the past six months than ever before.
Tom had been courting her for over six months and for two single parents to find time for romance was beyond difficult. But every time he kissed her he wanted more. He found Lola to be the most beautiful of women. She was strong and independent, but her strength and independence had not made her bitter. She was kind and compassionate. When he was able to put his arms around her and smell her sweet skin, he became aroused. She filled his arms with softness and he loved holding her against him.
But their schedules were impossible. They had to get by on what little time they could find here and there, maybe going to a home show or open house. They were both really into remodeling. In fact, they found they had many things in common. But they wanted to get alone together and just hadn’t found the opportunity.
It was 10:00 a.m. on a Thursday morning when Tom Canaday knocked on Lola’s door. When she opened it, smiling broadly, he handed her a gift-wrapped box.
“What is this?” she asked, taking it from him.
“Open it,” he said.
“Oh, Tom, you’re always so thoughtful,” she said, pulling the ribbon off. “Always thinking of others.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s me.”
She pulled off the top of the box and frowned. “What’s this?”
“You know what it is,” he said.
She pulled the item out. “A dead bolt?” she asked in confusion.
“For your bedroom door,” he said. “And I have a matching lock installed on my bedroom door.”
“I don’t think either of the boys will surprise us today,” she said with a laugh. “They’re both in school.” Cole had college classes and Trace was in high school.
“We’re not taking any chances.”
“They never open my bedroom door, Tom,” she said. “They’re scared to death they might see me in my underwear!”
“This is going to be different,” he said. “There will be no underwear. And they might hear noises and mistake it for you screaming in pain.” He grinned. “It won’t be pain.”
She put down the box and put her hands on his cheeks, kissing him soundly. His arms went around her to pull her closer, moving over her mouth with precision. He parted her lips with his, going deep, groaning as their tongues began to play. His hand slid down over her butt and pressed her close against him. The kiss went on and on, too long, really. He had to force himself to pull away. “Lola, quick—get me your toolbox.”
“You sure know how to woo a girl,” she said. She couldn’t help but giggle as she went to get the box. Having done a lot of her own repairs and renovating, she knew exactly what he’d need. By the time she got back he was already getting the lock out of the package. She immediately started handing him tools. First the screwdriver to remove the old doorknob, then the chisel and hammer to enlarge the opening in the jam. “I wish I’d gotten this done before the kissing,” he grumbled. “I gotta say, this is my first lock repair with a hard-on.”
“Just how long has it been?” she asked.
“Oh, about two minutes now,” he said.
“Not that!” she said with a laugh.
“You mean since I’ve had sex with a woman?” He wanted to clarify.
“Oh, my. Maybe we should talk about who else you might be having it with...”
He looked at her over his shoulder, lifting one eyebrow. “My left hand,” he said. “Believe me, you have nothing to be jealous of.”
“Tom,” she said in a scolding voice.
“It’s been such a long time,” he said, drilling in the screws.
She put down the toolbox where he could reach it and backed away from him. He grumbled a little bit at a stubborn screw but he made very fast work of the job. He closed the door, turned the lock and tested it, trying to open it. “Success!” he said.
But he turned and she wasn’t there.
“Lola?” he said.
She stepped into the doorway of her master bath wearing a sleek and satiny black robe. It took his breath away. “Whoa,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head.
Lola was so voluptuous. She wasn’t skinny or tiny. She was five-nine or so and full-figured. When they first started seeing each other she admitted she was self-conscious about her shape and considered herself overweight. Tom convinced her he loved her figure, loved her softness, loved that he could fall into her, fill his arms with her. She was full and rosy and smelled divine. He wanted to gobble her up from her dark, curly hair to her toes. “Holy God,” was all he could say. And he frantically began to tear off his clothes. At the last second, seeing her standing there in that lovely black robe, he left on his boxers. But before he’d gone to the hardware store to buy the privacy lock, he’d chosen them carefully. These were his best boxers.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said. He lifted her chin to kiss her while his other hand untied her robe and let it fall open. “Oh my God,” he said.
She rolled her shoulders back and the robe slid easily from her shoulders. And there she was, all pale flesh.
They’d been together for six months, and while they hadn’t been able to make love yet they’d done a lot of touching and talking. They were prepared in every way except one—they hadn’t lain down together without clothes.
“Why do you have these?” she said, giving the elastic of his boxers a snap.
“Why bother taking them off?” he said, pulling her against him. “I’m going to blast right through them.”
She pulled on his hand and they found the bed, lying down side by side, rolling together, holding on to each other, kissing like teenagers, their hands roving over each other’s bodies. Lola sighed, Tom moaned, lips were moving. He kissed her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. She stroked his butt, his thighs, and she managed to get rid of those boxers. Then he was on top, spreading her legs with a knee, moving closer and closer. He pushed forward and smiled against her lips. “I could embarrass myself here,” he said. “I’m wound a little tight.”
She shook her head. “Let’s not worry about making it perfect, okay? We’ve had to wait so long.”
“I know people who waited longer,” he said.
“But we’re forty,” she reminded him. “And we’re getting older by the minute...”
“You’re right,” he whispered. Then he found his way home. “Good God, it feels like you were made for me.”
She just hummed and covered his face with kisses.
Tom moved, they rocked, the bed squeaked, they clung to each other and it happened so fast. Both of them, bursting. Gasping. Then falling slowly and softly back to earth. He could not take his lips from hers; he didn’t even consider rolling away. He held his weight off her by bracing on his elbows.
“You have the softest lips in all creation,” he whispered against her mouth. “You have the sweetest body, the most beautiful dark lashes.”
“How do you do it?” she asked him. “How do you always make me feel so beautiful?”
“You are,” he whispered. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. And I love you.” He kissed her again. “I hope it was all right, because I’m in heaven.”
She laughed softly. “It was all right. Wonderful, in fact.”
“God, that was perfect.” He moved a little. “I’m not leaving.”
“That’s okay. I’m feeling very safe right now. Safe and satisfied.”
“That’s so good to hear.”
“That lock really turned you on,” she said.
“It wasn’t the lock,” he said, snuggling closer. “Please don’t let me fall asleep...”
“Tom, we should talk about something...”
“What?” he asked, lifting his head from her shoulder.
“The lock—it’s probably a good idea. A better idea is telling the kids we’re more than friends. They’re old enough that they deserve to know.”
“I don’t know. You have boys. I still have a young girl. Brenda is sixteen...”
“It’s no different with boys,” she said. “The kids all have to know the facts of life, the dangers and responsibilities, the joys. We’ve both been left by our spouses and have made good families while unmarried, but we’re entitled to be happy, too. Do you worry that your kids still hope you’ll reconcile with Becky? Because my boys don’t want that for me, for us. They’ve probably already guessed that we love each other.”
He smiled and moved a little. He moved a little more.
“You can’t be ready again,” she said. “That’s inhuman.”
“It’s just what you do to me.”
She put her arms around his neck. “Fine. We’ll talk when we have our clothes on.”
“Probably a good idea,” he said.
* * *
Dakota went to Rob’s bar for dinner on a Thursday night. It had become his habit for several weeks now and it had not gone unnoticed. When Sid saw him she just shook her head slightly and gave him a half smile. She slapped a napkin down on the bar in front of him.
“Back again, I see,” she said.
“Great seeing you, too, Sid,” he said, treating her to his sparkling grin. “How have you been?”
“Excellent. The usual?”
“Beer, then I’ll consider dinner.”
“And if Alyssa shows up, you’ll bolt?”
“I’m afraid I’ve been a big disappointment to Alyssa,” he said. “She wants a boyfriend and I’m not him.”
She put his beer in front of him. “Alyssa seems to be more tenacious than I gave her credit for.”
“Then I’ll be an even bigger disappointment. Because I’m tenacious, too.”
“I’m getting that.”
“So, what’s on your agenda for this weekend?” he asked.
“I’m pretty good at relaxing,” she said. “I have a couple of things scheduled. Nothing terribly exciting.”
“I’m off on Sunday,” he said. “Saturday night, too. What’s it going to take to get on your schedule?”
“We’ve been over that...”
“I could get a background check,” he suggested with a grin.
“Just give up, Dakota,” she said.
And then he noticed a little movement beside him.
“Isn’t this a nice surprise,” a woman’s voice said. And just as quickly, Sid was moving down the bar, asking people if they needed anything.
Neely. He hadn’t seen her in weeks. “Hi,” he said. “How are things?”
“Excellent. And you?”
“Good,” he said, lifting his beer.
“I’m Neely,” she reminded him.
“That’s right,” he said, as if he’d forgotten. “Dakota.”
“Oh, I remember.” She snapped her fingers, bringing Sid back. He frowned at that action. “Can I get a chicken Caesar and a club soda with lime?”
“Absolutely,” Sid said. “Dakota?”
“Nothing for me,” he said.
“So, you’ve been in Timberlake for over a month now,” Neely said. “Does that mean this little town appeals to you?”
“It’s a nice little town.”
“And have you settled in for a long stay?” she asked just as Sid put down her drink.
Dakota didn’t really feel like discussing his plans with her, but on the off chance that Sid might overhear, he told the truth. “I have a job here and I’ve rented a place, but long means different things to different people.”
“So tell me what you’ve seen and done since we last saw each other,” she said, sipping her drink.
“Nothing very interesting,” he said. He told her about the job, secretly hoping to put her off with his career as a garbage collector.
Then she told him she’d gone to a concert in Denver and she’d been shopping for things for her town house—area rugs, throw pillows, art. She suggested she’d have to show him sometime.
Dakota frowned. She would just invite him over? She didn’t know him. They had no people in common as far as he knew. All she knew was his first name and that he was a trash collector. That kind of rush to intimacy always made him suspicious.
She talked on, asking very few questions of him and those few he answered with one word if he could. He was thinking he would have to skip dinner tonight if she was going to hang around, but when she finished her salad she put her money on the bar. “Well, I’m off,” she said. “I hope we run into each other again soon.”
He was so grateful to see her go that he said, “I’m sure we will.” And when she cleared the door, he sighed.
“How does it feel to be a chick magnet?” Sid asked with laughter in her voice.
“Do not make fun of me,” he said. “There’s something about her that’s a little scary.”
“She seems perfectly nice,” Sid said. “Are you ready for your dinner now?”
“Almost,” he said. He picked up a menu and opened it. “Give me a couple of minutes. I think I might have to try something different tonight.”
“I thought you were close to doing that...but she gave up,” Sid said, walking away with a laugh.
Dakota looked through the menu while Sid waited on other patrons and mixed drinks for the waitstaff to take to tables. She paused for a moment to laugh with young Trace, the seventeen-year-old busboy. Dakota was thinking about wings and potato skins when Neely appeared out of nowhere. He jumped in surprise.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said. “I have a flat. I could call AAA but I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me out. I could make it up to you one of these days by buying dinner or even cooking for us.”
He thought about telling her to call AAA. But he couldn’t. He’d always considered it a point of honor to be kind and helpful to women. He said, “No problem.” Then he called out to Sid. “Hey, Sid! I’ll be right back. I’m going to help with a car problem. Reserve my spot, please.”
“Sure thing,” she said.
He held the door for Neely. He tried to walk behind her but she looped her arm through his.
“It’s down this way,” she said as she led him past the diner and around back. “The BMW is mine,” she said. Her flashy little BMW sat in the dark alley, just two spaces away from his Jeep SUV. He wondered immediately if that could possibly be a coincidence. He bent at the waist, looking at the tires.
“Which one?” he asked, straightening.
Neely pressed herself up against him and her lips were on his so fast he didn’t see her coming. Dakota had had many interesting experiences with women but this kind of aggression was a first. He gripped her upper arms and tried to move her away from him but it was hard—she was determined. Finally he managed to get some space between them. “What the...? Flat tire?”
She smiled and shrugged. “I thought maybe we’d get to know each other a little. Away from the nosy barmaid.”
He wasn’t sure what made him more angry—being tricked into leaving the bar for a potential tryst or Sid being referred to as a nosy barmaid. “Don’t ever do this again. It’s a bad idea.”
“Little uptight, aren’t you, Dakota?” she said, rubbing a hand over his chest.
He stepped back, out of her reach. He was seething inside, but he kept his cool. “Here’s a lesson in manners. If you want to get to know someone, you ask them. If they say no, you move on. You never trick them. This is creepy. Now go home.”
“Come on, you’re a big boy...”
“Good night,” he said, taking long strides away from her. He walked around the diner and back to the bar. He tried to shake off the weirdness of what had just happened. He got back on his favorite bar stool and saw that Sid had put a glass of ice water there. Grateful, he took a drink.
And left lipstick on the glass.
“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing a napkin and wiping off the rim of the glass and his mouth. She’d nailed him good.
“Beer?” Sid asked, slapping down a fresh napkin in front of him.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “And the Juicy Lucy with onion rings instead of fries.”
She looked at his face and pointed to her upper lip. “Missed a little here,” she said.
“I did not kiss her,” he said, maybe a little too loudly.
“You were attacked by a runaway lipstick tube?”
“You have it almost right,” he said.
“I thought you were going to try something different tonight.”
“Changed my mind. I like what I eat here. I look forward to it. I enjoy it.”
“Don’t get all goosey. I’ll take care of it.”
He wiped off his lips again. He sighed. No wonder he wanted to get to know Sid better and not Neely. He liked Sid. She was remarkably sane. She was so obviously smart. Her instincts were sharp. He thought she was pretty. She made him laugh and she challenged him by playing hard to get, except he knew she wasn’t playing. She was hard to get.
His hamburger arrived and he realized he was sulking as he ate. Every time he came to this bar when Sid was working he was hopeful she’d warm up to him, and every time Alyssa or Neely showed up, things got strange. So, Sid had been through something painful and was playing it cool. Well, so was he. He wasn’t looking for a lot, just a nice woman to spend time with, not some crazy broad who was always on the attack.
“You okay?” Sid said to him.
“No.”
“Look, she’s just a girl trying to make a date with a guy and—”
“There was no flat tire,” he said. “She lured me away from my beer and my meal to get me alone in the dark and threw herself on me. I had to peel her off me. It was terrible. I know guys who would have jumped at the opportunity but there’s something seriously off about her. If a man had done that to a woman, he’d be arrested. I don’t know how to make it any more clear—I’m not interested in getting to know Neely any better, or Alyssa for that matter. Both of them creep me out. And put me in a bad mood.”
Sid stared at him, transfixed for a moment. “Whew,” she finally said.
“It was awful,” he said, picking up an onion ring. “I’d never do that to a person. There’s this thing called manners. And personal space. You know?”
“I know,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said, chewing on an onion ring. “I got pissed off.”
“I understand completely.” She picked up his beer and dumped it. “That got a little warm while you were breathing fire,” she said, getting him a new frosty mug and fresh beer. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he said.
He nursed it slowly, done flirting for the night. In fact, he might be done for all time. He was a little surprised by the turn of events. He’d been on the receiving end of some blatant come-ons in his day but he could usually discourage the idea without anyone being hurt or becoming angry.
He finished his beer and stood to get his wallet.
Sid was in front of him with his check. “Two beers and a burger,” she said in her usual businesslike tone. “And here is where I’ll be on Saturday night if you still feel like coffee,” she said, handing him a second slip of paper. There was an address on it. He raised his eyes to hers. “You’ll be perfectly safe. Besides, that shade of red does nothing for my coloring.” Then she grinned.
“I don’t want your pity,” he said, but he said it with humor in his tone.
“Good. Seven o’clock.”
He walked to his car thinking that yes, she felt sorry for him. He was clearly insulted and angry about being played as he was. But that was okay. Even though it hadn’t been a strategy of his, he was willing to take advantage of the situation. And over coffee he would charm her and make her laugh. It was with this very hopeful and encouraged feeling that his SUV came into view.
All four tires were flat.
He looked around to see if anyone was there. Neely’s car was gone and the small parking lot behind the diner was quiet. He looked at the other cars—tires all fine. Then he went back to the sidewalk, where it was well lit. He pulled out his phone and called Cal.
“Hey,” Cal said.
“Hey. I’ve never done this before. Called my big brother when something happened.”
“Hmm. What happened?”
“I’m in town. I was having a burger at the bar and grill—Rob’s place two doors down from the diner. A woman asked me to help her with a flat tire, and when I went with her, there was no flat, just a very eager woman. So I extricated myself, but it was awkward—I must have offended her. Now, I find my tires are all flat.” He took a breath. “I guess I have to find a tow truck...”
“Sheesh,” Cal said, sounding more alert. “You know this woman?”
“Just her first name. I thought she was a nice woman, but her come-on could use a little polish...”
“You think she did it?” Cal asked.
“Doesn’t that seem a little extreme?”
“You have to call the police before you call the tow truck. And I’ll come and pick you up.”
“I can handle this myself...”
“You want the next guy who’s not interested in her to get four flat tires?”
“We don’t know for sure that she did it,” Dakota said.
“Sounds like we do, we just can’t prove who did it. Call the police, tell them what happened, ask them what towing service they recommend.”
“Aww,” Dakota groaned.
“This is Timberlake, Cody,” Cal said. “We don’t experience a lot of that sort of thing. If you don’t say anything, another guy could be vandalized. Or maybe she’ll try something bigger on you.”
“I think I’d rather just handle this...”
“Now you sound like a woman,” Cal said. “I want you to think about that. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
The notion that women don’t report crimes because they’re afraid or they just want to forget it happened and hope it won’t happen ever again had briefly crossed his mind, but he’d pushed it away. There was also a certain amount of humiliation involved in being victimized. Victimized and then tattling.
He wouldn’t have called Cal if he hadn’t been looking for someone to cut through his bullshit. Of course it was Neely. Of course she shouldn’t be pulling that shit. Then his mind wandered further. He didn’t want Sid to know. He didn’t want to seem less than strong.
The way a woman didn’t want her boyfriend or husband to know she’d been assaulted because she wouldn’t want him to think she was dirty? Or think she’d brought it on herself?
Cal arrived before the deputy. “Show me the damage,” he said. Once he’d checked out the car, he said, “That took a lot of effort. Look out for this one—she’s mean.”
* * *
To Dakota’s relief, only one tire on his SUV was slashed; the rest were merely deflated. Odd that he should have that in common with Neely—deflating tires to prove a point. And it gave him no peace of mind to know she was traveling around with some dangerous sharp object. He thought about the incident a great deal more than he wanted to. The vandalism would probably just be a misdemeanor. He tried to imagine her in her fancy clothes and boots crouching in the dark, manipulating the air out of the tires.
His insurance company covered the tow but he had to get Cal to drive him to work early in the morning. He was pretty angry about the whole thing.
But by Saturday he was looking forward to seeing Sid. After work he plugged the address Sid had given him into his GPS. He focused not on his unpleasant experience with Neely but rather on going to some coffee shop in Colorado Springs where he would concentrate on demonstrating how desirable he was. He would find out more about Sidney, entertain her with stories of his world travels and, if necessary, exploit his actions as a soldier and hero. He never did that first. He always saved that as a last resort.
He looked around but couldn’t find the address she’d given him. The directions were clear but he had trouble believing they were correct. He hadn’t been to Colorado Springs before but he had trouble envisioning Sid inviting him to a trashy side of town. Please, God, don’t let Sid be a whack job! One is enough.
He drove around the block but no coffee shop turned up. There wasn’t even a Denny’s or truck stop. He finally bit the bullet and took the slip of paper she’d given him and, after locking his car, went into the only place on the block that appeared to be open. It was pretty run-down, had a big cross on the door and the sign, which could not be seen in the dark, said Free Dinner.
He thought it might be a storefront church of some kind and they would at least know the neighborhood. He walked inside and discovered it was a soup kitchen. He had to weave his way through people standing in some kind of line to find whoever was in charge to get better directions. Then he saw her.
Sid was standing behind a serving counter, smiling like she’d never been happier. She wore a green apron, a scarf covering her hair, and rubber gloves, and wielded a big spoon. He chuckled and shook his head. He cut the line to walk up to her.
“Coffee?” he said, giving her his best smile.
“Glad you made it,” she said. “Clay? Give this man an apron and show him what to do!”
A man travels the world over in search of
what he needs, and returns home to find it.
—GEORGE MOORE
5 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
DAKOTA FELT AS though he’d been tricked again, but this time in a good way. It took him about five minutes to get into the idea of serving free food. The clientele was as varied as the human race. There were a few grizzled old men—or maybe they were only grizzled and not so much old as worn down. A pair of elderly women came in together and passed through the line with their trays. He served a family of six, the oldest child no more than ten. There were several families, not always with both parents. A young man was there with his toddler son, who sat on his lap the whole time. He spotted a young couple, maybe twenty years old, followed by a few kids being led by what could only have been a big sister. A couple of boys around twelve came in with no adult. Then a vet, wearing a purple heart on his denim vest. To him, Dakota said, “Greetings, brother. Thank you for your service.” More old men and women arrived and he wondered which were street people and which were merely poor. A few people came in over the course of a couple of hours who Dakota realized were not in reality and he thought this was what his father would have become without the anchor of his wife and family.
While a few looked as though they could benefit from some drug or another there were also those who appeared to have benefited too much. They were of every race and ethnic group—black, white, Hispanic, Middle Eastern, even a man with a strong Australian accent who said, “Thank ya, mate.”
They had only one obvious thing in common. They were hungry.
Once the food had all been served, the next step was the inevitable cleanup. That was when Dakota became acquainted with some of the volunteers. Sid introduced him to a sixty-eight-year-old woman in jeans and a flannel shirt. “Dakota, meet Sister Mary Jacob,” she said.
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Robyn Carr
#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHORSULLIVANS’ CROSSING: BOOK THREECan he overcome the past?Dakota Jones had a difficult upbringing but he escaped to the military as soon as he could. Now, after several tours of duty he has finally been discharged.Refusing to return home he arrives in Sullivan's Crossing where his brother Cal and sister Sierra have found a home. Nestled at the crossroads of the Colorado and Continental Divide Trails, the area attracts those looking for answers or direction or a new lease on life. Dakota will come to terms with his less-than-perfect family and will plant the roots he's never had.Readers love Robyn Carr:‘Lovely book from a lovely series’‘Robyn Carr reflects real life wonderfully’‘fascinating and heartwarming characters and a stunning setting’‘a must-read for fans of contemporary romance’
An exceptional storyteller, #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr beautifully captures the emotionally charged, complex dynamics that come with being part of any family. Readers will laugh and shed a few tears as they discover what it means to be loved, supported and accepted by the people who mean the most.
Having left the military, Dakota Jones is at a crossroads in his life. With his elder brother and youngest sister happily settled in Sullivan’s Crossing, he shows up hoping to clear his head before moving on to his next adventure. But, like every visitor to the Crossing, he’s immediately drawn to the down-to-earth people and the seemingly simple way of life.
Dakota is unprepared for how quickly things get complicated. As a newcomer, he is on everyone’s radar—especially the single women in town. While he enjoys the attention at first, he’s really only attracted to the one woman who isn’t interested. And spending quality time with his siblings is eye-opening. As he gets to know them, he also gets to know himself and what he truly wants.
When all the Jones siblings gather for a family wedding, the four adults are drawn together for the first time in a way they never were as children. As they struggle to accept each other, warts and all, the true nature and strength of their bond is tested. But all of them come to realize that your family are the people who see you for who you really are and love you anyway. And for Dakota, that truth allows him to find the home and family he’s always wanted.
Also available from ROBYN CARR (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
Sullivan’s Crossing
ANY DAY NOW
WHAT WE FIND
Thunder Point
WILDEST DREAMS
A NEW HOPE
ONE WISH
THE HOMECOMING
THE PROMISE
THE CHANCE
THE HERO
THE NEWCOMER
THE WANDERER
Virgin River
MY KIND OF CHRISTMAS
SUNRISE POINT
REDWOOD BEND
HIDDEN SUMMIT
BRING ME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
HARVEST MOON
WILD MAN CREEK
PROMISE CANYONn
MOONLIGHT ROAD
ANGEL’S PEAK
FORBIDDEN FALLS
PARADISE VALLEY
TEMPTATION RIDGE
SECOND CHANCE PASS
A VIRGIN RIVER CHRISTMAS
WHISPERING ROCK
SHELTER MOUNTAIN
VIRGIN RIVER
Grace Valley
DEEP IN THE VALLEY
JUST OVER THE MOUNTAIN
DOWN BY THE RIVER
Novels
THE SUMMER THAT MADE US
THE LIFE SHE WANTS
FOUR FRIENDS
A SUMMER IN SONOMA
NEVER TOO LATE
SWEPT AWAY (formerly titled RUNAWAY MISTRESS)
BLUE SKIES
THE WEDDING PARTY
THE HOUSE ON OLIVE STREET
The Family Gathering
Robyn Carr
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018
Copyright © Robyn Carr 2018
Robyn Carr asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9781474082051
For Dr. Kochy Tang
with grateful thanks for the tender loving care and special friendship.
Contents
Cover (#u529a0b44-f60b-51c1-b6a6-61d8af724c81)
Back Cover Text (#ua3ce6e5b-f66c-5ea4-aecc-fb6656451c94)
Booklist (#u691d54ca-db64-55c8-9974-6c541b9aea20)
Title Page (#uf5f752f4-ac5c-5820-84a0-fbf50acc51ef)
Copyright (#u67299163-e684-550f-ad8c-c9e6c1403833)
Dedication (#uac7172ae-20ba-5982-9ec2-123d50a5ad86)
Epigraph 1 (#u4ded102f-178a-564e-a940-867617a0070a)
Chapter 1 (#u76be1606-df9a-57c5-bb01-a2728dc5b79e)
Epigraph 2 (#ue2b78db0-1419-5e1c-b373-a22cb309d354)
Chapter 2 (#u7452d838-8814-58c9-abe9-21f8672f028c)
Epigraph 3 (#uf9fe5cff-d54d-52ed-a0c6-153865aa28a9)
Chapter 3 (#u3b422682-b380-5bf7-9985-9ecaf3fd75b0)
Epigraph 4 (#u3b94161a-5e1c-577c-b7c5-c676b51372cc)
Chapter 4 (#u0f0178a7-ab0f-5ae8-80ee-fe2892462c3b)
Epigraph 5 (#u1964dfa4-0a30-599a-93fd-793da298daef)
Chapter 5 (#u5e99dedd-e5c5-5f72-ac41-43c10cf59d29)
Epigraph 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
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Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
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Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
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Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
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Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
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Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
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Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epigraph 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
In our family, we don’t hide crazy...we put it
on the porch and give it a cocktail.
—ANONYMOUS
1 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
DAKOTA JONES PULLED right up to the barn that was now a house, and parked beside his brother’s truck. He left his duffel in the Jeep SUV and went to the door. He stood in indecision for a moment—they had a six-month-old baby. He knocked rather than ring the bell, just in case the child was sleeping. A few moments later, he knocked again. And a third time. Finally the door opened.
“Dakota!” Cal said with a grin. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by way of Australia. It’s a long story—”
“I can’t wait to hear what that’s about,” Cal said. “Want to come in or stand out there awhile longer?”
“I don’t want to wake the baby,” Dakota said.
“The baby is in Denver with Maggie. They’ll be back tonight.”
“That sounds like an interesting arrangement,” Dakota said.
“Like a tug-of-war, my friend. Something to drink?” Cal offered. “Food?”
“A cold beer would be nice.” He looked around. The place was beautiful, but that came as no surprise. Cal’s house with his first wife had been a showplace. Given the way the Jones siblings had grown up, something like a good, solid house that a person was proud to come home to would fill a need that had been neglected when they were kids. Cal put a beer in Dakota’s hand. “The place looks great,” Dakota said.
But Cal didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “What were you doing in Australia?”
“I’d never been there,” he said. “I wanted to walkabout. That’s when—”
Cal cut him off with a laugh. “I know what a walkabout is.” He tilted his beer toward Dakota in a toast. “I’ve never seen you with that much hair. On your face and everything.”
Dakota stroked his beard. “I could probably use a trim.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on before Maggie and Elizabeth get home.”
“Well, in Australia I visited one of the Rangers I served with years ago and together we checked in on another one. Then, with some input from them, I hit out on the trail for about a month, seeing some of the country, camping, fishing, practicing the identification and avoidance of snakes and crocodiles—”
“I meant, the Army! You’re out? I knew you weren’t happy there anymore. You said we’d talk about it someday.”
“I wasn’t sure where I’d end up but I was sure I’d get out here for a visit. With you and Sierra here and a new baby—I wanted to at least drop by.”
Cal sighed. “Dakota. The Army.”
“Well, I’m a little surprised I was in as long as I was. I never intended to make it a career. I wanted their offer of free travel and education.”
Cal just lifted one brow. Free travel? To a variety of war zones?
Dakota grinned. “I had a small disagreement with a colonel. We didn’t see things the same way. Apparently I was insubordinate. It was time to think about doing something new.”
“Were you honorably discharged?” Cal asked, pushing him.
Dakota shook his head. “But I wasn’t dishonorably discharged.”
He was simply discharged, but that said something. You had to screw up pretty bad to not get an honorable discharge.
“What’d you do?” Cal asked.
“I disagreed with his forward action and told him it would get people killed. Rangers—it could get Rangers killed. I had ten or a hundred times the experience he had but he was in competition with me or something because he was hell-bent to drive five of our best Rangers right into the known hotbed of ISIS training and it was going to get people dead. I think they plucked that idiot out of the motor pool and put him in charge of a unit. I overrode his orders and he threatened me with jail. I thought that it was probably time for a career change.”
“They sent you home?” Cal asked. “You must have done something even worse than disagree for them to send you home!”
Dakota squirmed. “I was acting in the best interest of my men.”
“What’d you do?” Dakota didn’t answer. “You hit him or something?”
“No, my guys wouldn’t let me do that,” he said. Then he hung his head briefly. “I let the air out of the tires until I could get in touch with another colonel I know who could try to intercede with the orders that would put us directly in harm’s way.”
“Jeeps?” Cal asked.
“No. MRAPs.”
“MRAPs?”
“Mine resistant assault protective vehicles. The big ones.”
“Those big mammoth desert beasts with tires taller than I am?” Cal asked. “How the hell do you let the air out of those?”
“With a .45,” he said softly. “Or M16.”
“You shot out the tires? How is it you’re not in jail?”
“I was. Good behavior,” he said. “And it was determined the colonel was incompetent and had done even worse things before. Cal, he was crazy. Homicidal. He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t a Ranger—he had very little combat experience. He was a joke. I wasn’t going to let him get any more people killed.”
They sat in heavy silence for a little while, each tilting their beer bottle a couple of times. Finally Dakota broke the silence.
“Listen, it happens in the military sometimes. They take a guy who just made rank and give him a unit to command and sometimes the fit is bad. A buddy of mine, a doctor, his boss had no experience in the medical corps. He was a pilot. And he was making decisions for a bunch of doctors and a hospital that were dangerous to the patients, but he wouldn’t compromise, he wouldn’t listen to reason, he wouldn’t ask for advice. According to my friend, people were left untreated, in pain, mishandled. A whole fleet of doctors mutinied and the colonel retaliated. That kind of thing doesn’t happen all that often—usually there’s at least one clear head in the game...” He took a breath. “They got my guy from the knitting battalion, I think. Jesus, I’ve worked for a few dipshits, but this one was exceptional.”
“But you got out. With three years to retirement.”
“Yeah, I have plenty of time for my next career move,” he said. Then he grinned. “I’m still a kid.”
“So you went walkabout,” Cal said with a laugh. “Proving you’re just like the rest of us?”
“You did it after Lynne’s death. And it worked. But why? That’s my question. Why do we wander? It was the wandering while we were growing up that I hated the most.”
* * *
Dakota’s parents thought of themselves as wanderers. Or hippies. Or new age thinkers, whatever. What they really were was a father who was schizophrenic, often delusional and paranoid, and a mother who was his keeper and protector. They took their four children with them as they roamed the country in a van and then later a school bus converted into an RV. They made regular stops at their grandparents’ farm in Iowa and finally lived there full-time when Dakota was twelve, Cal, the oldest, was sixteen and their two sisters, Sedona and Sierra, were fourteen and ten.
Cal was still patient and understanding with their parents, with the father who wouldn’t consider medication that would make him functional, or at least more functional. He was even tender with them. Sedona acted responsibly toward them in a kind but businesslike way, visiting regularly and making sure they weren’t in need or in trouble. Sierra, the baby of the family, was mostly confused by how they chose to live. But Dakota? He’d spent much of his childhood not going to school, taking his lessons in a bus from his mother. The whole family worked when there was work, mostly harvesting vegetables with other migrant workers. When they did settle in Iowa on his grandparents’ farm, he went to school full-time. He’d taken a lot of bullying in junior high and high school because his parents, Jed and Marissa, were so weird. Dakota was ashamed of them. They made no sense to him. Dakota was decisive and action-oriented and would have gotten old Jed on meds or kicked him out, but instead his mother coddled him, shielded him, let him have his way even though his way was crazy. So Dakota had been a loner. He’d had very few friends.
Dakota left the second he could, right after high school graduation when he was seventeen. He enlisted in the Army and had visited his parents about four times since. Each time he went back to that farm in Iowa they seemed more weird than the time before. He rarely called. They had apparently hardly noticed.
He also protected himself against anyone getting too close while he waited to see if he was going to become mentally ill, as well. At thirty-five, he was now pretty sure he was safe from that. And, after all this time, his independent and aloof behavior was accepted by his brother and sisters.
It was easy to remain unattached in the military. He had friends whose company he enjoyed but there were very few with whom he had really bonded and their bond was one of military brothers. He would join the guys for a few beers, as he was regularly included in social events—parties, outings to the lake, ski trips, whatever his group was doing—and he was called, You know, Dakota, the bachelor.
There were women, of course. Dakota loved women. He just wasn’t the type to make long-term commitments to anyone, especially girlfriends. Even if he was with a certain woman for a while, he wasn’t exactly coupled. Well, there was one, but it had been so brief, and had ended so tragically, it reminded him that it was better not to get too involved. He wasn’t the marrying kind. He was better off on his own. He was never lonely, never bored. The way he played it he didn’t have to explain where he came from, how he grew up, how bizarre his family was. In seventeen years in the Army he had never met a guy who grew up like him—essentially homeless, raised in a bus by a couple of wackos.
But recently, something had changed for him. It was slow. Subtle. Cal lost his wife and then, two years later, remarried. Maggie, a neurosurgeon of all things, was awesome. Now they had a baby, were a family. Cal had never shied from commitment, as if very confident he’d be a better family man than his father was. Their little sister had joined Cal in Timberlake and was also settling down. Sierra had hooked up with a firefighter, a fantastic guy. Connie, short for Conrad, was smart, physical, loyal, the kind of guy he admired. Dakota knew in five minutes that Connie had integrity. And watching the way Sierra was with him almost made Dakota long for something like that. Sedona had been married since right after college, had a couple of kids, was by all accounts living a normal life. So far none of them had decided to live in a bus like their parents had. Little by little it had begun to tease his mind that possibly he could have a normal adult life. Maybe he could actually have friends and family and not have to protect himself from being himself.
But he was damn sure taking it slow.
* * *
Cal called everyone. Sierra and Connie came straight over with their golden retriever, Molly. Maggie’s father, Sully, came after he had closed up the general store at his campground, Sullivan’s Crossing. Maggie arrived with the baby and walked into a party atmosphere.
Since Dakota’s arrival was unannounced and Cal wasn’t prepared, everyone brought something to the table. Sierra had a platter of chicken breasts swimming in barbecue sauce and a big seven-layer salad, Connie brought beer and some of the cold green tea Sierra favored. Sully brought some broccoli sealed in a foil with garlic, olive oil, onions, mushrooms and pepperoncinis. They put it on the grill with the chicken. Cal supplied baked potatoes.
“How long are you staying?” Sierra wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” Dakota said. “I’ve been using the last few months to explore.”
“Unfortunately, ain’t nothin’ to explore around here,” Sully said.
“Oh, Cody,” Sierra said, using his nickname from when they were kids. “Don’t listen to Sully! I think I got my brain back hiking around here. Cal did the CDT for a month.”
Dakota raised his eyebrows. “Did I know that?” he asked.
“I can’t remember. But yes, I took the Continental Divide Trail north from Sully’s place. I walked and camped for about two and a half weeks, then turned around and came back.”
“Because I was here,” Maggie said with a smile and lift of her chin. “And he wanted me. Bad.”
“I wish I could do that,” Connie said. “Longest I’ve been out there is four days. Sierra, we gotta do that. Go out there for a couple of months.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m so addicted to daily showers...”
“I have to decide where I’m going to stop exploring,” Dakota said.
“As in, settle down?” Cal asked.
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he said. “After the Army? I might not have the temperament for staying in one place.”
“Are you going to hang around at least awhile?” Sierra asked hopefully.
“You bet,” he said. “I’ll be around awhile. Maybe I can help out.”
“You can babysit,” Cal said.
“Now, that’s one thing I’m pretty sure I can’t do,” Dakota said. “I’m good with kids, but it’s best if they’re college graduates.”
There was a round of moans and laughter.
By nine o’clock Sully had gone back to the Crossing, Maggie and Elizabeth had gone to bed and it was only Sierra, Connie, Cal and Dakota. The men were having one more beer. Sierra, in recovery, a year and a half sober, was drinking her green tea.
“I’ll have to go to two meetings tomorrow after spending the night with you big drinkers,” she said.
Cal laughed at her. “Three of us had eight beers in six hours. As celebrations go, it was pretty tame.”
“If it bothers you...” Dakota began.
“It doesn’t,” she said. “But I’m going to feel a lot better than you tomorrow morning.”
“Since you’re going to feel so good tomorrow, want to take me out on the trail?” Dakota asked. Molly rose from her sleeping spot, shook herself awake and leaned against Dakota’s thigh. Waiting. “Does this one go hiking?”
“Sometimes I take Molly and Beau, Sully’s lab. But I can only stay out there a couple of hours at most if they’re with me.” She stood. “I’ll come for you at 8:20. Come on, Connie. Time to put the baby to bed.”
Dakota and Cal snapped to attention.
“Molly,” she said. “I meant Molly.”
“Shew,” Dakota said. “If there was another one, I was going to run for my life!”
“There’s just Elizabeth,” Sierra said. “And they won’t commit to whether they’ll add to the family. And I’m definitely not in the game.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Duh. Our crazy father and his genetic code, for one thing. Come on, Connie. It’s past our bedtime.”
Dakota looked at his watch. “This is a real lively crowd,” he said, standing to say good-night. He kissed his sister’s cheek. “See you in the morning. By the way, you’re looking good.”
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “So are you. A little shaggy, but good.”
Dakota flashed her a grin. Behind his dark beard, it was dazzling.
Sierra combed her fingers along his cheeks, through his beard. “Little gray coming in here, Cody.”
“I earned it,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning.”
* * *
In the seventeen years since Dakota left his family behind for the Army, the time he spent with them was infrequent and brief. Cal and Sedona tried to keep up with him. He visited them for important events—Cal’s wedding to Lynne, then his wedding to Maggie. When Sedona’s children were born, he checked in. He never stayed long. Sierra, who was so special to him, had been a wild card until she found sobriety. He had visited for a couple of days at a time, that’s all. He didn’t want to get too attached to them.
This time was different. The second, third and fourth days came and went. He hiked with Sierra, then Cal, then just the dogs. He dug out Sully’s garden for spring planting. They repaired the grills and picnic tables and talked all the while. Sully was very cool for an old guy. He admitted he came home from Vietnam with some PTSD and asked how Dakota had fared in that regard. “Oh, I’ve got PTSD all right,” Dakota said. “Probably more from my personal life than my military experience.”
“Then aren’t you one of the lucky ones,” Sully said.
Dakota cleaned out the gutters around Sully’s house and store and threw the balls for the dogs. Then he had to bathe the dogs because it had rained and they got into the freshly turned soil and compost in the garden. While hanging out at the Crossing he met Tom Canaday, the guy who helped Cal renovate the barn that was now his stunning house. Tom was Sully’s good friend and part-time handyman, a single dad with two kids in college and two still in high school. When Tom told him all the jobs he’d had while raising his kids, Dakota was inspired.
Maybe it wasn’t necessary for him to make big, permanent decisions about what to do for work or where to settle. Maybe he could coast for a little while. “Think a guy like me could work on a road crew?” he asked Tom. “Or haul trash?”
Tom laughed. “A vet who served? Who has ties to the town? Hell, Dakota, anyone would hire you. I’ll give you a recommendation. You just have to decide what you want to do. I’ve been working for the county for almost twenty years.”
“I should probably pick up trash,” he said. “Penance for all my misdeeds.”
“Misdeeds?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Cal said you were a decorated soldier.”
“I just about undecorated myself before it was all over,” he said. He scratched his beard. “I guess I should get a haircut. Do I need to lose the beard?”
Tom laughed. “This is Colorado, man. You look homegrown.”
“Good. I’ve grown kind of attached.” He grinned. “So to speak.”
“I’ll find out what they’re hiring for and get you an application.”
When he went home from Sully’s after a productive day, he found Cal in his home office, just hanging up the phone.
“So, you’re still here,” Cal said. “It’s been five days. I think that’s a record.”
“Am I getting underfoot?” Dakota asked.
“I’ve hardly noticed you,” he said. “You feeling underfoot?”
Dakota shook his head, leaning against the door frame.
“Baby bothering you?” Cal asked.
“The baby is kind of awesome,” Dakota said. “I’m not babysitting, however.”
Cal laughed. “We managed before you arrived, we’ll continue to manage.”
“So, what if I hung around?” he asked.
“What if?” Cal returned.
“Would that be weird for you?”
“Nah. I actually like you. Sort of.” Then he sobered. “You’re welcome here, Dakota. And thanks for helping Sully. It’s appreciated.”
“Everyone was helping him get the grounds ready, but I think now it’s going to rain. For days.”
“That’s what I hear,” Cal said. “Every March the rain comes, every March Sully gets the campground ready for summer. Well, spring and summer. We all help out. It wasn’t expected of you, so thanks. Now what?”
“Well,” he said, scratching his chin. “I’m going to get a haircut, trim the beard a little, get a job, look for a place to live...”
“I’m not throwing you out,” Cal said. “If you can live with Elizabeth, you can stay here. The rent’s cheap.”
“Elizabeth is a hoot,” he said. “I thought I’d rent something because it’s what I do. That doesn’t mean I won’t hang out with you sometimes.”
“This sounds kind of long-term,” Cal said.
“For me,” Dakota clarified. “A few months, anyway. I like the Crossing, the trails, the lake, the people. Seems like a good place to collect my thoughts.”
“We’d love it if you were close,” Cal said. “Listen, you okay here by yourself for a few days? It’s time for Maggie to go to Denver again. Three to four days a week she operates and sees patients. She has a babysitter there but I don’t have any clients or court appearances so I’m going along this time. I won’t be back unless someone calls and needs me.”
Dakota laughed and ran a hand over his head. “All this flexibility is giving me a rash. I’m used to a strict routine.”
“Fine,” Cal said. “Have a strict routine, that won’t bother anyone. But Maggie and I have Elizabeth and two careers. Not to mention Sully and a campground. Just let me know if you’re going to be around for a meal, that’s all I need from you. Well, that and if you’re going to stumble in at 3:00 a.m. and make me get out the rifle because I think someone’s breaking in. That would involve communication, Dakota. You haven’t exactly excelled in that.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said. “You have my cell number, right?”
“You have enough money to rent your own place? Because I—”
“I got it,” Dakota said. “And I’ll be sure to call so you can throw another potato in the soup.”
Cal was quiet for a moment. “It’s been good. Having you around,” he finally said.
“I’ll do my best not to screw that up,” Dakota said.
Cal, Maggie and Elizabeth left very early in the morning for Denver. If Dakota understood things correctly, Maggie would go straight to work, seeing patients all morning, then operating all afternoon, then repeating that cycle again and again. One week it would be three long days, the next week it would be four days. Once a month she would be on call to the emergency room, adding a fifth day to her cycle. And Cal, a criminal defense attorney, was seeing clients in his home office or other meeting places—the diner, the Crossing on Sully’s porch, the bookstore—and for anything from wills to real estate deals. Once in a while he actually got someone out of jail. Dakota filed that information away in case he needed it.
That left Dakota on his own for a few days. And as Sully had predicted, it rained. And rained.
He dropped into a real estate office and picked up a flyer of local rental properties, then headed for a haircut. He looked up and down the street and found that the barbershop was closed so he dropped in to the beauty shop. Fancy Cuts. He stepped inside the door and spied six chairs and three clients with hair stylists. He flashed that million-watt smile of his and said, “I’m not looking for anything real fancy, but can you handle a head and a beard left unattended awhile?”
Less than a moment passed. A beautiful young woman took a step toward him. “I’ve got this,” she said confidently to the other stylists, both older women. “Give me five minutes. Have a seat.”
She went back to her client, an elderly woman whose hair seemed to be a mass of pink sausages. “You can’t be done in five minutes,” the client said a bit more loudly than necessary.
“Oh, yes, I will,” said the beauty. “And you’ll love it.”
“Well, it better not be—”
The stylist applied a brush and went to town. She fluffed out the woman’s hair, did a little backcombing and shaping, sprayed some spray.
Dakota picked up a magazine and idly paged through it. Good oral hygiene had never served him better. In five minutes he was in the chair with the beautiful Alyssa running a comb casually through his dark hair. “What are we doing with you today?”
Dakota was suddenly conscious of how long it had been since he’d had sex. “Nothing special,” he said. Up against the wall work for you? “Just trim it up, and can you trim the beard? Not Hollywood, just not Duck Dynasty.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, showing him a brilliant smile of her own. “Let’s start with a good shampoo. Right this way.”
He didn’t mention he’d already done that in his morning shower but instead let her lead him to the back. While she massaged his scalp and quizzed him, he just let his eyes close gently. He had a brother not so far from here, he said. He was just out of the Army and planned on exploring the country a little, starting here. He liked to fish and hike. He wasn’t making any plans for a while. He was deliberately vague. This was a small town. He didn’t want to do or say anything that might reflect badly on Cal or Sierra and all those attached. Until he got the lay of the land, he’d be a little mysterious.
But her fingers in his hair felt amazing. “You married, Alyssa?” he asked in a soft, smoky voice.
“Still waiting for the right guy, Dakota,” she whispered back. “Do you have a lot of friends around here?” she asked, smothering his head with a towel and leading him back to her station.
“My brother’s friends,” he said with a shrug. “A few nice people.”
“No girlfriend?”
He met her eyes in the mirror. “No girlfriend.”
“I take that to mean there’s no wife or fiancée, either?” she asked.
He shook his head, feeling like great sex could be minutes away. It was a feeling, not something he’d act on. This was Cal and Sierra’s town. Hit-and-run wouldn’t work. The repercussions could make life difficult for people he cared about and he wouldn’t risk it. But this Alyssa, long-legged, beautiful, friendly, ready—this held great promise. He might have found himself a woman to pass the time with. It was worth considering. And it was worth slowing down and using caution.
“You know your way around a pair of scissors,” he said, looking in the mirror. The haircut was excellent; the beard was looking good.
“You okay with the gray?” she asked. “Because if you’re not...”
“I think it’s fine,” he said. “I earned every one.”
“That’s good, because I like it. It’s very attractive.”
“Are you buttering me up for a good tip?” he teased.
“You’re kidding, right? Since you’re new to the area, could you use someone to show you around?”
“That might come in handy,” he said. “Right now I have somewhere I have to be. Maybe you’d trust me with your phone number?”
“Sure,” she said. She waited for him to get out his phone, then rattled off the digits. “I’d be more than happy to. This is a great little town. Full of possibilities.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Well, Alyssa, thanks for a good job. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
He paid in cash; the tip was excellent. He put on his jacket, turned the collar up and walked out into the rain. He went down the block and across the street to the diner. Sierra was working today. He’d have lunch and show her his flyer of rental properties.
Dakota took a booth at the diner and let Sierra wait on him. He ordered a bowl of soup, half a sandwich and a coffee. It wasn’t long before Sierra slid into the booth with a slice of blueberry pie.
“Is that for me?” he asked.
She looked at it for a second. “Yes,” she said. Then she went back behind the counter and got another slice of pie, making him laugh at her.
“You’re so thoughtful,” he said.
“I am,” she said. “In the early summer we have rhubarb pie and rhubarb cobbler. I think this year I’m going to learn to bake.”
“When are you going to learn to get married?” he asked. “Seems like six months ago Connie asked us all if we would give consent and I guess I thought...”
“Well, you old fogy, you.” She grinned at him. “We keep meaning to plan something. Hey, Cal’s gone, right? Connie’s off tonight. It’s going to be cold and rainy. We’re having a fire and soup. Wanna come over?”
“I don’t know. Is there any nightlife around here?” he asked.
“Yeah—at our house. Fire and soup. Connie’s cooking. It’s amazing. Firemen are excellent cooks. Maybe if you’re very good, we’ll put on a movie. Or play a board game.”
He gave her a steady look. “I don’t think it’s going to take me long to get really bored.”
“You coming?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug.
Blood is thicker than water.
—GERMAN PROVERB
2 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
DAKOTA HAD LOOKED at three potential rental properties after lunch. They were adequate but a little large for just one guy and none of them felt right. He made an appointment with a property manager for the next morning and he looked at four more rentals. The last one was in the country, about ten miles from town. The cabin had a nice big porch. It was on a hillside and a creek ran past. There was a small bridge crossing the creek. “The creek swells in spring and early summer,” the agent said. “It was built as a vacation cabin. The owner liked to fish. He claimed the fishing was good in that creek.”
Dakota asked if they could go inside. It was a decent size, probably nine hundred square feet. There were two bedrooms, one medium-size bath, a galley kitchen and a nice big table, sofa and chair all in the great room. There was no TV but there was a desk. “Does it come furnished?” he asked.
“It can,” the agent said. “The owner is deceased and the heirs are letting it go. Our office is managing the property for now. We’re prepared to remove what you don’t want, leave what you can use. There’s no washer or dryer.”
“I hate doing laundry,” he said, smiling at her. In fact, he had both a brother and a sister with machines he could borrow. And there was always commercial laundry. “How much?”
“It’s pricey,” she said. And indeed, it was more than the larger houses he’d looked at. It was quaint. Rustic. There was a stone fireplace. The appliances looked fairly new, maybe a couple of years old. “It’s kind of isolated,” she said. “The water heater is new, the roof is in good repair, everything in the kitchen is functional. Even the ice maker.”
He didn’t say anything. He just walked around, touching the leather sofa, opening the kitchen cabinets. He lay down on the bed. He wasn’t sure about the mattress yet—it might need to be upgraded. He’d brought only clothes and vital papers with him to Colorado. It looked pretty well stocked. Based on what he saw, he could fry an egg, microwave a meal, dry off after a shower. He could get himself a small grill. He might trade out the linens for new but it was in good shape. Better than some Army quarters he’d stayed in.
Then he stepped back outside onto the porch. There, on the other side of the creek, he saw deer. A buck, a couple of does and a very new fawn. One doe looked ready to give birth. He looked around the porch. “It needs a good chair.”
“There isn’t one but you could pick one up pretty cheap.”
“I’ll take it,” he said.
There was a rental agreement to sign and the property manager had to run him through a credit check. Fortunately, he knew his credit was excellent, and even though he’d been in the brig and stood a court-martial, he learned when he purchased the Jeep that his military incarceration didn’t show up in civilian records. “You just tell me when you’re ready for me to sign papers. You have my cell number.”
He was oddly euphoric about this cabin in the woods. A man could sit quietly on that porch and watch nature, watch wildlife. He imagined that in the dark of night he would hear wildlife and in the morning, birds. He would be busy because he liked being busy, but he would thoroughly enjoy relaxing in a small, isolated cabin. He’d like sleeping there. He’d like listening to the rain there.
He hadn’t really imagined this scenario—that he’d come to Colorado and get his own place and be within a short drive of family. Actual family. He thought he’d visit, check them out, maybe stay a little longer than was typical for him, then press on. But then, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He’d left his Army family. Where else would he turn? Even though Dakota was independent, he liked having people in his life. There had always been soldiers. He took good care of them, they took good care of him.
And something had changed with his siblings. Or with him. For the first time he considered them friends, not just family he was stuck with. He’d never been good about keeping in touch and the Army had always provided him with plenty of excuses. If he didn’t feel like checking in with them, then the Army, he could say, had other plans for him and he couldn’t get away. At the moment, for whatever reason, he wanted to be around them. Could it be they’d finally all grown up?
He went to the bar and grill in town for lunch. It looked like the bartender was just coming on duty. She was tying on her apron and talking to another employee, nodding vigorously and smiling. The man put a hand on her shoulder as she tied the last knot in the apron. Then she washed her hands and went behind the bar. “How can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“How about a hamburger, fries and Coke.”
She flipped the menu around for him. “I have seven burgers for you to choose from. We’re famous for them.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked.
She pointed to one of the burgers. “The Juicy Lucy with bacon and pickles, hold the onion. The cheese is on the inside. That’s my meal.”
“Thanks,” he said, squinting at her nametag. “Sid?”
“Sid,” she confirmed. “Short for Sidney. And how would you like that burger cooked?”
“Medium,” he said.
“Excellent,” she said. Then he watched her go to her pay station to punch his order into the computer.
This was his first visit to this pub. It was all dark wood with red leather bar stools and booths, red leather chair seats at the tables. It wasn’t real big but he assumed they could pack ’em in at happy hour. He took the menu and looked through it. The bar was open from eleven to eleven, no breakfast menu. They probably rolled the sidewalks up around here at nine every night. There was nothing fancy on the menu—just burgers, flat bread pizzas, salads, ribs and miscellaneous bar food. They did have a kids’ menu. And chili.
The bar was beautifully crafted, with an ornately carved back wall with a mirror so he could admire himself. He chuckled and took a drink of his Coke, but he was watching Sid. She greeted everyone. One older couple, probably in their seventies, came into the pub and she leaned across the bar to give them each a hug, laughing with them. Everyone knew her, it seemed. And she presided over the bar as her domain. He watched her laughing and talking while throwing together two tall Bloody Marys for her elderly friends. She put them on a tray and walked around the bar to serve them at their booth. She chatted with them for a moment.
Relatives? he wondered.
She brought him his lunch. “It’s going to be hot,” she said. “Enjoy.”
He was immediately disappointed. She was gone so fast.
He took a bite of the hamburger, burned his mouth but wouldn’t let on. He closed his eyes, chewed slowly and swallowed. When he opened his eyes Sid was standing there, smiling at him.
“Burned your mouth, didn’t you?” she said.
He nodded clumsily. “How could you tell?”
“Your eyes. Tears. Slow down, buddy. I’m not going to take it away from you.”
And then she whirled away again. She served up a couple of sodas, two beers and a glass of wine. But she came back.
“Well? How is it?”
“Outstanding,” he said. “As you know. But I would have put a couple of jalapeños on it.”
She tilted her head, thinking about that. “Not a bad idea. I skip the onions so I don’t drive away business.”
“This is a popular place,” he commented, making conversation.
“It’s almost the only game in town. We don’t compete with the diner—they’re better for breakfast, pie, soup, hot meals like roast beef, meat loaf, chicken pot pie. Home cookin’.” She smiled.
“Well, you’re right about the burger. Damn near burned my tongue off,” he added with a laugh. “You seem to know everyone.”
She gave the counter a wipe. “That takes about three days around here. And you’re not from around here.”
“I’m visiting,” he said. “I have some family nearby but today was a good day to look around. Have you been here all your life?”
“Unlike most of the population, no. Not from around here. Born and raised in South Dakota, worked a few years in California and now I’m here for a while.”
“We have that in common,” he said. “What’s ‘a while’ for you?”
She shook her head absently. “It’s been a little over a year so far. I didn’t plan that.”
“What’s holding you?”
“Besides the clean air, views, weather and people?” she asked with a lifted brow. “This is my brother’s place. I intended to help out for a little while, but...” Another shrug. He understood that—his future plans were full of shrugs, too.
“Your brother has a nice little place,” he said.
“So, where do you come from?” she asked.
He stopped himself from wincing. He’d have to remember to ask Sierra and Cal if everyone knew they all grew up in a bus. “I’m fresh out of the Army. I’m going to take a little time to decide what’s next. I’m going to see if there’s any work around here to keep me while I think it out. Like you said, lots to like around here.”
“Army? That’s a big commitment.”
“I went in as a kid,” he said. Then he picked up his burger to avoid explaining any more to this completely pleasant bartender.
“Well, if you like the outdoors, you’ll enjoy your stay.”
A woman sat down at the bar, leaving just a stool to separate them. “Can I get a chicken Caesar?” she asked Sid before Sid even had a chance to greet her.
“You bet. Anything to drink?”
“Water,” she said. And then she was texting on her phone.
He didn’t turn on his stool to look at her, but as he ate his hamburger he caught sight of her in the mirror behind the bar. She was very beautiful, her mahogany hair falling forward as she concentrated on her phone. He bit and chewed, and as his eyes moved just slightly left, he caught sight of Sid, but she shifted her gaze quickly. It made him smile. She was watching him and everyone else. She might have wanted to see how he reacted to the woman beside him.
He looked at Sid. She was in her thirties, he guessed. Her long hair was blond. Or reddish blond. She had that freckly pale skin of an Irish lass. She was quick, physically and verbally. And she didn’t flirt, but she was friendly. Or maybe neighborly was a better word. She treated him like she treated everyone else in the bar.
He was almost finished with his burger by the time Sid placed the salad in front of the woman at the bar. She shook out her napkin, placed it on her lap and picked up her fork. Then she looked at him and smiled. “Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry, I should have been more polite and said hello when I first sat down.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said, picking up a couple of fries. “You were busy. Texting, I assume. Our world’s great new communication tool.”
She laughed lightly. “Actually, checking social media. It’s a convenient way to stay up-to-date on friends and events, et cetera.”
He just nodded and chewed. He’d been able to avoid indulging in the big social media machine. He was guilty of communicating by texts and emails, however.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before,” she said. “I’m Neely.”
“Dakota,” he said, giving her a smile.
“Passing through?” she asked.
He tilted his head and gave that now-automatic shrug. “Visiting,” he said. “I have a brother not far from here. You?”
“Me? I’m a new resident. I have a couple of business interests in town but I actually live in Aurora, not too far from here.”
“Is Aurora a nice place to live?” he asked, shifting the discussion from him.
“It is,” she said, dabbing her lips with her napkin, leaving red lipstick stains on the white cloth. He glanced at Sid and caught her again, watching. “I couldn’t find anything around here I liked but there’s more to choose from in Aurora. And there’s more to do, more restaurants, more shopping, a little more culturally upmarket, more of everything. But then, Timberlake is more of a sportsmen and ranchers and tourists kind of place. Of course, the population is much larger in Aurora. So,” she said, spearing some salad. “Married?”
He chuckled. That was direct. “No,” he said. And he didn’t volley the question back to her.
“And how do you make a living, Mr....?”
“Dakota is fine. I’m just out of the Army. I have an interview with the county. I’m thinking of maybe picking up trash. I hear the benefits are excellent.”
There was a sound from down the bar but Neely didn’t appear to have heard it. Dakota knew where that had come from. Sid was amused. He was sure she’d snickered.
“Sounds like dirty work,” Neely said.
“I hear they give you gloves,” he said. Then he asked himself why he was doing this. She was bold. Bolder even than Alyssa. He must be giving off some kind of scent—available man who is in dire need. “The pay is good,” he added. “And that’s why we have showers.”
“And I’m sure it’s temporary,” she said.
“And how do you make a living?” he asked, and immediately regretted it.
“I’m into a lot of different things. I’ve been lucky. I’m invested in a few businesses and properties. And that, my friend, turns out to be a full-time job.”
“I’m sure,” he said.
“Isn’t this the best little bar?” she asked, to which he agreed. And she commented on this being the best time of year. She asked him if he liked to hunt or fish and he said he hoped to do some of that. She told him, between bites of her salad, that she was reading the most wonderful book about fly-fishing in Montana and she couldn’t believe how much it made her want to try it. He answered her superficial questions without giving away too much personal information. He did not offer to teach her fly-fishing. He didn’t elaborate on his connections here. Until he knew what was going on all around him, he didn’t throw out information.
But he noticed things. She wore very nice clothes—knee-high boots and a brushed-leather skirt. A red sweater that showed off a nice figure. A shawl rather than a jacket. Her watch was expensive looking but he was no expert on women’s jewelry. She had model-quality makeup. And the nails...
If this woman had walked into the officer’s club, he’d have beat everyone to the front of the line to buy her a drink. But here, he just didn’t.
They had a pleasant, meaningless conversation. Sid took his plate, refilled his Coke and put his bill on the bar. Neely took a few more bites of salad and then blotted her lips, looked at her watch and said, “Well, I’m off. Late again.” She fixed her black wrap around her shoulders and stood. “Hey, I have an idea. I have a reservation for one for dinner tonight. A very interesting and cozy little restaurant in Aurora—Henry’s. I’d be pleased to make it for two. Let me take you to dinner as a welcome-to-Colorado gesture. And maybe we’ll get to know each other better.”
“That’s very nice of you,” he said, not standing. “I’m afraid I have plans tonight. But thank you.”
She very confidently turned over the receipt for her lunch, popped out a pen and scribbled on the back. The name of the restaurant and her phone number. Also, 7:00 p.m. “Sometimes plans change,” she said, and then she winked at him.
Really, she winked. This was a moral dilemma. She was sex waiting to happen. He wasn’t above that.
Sid was suddenly standing in front of him. “Can I get you anything else?”
“You were right about the burger,” he said. “Outstanding.”
“You had a good lunch, then,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“It was the most interesting one in Timberlake so far.”
“Oh?” she said, raising her tawny eyebrows.
“You’re not fooling me,” he said. “You heard every word.”
“Oh, of course I didn’t,” she said. “I never do!”
“You’re full of shit, Sid,” he said, grinning. He threw some bills on the bar and told her to keep the change. And he left Neely’s receipt on the bar.
Dakota had a very productive afternoon. He checked on Sully, did a little restocking for him, had coffee with old Frank, who was like a fixture at the store, and saw Sierra when she came by the Crossing to see if she was needed for anything.
“Want to come to dinner tonight?” she asked him. “It’s just me and Molly. I’m thinking grilled cheese and a chick flick.”
“Oh God, that’s so hard to pass up,” he said. “I’m going to take my chances on Cal’s big screen. There has to be something on. Or I could read...”
Sully snorted.
“Hey, I can read!”
“I’m sure you can,” Sully said.
“I guess that was a no,” Sierra said.
“If you want me to come over, I will,” he said.
“As a matter of fact, I enjoy my nights alone with the dog,” she said. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“As a matter of fact, I do okay on my own, too,” he said. But he kissed her forehead in a very sweet big-brotherly fashion.
At six thirty he entered the bar and grill in Timberlake and sat up at the bar. It was only moments before Sid saw him. She pleasured him with a sly half smile. She put down a napkin in front of him. “You’re going to be late.”
“For what?” he asked, showing her his megawatt smile.
“Dinner at the chichi restaurant, which isn’t Henry’s by the way. It’s Hank’s. And it’s expensive. She was buying, you idiot.”
“She winked at me,” he said. “I was terrified.”
She threw her head back, her strawberry blond ponytail rippling in time to her laughter. “I bet you were torn,” she said when she stopped.
“Okay, truth, I thought about it for a second. But my experience is, that is not a good sign. If it’s that bold, it’s loaded. With trouble.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know anything about her.”
He grinned at Sid and it was completely genuine. “You are such a liar.”
“And what can I get you?” she asked.
“A beer. Whatever is on tap.”
“Are you having anything to eat with that?”
“No. I’ll be thinking about food with my next beer. I bet you see and hear some stuff in here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. She served him up a beer. “I had to sign a confidentiality agreement to work here. Your priest isn’t as safe as I am.”
“Cocky,” he said. “You hear a lot of jokes, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m even learning to tell a few. I have to practice in front of the mirror.”
“I bet you don’t,” he said with a laugh. “I’m very experienced in talking to bartenders and you’re not what you seem.”
“I can assure you, I’m exactly what you see,” she said.
“Okay, what did you do before bartending?” he asked.
“Don’t you think that’s a little personal?” she returned.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Unless you were in the Secret Service or something.”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.”
“If you were, you’d have a cover,” he said. He disarmed her with his smile.
“I worked in computers,” she said. “Very dull. In a room without windows. Figuring out programs and stuff. It’s what everyone in California is doing these days. What did you do in the Army?”
He leaned back, almost satisfied. “I mostly trained to go to war and then went to war. My last shift was Afghanistan. And that’s when I decided I’d rather pick up trash.”
“Really? That sounds like a dramatic change.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Do you know a guy named Tom Canaday?”
“Sure. I know Tom. Everyone knows Tom.”
“I met him. Hell of a nice person, Tom. He’s had all kinds of jobs, being a single father and all. He said roadwork, refuse pickup and plowing in winter pay very well and have great benefits. He said he still works for the county part-time.”
“You weren’t kidding about picking up trash,” she said. And then her cheeks turned a little pink.
“Aha! I knew it! You never miss a thing!” He laughed at her.
“How’d you meet Tom?” she asked.
“If I tell you, promise not to tell your other customers?” She put a hand on her hip and just glared at him. “He did some work for my brother. My brother had a remodeling job and Tom helped.”
“Well, that makes sense,” she said. “Tom has worked all over this valley. He even did some work in this bar.”
Dakota looked around. “I don’t know what he did but it’s a good-looking bar. Now back to you. Why’d you trade computers for bartending?”
She sighed. “Rob, my brother, is also a single father. His wife died and their kids were very young. So, he changed his life, moved here with the boys, bought this bar and it worked for him. He has some good employees so his schedule is flexible—he can leave someone else in charge and be available for the boys. They’re fourteen and sixteen now and active. But then his manager gave notice and quit and he needed help right about the same time I wanted a change. Who better than Aunt Sid? And, as it turns out, I like this.” She flung an arm wide. “I now have windows and everything.”
“Really different, though, isn’t it?” he asked.
“About as different as picking up trash will be from going to war,” she said.
He drank a little of his beer. “Got me there,” he said. “In my case, that could be a refreshing change.”
“Did you ever find yourself married?” she asked him.
He gave her a perplexed look. “As in, you wake up one morning and find yourself married? No, that never happened to me. Did you ever find yourself married?”
“I’m divorced,” she said. “Over a year now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked at him with a slightly sad or sheepish smile. Then she gave a nod. “Incoming,” she said, and turned away to wait on someone else.
“Well, what a coincidence,” Alyssa said. He saw her reflection in the mirror and turned toward her. She put her hand on the chair beside him. “Are you waiting for someone?” she asked.
Dakota was amazed at how quickly Sid could sneak away. She was all the way down at the other end of the bar. “No,” Dakota said.
“All right if I sit here?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Of course. Can I buy you a drink?”
“That would be so nice,” she said, fluffing her hair. “What have you been doing with yourself?”
“Nothing much,” he said. “Looking around. You?”
She laughed brightly and he knew. He was being stalked. There must be a real shortage of men around here. This wasn’t something that happened to him with regularity—women coming on to him. It happened, but not often. What was more common was him coming on to them. He certainly couldn’t complain about their looks, the two women who’d hit on him since he’d arrived in town. Alyssa was gorgeous. She was probably five-ten and her silky hair screamed for a man’s hands. And those legs, so many possibilities there.
She began to describe her day of styling hair, laughing at her own stories.
“Hi, Alyssa,” Sid said. “What can I get you?”
“A glass of merlot? Whatever label you like.”
“Coming right up,” she said, turning away.
Dakota was disappointed. He enjoyed a little good-natured bantering with a woman who was capable of giving it back. Alyssa was very sweet and polite, nothing about her put him off. He asked her what she did for fun. She liked to shop. Did she ski in winter? “Sure, everyone skis. Do you? Is that what brought you to Colorado?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, but I’m no expert. What else do you do for fun?”
She liked to get together with friends. Sometimes they went to Denver, clubbing. Three of them, single girls, went to Las Vegas for a long weekend; now, that was a blast. Talk about hangover city.
A couple of uniformed troopers came into the bar, sat at the end and Sid brought them coffee without being asked. They had her laughing her head off in no time. She put in their dinner order and went right back to them. She seemed to have a lot to say to them, laughing and gesturing with her hands. She refilled their coffee.
“Did you hear me?” Alyssa asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was distracted by the cops.”
“I said, maybe we should go out sometime. What do you like to do?”
Crap, he thought. “Let me get a little settled first. I’m new around here, remember.”
“I could help with that,” she said.
“And I appreciate that, Alyssa.”
A man in a plaid shirt brought out a couple of plates from the kitchen and went behind the bar, taking them to the cops. He put a hand on Sid’s shoulder and they all laughed together. The brother, Dakota thought. They reminded him a little bit of himself and Sierra; you could feel the bond between them.
“Are you wanted or something?” Alyssa asked him.
“Huh?”
“I said, are you wanted? Do you have warrants? Because you can’t take your eyes off the cops.”
“God, I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand down his face, over his beard. “I was wondering what it would take to get on the police force. Highway patrol, maybe. A lot of military men end up in the police department or fire department. I might not be that smart but I’m definitely in shape.”
“Oh, I bet you’re very smart,” she said.
“So, tell me how you chose your career,” he said, then inwardly cringed. He really wanted to run for his life. He was a bad person. She was just being nice; he should be flattered. But he wanted her to go away so he could talk with Sid.
“Ready for another beer?” Sid asked.
“Thanks, but...” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to go.”
“No dinner?” she asked with a devilish curve to her lips.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid.” He stood to dig out his wallet. “You take good care of the police,” he commented.
“Absolutely. They return the favor.”
“Take care of me and Alyssa here. Keep the change. Alyssa, you staying?”
“No, I’ll walk out with you,” she said.
He put a hand on her elbow to escort her out and asked her where her car was. At the beauty shop, of course. He prayed: please don’t try anything. Wasn’t that upside down? Didn’t normal men want beautiful women to try things? Anything? But this was a real small town and he had no follow-through here. He took her keys from her, beeped her doors unlocked and nearly pushed her into the car.
“There you go,” he said with finality. “I’ll see you real soon, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, clearly disappointed in him.
“Drive carefully!”
He plunged his hands in his pockets and sauntered back toward the bar to get his vehicle. Ah, that was how Alyssa knew! She could see the bar and grill from the salon; she could see his Jeep. He got in and started the engine. Then he sat there a minute. He thought about driving around the block a couple of times, then going back. He thought about just sitting there for a while, waiting for when Sid got off work. To do what? Follow her home? “Argh,” he growled, disgusted.
Then he asked himself two questions. One—what was it about Sid that was threatening to turn him into a creep? And two—did Cal have anything in the refrigerator he could eat?
The happiest moments of my life have been
the few which I have passed at home
in the bosom of my family.
—THOMAS JEFFERSON
3 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
SID ENJOYED WALKING home from the bar. It was nine, it was a brisk spring night and she’d put in a full, long day. She rarely stayed until closing; one of the other waitresses and Rob could manage behind the bar with the dwindling clientele. She left the weekends to the men and more energetic women. She typically worked Monday through Thursday but was willing to fill in here and there when needed. And, of course, her brother being the owner, she had good benefits.
The bar had saved her life. Well, Rob had saved her. And now she was schlepping drinks and meals and everyone was her friend. From introverted mathematician to gregarious barkeep. She didn’t know she could be this happy.
The new guy, Dakota, was a cocky one. He knew he was good-looking; she’d seen his type before and stayed far away from them. He downplayed it even though he had women crawling all over him. What was he doing? Playing hard to get? Letting the women make fools of themselves while he enjoyed the attention? If she could trust any man she might take the time to understand him. But she would only get to know as much of Dakota as could be learned with a nice big bar separating them.
She trusted one man only—her brother. Rob was the strongest, most genuine man she knew. When she was about to die of a broken heart, he came for her.
It had been a dark, desolate time. Without warning, her husband left her for another woman. They’d been together seven years; she’d put him through medical school and supported him through his residency, and when he was done, he left her. He’d been with the other woman for two years, he’d said. She had never suspected.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. They’d had plans. After residency he’d study for his boards, and right after passing the boards, they were going to have a baby. They hoped to have three. She thought they were in love, but while he was intimate with Sid, he was making promises to another woman. She knew they didn’t have sex very often, but wasn’t that how marriage and familiarity worked out? They talked about their future family. Was she remembering right? Was it just Sid who’d talked about their future? With her brain constantly riddled with equations, she often missed things happening right in front of her. Friends called her the absentminded professor. When David left, he had no lingering med school debt—no debt of any kind. That course of events had happened often enough that it was considered an old story—one spouse supports the other through a tough program like med school, then they divorce. It was such a cliché.
But Sid hadn’t had a clue. She should have known he didn’t love her. She should have felt it. But she herself was overworked, putting in long, long hours at the lab, drowning in data to be analyzed and sorted. She’d only been married seven years and was already grateful when David just left her alone so she could either work or rest.
She was in shock for a few months. Paralyzed with disbelief. Rob was her only family and he was struggling to raise two beautiful boys alone. They were getting by; she was so proud of them. As far as she knew, Rob didn’t date at all. But Rob had the boys. Sid had no one.
She didn’t tell anyone at work, but then her work friends weren’t social friends. They’d go out for a late-night drink sometimes after putting in a particularly grueling week; sometimes they’d have a meeting over breakfast or lunch. There was no girlfriend to call and cry to. It was different for a bunch of brainiacs. They were mostly introverts. Sid was one of the few who had a slightly social side to her personality but she could be content focusing on her work, living inside her head. Her husband had been so busy with residency she hadn’t expected much of a social life, anyway. Once he left her, she realized they rarely went out with friends, and when they did, they were usually doctors or hospital staff.
She moved through her days in a fog, going to work, writing papers, delivering lectures on quantum computing, managing a specially trained staff on UCLA’s DNA computing analysis. It seemed they were always close to a breakthrough—no time to relax, no time to play around—a quantum computer that sorted and analyzed DNA in a split second and made chromosome projections could change the world, eliminate birth defects, cure diseases. They worked off several huge government grants and contributions from foundations and patrons. They worked on tight deadline after tight deadline.
She was pretty far up the chain, on the top rung of a notable research team with only two PhDs above her. People brought their problems to her. She could hardly go to Dr. Faraday and have a breakdown and get personal advice. He was grooming his work for a Nobel Prize.
She had been very well compensated, of course. She made enough money to pay for their medium-size LA home, David’s medical school, five years of residency, her own advanced education, living expenses and, in seven years, two vacations.
She didn’t talk about her marriage, or rather her divorce. Throw a bunch of computer programmers and analysts in a room and they don’t tend to talk about their feelings.
One of the interns, a woman, noticed Sid was losing weight and seemed tired. Dr. Faraday asked her if she was getting sick. “Because we can’t afford to have you get sick.” She told him she was having some personal issues with her marriage, but she wasn’t specific and he dropped it like a hot potato.
Sidney began to suspect David had never loved her, had never been faithful, and she was too busy and too inexperienced in things like romance and relationships to see the signs. She remembered his opening line to her. “I saw an article about you in the LA Times—young physicist making waves in quantum computing.” He probably thought cha-ching. Meal ticket.
David began the divorce proceedings immediately. After all she’d done to support him he wanted half of everything they had accrued—half the savings, half the house, half of her pension! He was going to take everything she had and she’d be forced to start over. She should have found her own attorney at once but Sidney couldn’t move. She couldn’t function. She couldn’t get out of bed. Her students and coworkers emailed but she didn’t open the computer. They called her but she didn’t answer the phone. She didn’t answer the door. It was her elderly neighbor who had watched the house once when she visited Rob who’d unearthed his phone number and called him.
“Is Sidney there with you?” she had asked.
“With me? No! I’ve left her a couple of messages and she hasn’t returned my calls, but Sidney gets like that sometimes. If she gets really busy at the university, she just doesn’t pay attention.”
“Ever since David left her—”
“What?” Rob had shouted into the phone.
“You didn’t know? She didn’t want to talk about it but I’m so worried now. She’s been getting so thin, looking so wounded. I haven’t seen her in days and she won’t answer the door. I’m afraid she’s done something to herself. Her husband hasn’t been around. And she didn’t say she was going away.”
“Good God, call the police! Break down the door. Please make sure she’s in there, that she’s all right. I’ll be on the next plane.”
By the time Rob arrived Sid had been taken to the hospital by ambulance. An IV replaced fluids so she wasn’t dehydrated any longer, and she’d been medicated. But mentally and emotionally, she was ruined. Rob sat on the edge of her bed, took her hand in his and said, “Sid, what were you trying to do?”
It took her a very long time to speak. At long last, she said, “I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do.”
She felt she had failed so monumentally she couldn’t move. It wasn’t just that her marriage didn’t work; it was that she could be so successful in her field and not even notice her marriage didn’t work.
He pulled her into his arms and they wept.
Her doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital—in the psych ward. But Rob worked with them to find a good facility in Colorado. She needed medication and therapy. Rob brought Sid into his home after a brief and healing stint in the hospital, got her set up with a therapist. He hired a lawyer to represent Sid and helped her work through her divorce. Day by day, hour by hour, she got back on her feet. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t quick.
Sidney had never been very emotional and she certainly wasn’t a romantic. She was a scientist, a pragmatist, living in a world of equations and computations. But now she knew how dangerous a broken heart could be. And she learned how awful having no family, no real emotional bonds, could be.
She had had an emotional meltdown and what she learned was so ridiculously simple she felt even more stupid. She had not been living a balanced life. She had been completely absorbed in difficult work, had been physically tired, had no love in her life, became isolated and her defenses were down.
She collapsed.
Rob brought her into the bar, at first to lend a hand or have a meal with the boys. Eventually she worked her way into the business, getting to know the patrons, becoming friends with the other employees, getting to know the people in the town. Now it was her lifeline.
She still lived with her brother and nephews. She and Rob worked together to make sure the boys had everything they needed and the full support of parental figures. Sean and Finn were smart, athletic and funny. College was on the horizon.
“We’re going to turn into one of those odd brother and sister couples who no one understands and who live into old age together without changing anything,” Sid joked.
The town didn’t know all she’d been through. She was divorced, as were many people. They only knew a little of what Rob had been through, burying a young wife when his sons were only six and eight.
There was one thing that continued to plague her. How could her ex-husband treat her with that kind of selfish cruelty, use her as he had, abandon her the way he did and sleep at night? She tried not to think about that too much; it made her too sad. She was not known as a sad person. She was well liked and considered to be bright and funny and helpful.
There were plenty of attractive, personable men in Timberlake. She’d even been asked out. Could she ever be friends with a man again? She thought probably not.
But she took an oath. She was never going to let herself be that isolated and overworked again. She planned to surround herself with family and friends. Casual friends, not lovers.
* * *
By the time Cal got back from Denver, Dakota had signed his rental agreement, moved in his meager belongings and been hired by the county to haul trash part-time, starting in ten days. There would be a few days of training first, though how one trained in picking up garbage eluded him. He hoped they’d let him drive the big truck.
“Wow,” Cal said. “This almost sounds like you really are staying awhile.”
“Awhile,” he said, noncommittal.
“Gonna show me your place?” Cal asked.
“Certainly. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Let’s go!”
Cal jumped in the Jeep and they drove for about fifteen minutes to the little cabin in the woods. Dakota drove slowly over the bridge. “I hear this creek swells in spring. If it gets bad, I guess I’ll have to pole-vault home.”
“This is downright...cute,” Cal said.
“Be careful there,” he said. “It’s manly.”
“That, too,” Cal said.
“I just bought two canvas deck chairs. We can sit on the porch and have a beer and watch the deer and bunnies.”
They went inside and Cal admired the wood floors, the appliances, the big table, the stone fireplace. “This is not bad,” he pronounced.
“I like it,” Dakota said.
“Kind of all alone out here, isn’t it?”
“That’s the part I like best,” Dakota said. “But it turns out I have Wi-Fi. I’m not sure how good it is but if it’s terrible I’ll just spend a lot of time at your place. Or Sully’s. Or Sierra’s. Hey, when is Sierra getting married?”
Cal looked at him in surprise. “Are you concerned?”
“Nah, but I want to make sure she’s taken care of. You know?”
Cal put his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t know. You’ve hardly communicated, now you’re taking care of people?”
“To be honest, I never thought I’d be around family. I don’t hate it,” he added, smiling.
“Why didn’t that occur to you before?” Cal asked.
“Seriously?” Dakota said. “Let’s see. Not only was I in the Army, you were in Michigan! What’s the matter, was the North Pole full? Dad was in the twilight zone. Mom was pretty much there with him, and Sierra was under the influence. Are you suggesting I should have gone to live near Sedona so she could run my life?”
“You have a point,” Cal said.
“Who knew you and Sierra would settle in a cool place?”
“I never saw it coming, either,” Cal said. “I was just hiking. It was time and I was looking for the right place to scatter Lynne’s ashes...”
“And you end up at some old guy’s campground and he has a gorgeous daughter who just happens to be a neurosurgeon? How does that happen?”
“I must be living right,” Cal said. “You need anything? This stuff going to get you by?”
“I don’t need anything, Cal.”
“You don’t start your job for a while. It’s only part-time. If you need a little help, just say—”
Dakota put up his hand. “I left home seventeen years ago. I’ve gotten by without help, haven’t I?”
“I guess I always took it for granted that the Army was taking care of you,” Cal said. “We sure didn’t grow up soft, did we? But if there’s one thing we figured out early—there wasn’t much help available. Talk about training in making your own way.”
“That brings something to mind. Does everyone around here know how we grew up?”
“Everyone? I doubt everyone knows the details. The people we’re close to know. I took Maggie to the farm to meet the folks before we got married, giving her one last chance to run for her life.”
“And she didn’t run?”
“Nah,” he said. “Maggie’s tolerance and compassion far outpaces anything I’ve encountered. That’s one of the things I love about her.”
Dakota didn’t look at his brother but he could feel Cal’s eyes on him.
“You’re wasting a lot of energy still being mad at them,” Cal said.
“They weren’t exactly sterling parents,” Dakota said. “And it’s not because they were poor—there’s something honorable about being poor and holding it together. They were negligent. Jed should’ve been on medication! Marissa should have insisted.”
“Know what Maggie said about that? She said she’s had a lot of people refuse medical treatment for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they find the treatment worse than the disease, sometimes they’re afraid, sometimes they’ve made peace with their dysfunction and know how to live with it. He might not have been the best father but Jed is still a gentle soul. Crazy, but sweet. Scared of his own shadow but kind. He was always so good in his heart.”
“As he talked about his design of Apollo 13, or his Nobel nomination or some other delusion.”
“My favorite was when he was getting ready for a security briefing,” Cal said with a chuckle.
“I don’t want to laugh about it yet,” Dakota said.
“Let’s check out your new porch chairs and see if we can talk about things you find more agreeable.”
They sat and talked for a while about general things, the town, Sully’s place. Cal explained that Sully had had a heart attack a couple of years ago and ever since then those people attached to him—Maggie, Sierra, Cal, Connie—had all been checking on him regularly and pitching in with the chores around the Crossing. Dakota had fallen right into step, often showing up at the Crossing to help out.
In the late afternoon Dakota took Cal home and then headed for town. He parked way down the street and walked to the bar. He sat up at the bar and was promptly waited on by Rob. They chatted briefly while Rob served him a beer but there was no sign of Sid. Dakota nursed his beer slowly and eventually heard another customer talking to Rob. “Sid’s day off?”
“Not usually,” Rob said. “The boys had baseball tryouts and one of us had to take them so Aunt Sid offered. I told her to take the day off. She was just going to leave early, anyway.”
Then Dakota remembered: she left the weekends to the other bartender and waitresses because it got busy. That was good to know because Dakota wasn’t into crowded, noisy bars. But he would have to wait until the following Monday to see her again. He could take a chance on Sunday but he was pretty sure she had said Monday through Thursday was her usual schedule.
Through the weekend he enjoyed himself with his family and their families. Cal and Maggie hosted a big Saturday night dinner at their house because Connie wasn’t working and everyone was available. It was the end of March; the campground general store was still closing early and there were only a couple of intrepid campers. Sully liked to be in bed before nine so he left early, but the rest of them played poker until midnight.
At last it was Monday. Dakota was very calculating. He showed up at the bar between lunch and happy hour. He sat in his usual spot. The place was deserted. He waited for Sid to come through the swinging door from the kitchen. He grinned at her. And it was unmistakable...she smiled back. She slapped down a napkin in front of him. “And how can I help you today?”
“I’ll have a beer,” he said. “How’ve you been?”
“Me? Fine.” She craned her neck to look out the windows. “Are we expecting company today?”
“We are not. I parked behind the diner and walked down. I’m undercover.”
That brought a laugh out of her and she filled a glass with beer for him. “I don’t know why you’re fighting it. Alyssa is perfectly nice. And that other one is certainly beautiful and willing to buy you dinner. And, I suppose, other things...”
“I explained that,” he said. “Trouble. And Alyssa seems awfully young.”
“She’s not that young,” Sid said. “Just something to think about. How about you? How have you been?”
“Good. I thought we’d celebrate my new job.”
Her face lit up. “Congratulations! And what will you be doing?”
He lifted his beer and took a sip. “Picking up trash.”
She laughed and it was a wonderful sound. “Just as you planned.”
“It’s good money. I have to go to a training program first. Apparently there are things to learn about garbage. I hope they let me drive that big truck.”
She leaned on the bar. “That’s probably a senior position.”
“I’m experienced. I’ve driven great big MRAPs. You know—those enormous military vehicles that are resistant to mines and bullets and carry troops around the desert. I could probably parallel park a garbage truck.”
She laughed again. He could make her laugh. That was a start. “I might end up their star trash hauler.”
“After your training,” she reminded him.
“I bet I’m at the head of the class,” he said, grinning. “I doubt you have to be a Rhodes scholar to get through it.”
She seemed to snap to attention. “Why would you say that?”
“Just a joke. That was a strange reaction.”
“What exactly is a Rhodes scholar?” she asked.
“A recipient of the Rhodes Scholarship that includes a couple of years at Oxford,” he said. He judged her expression and it was his turn to laugh. “Hey, just because I’m hauling trash...”
“Huh,” she said. Then she wiped the bar. “The Army must have educated you very well.”
“In a manner of speaking. They have this nifty little thing called the GI Bill. When I was in the States, I took advantage.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I guess you’re a little overqualified for the county refuse pickup.”
He raised one brow. “How about you? College?”
She grinned. “What for? I love this job,” she said. “Seriously, it might be the best job I’ve ever had. Except once when I was a babysitter for this rich couple who took the family to France and brought me along to watch the kids. That was pretty sweet.”
“When do you get off work?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Because, Sid, I’d like to buy you a drink or a cup of coffee or something. Because I’m really not interested in Alyssa or Neely with her dinner at Hank’s or Henry’s or whatever, but I think I’d like to get to know you better.”
She looked around. “Well, while it’s not crowded and I’m finishing my chores behind the bar, we’ll get to know each other. I don’t date. I especially don’t date customers.”
“We don’t have to think of it as a date—”
“I like you, Dakota, but no. The answer is no. I’m not interested in dating. Not even just a coffee date.”
“I could tell you about all the times I got in trouble in the Army. You could tell me all your babysitting stories. You could fill me in on the town and I could tell you all about their trash.”
“Seriously,” she said. “Do I have to get my big brother?”
He slammed a fist to his chest. “Oh God! Not the big brother!”
“Don’t be cute,” she said.
He chuckled. “All right,” he said. “Can I have a Juicy Lucy? With jalapeños?”
“Medium?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
“That’s better. Now, enjoy your beer and don’t give me any trouble.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. What did you do over the weekend?” he asked. “On your days off.”
She ignored him while she keyed in his order. He could tell she was deciding whether it was a good idea to talk with him about personal things. Then she was back. “I did laundry, took the boys to the store for sporting gear, went for a hike, made their favorite Saturday night dinner, watched two movies and read a book.”
“A whole book?” he asked.
She just made a face. “What did you do?”
“We had a family dinner,” he said. “I have family here, did I mention that?”
“A brother, you said.”
“A brother, a sister, a sister-in-law and her father, a potential brother-in-law, a six-month-old niece. We ate, and after Sully went home we played poker till midnight.”
Her mouth fell open. Bingo, he thought. He was going to keep his private life from the town for now, but getting this woman’s attention had been too problematic.
“You’re related to Sully?” she asked.
“You know him?”
“Everybody knows Sully.”
“Then you probably know Cal, Maggie, Sierra and Connie. My family.”
“You didn’t tell me,” she said. “I consider them all friends. Not that we socialize or anything, but we see each other here and there. I see Sierra sometimes since we both work in town. Hmm.”
He smiled. “Now can we have coffee?”
“No,” she said.
“But you like my whole extended family!”
“Right,” she said. “And you’re a perfectly nice guy but you’re looking for a woman. Not a friend.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” he tried.
“I’m sure,” she said.
“What if I gave you my word we could be friends?” he asked.
“I’m getting Rob,” she said, turning as if to leave.
“Okay, I give up,” he said. “So, where’s a good place to hike around here?”
“You didn’t get enough of that in the Army? Sully’s place is sitting in the middle of some of the best trails. When you wear out those, head up to Boulder—awesome views.”
“Your nephews hike?”
“I need handcuffs and leg irons to get them to stick to hiking. They want to run, climb, dangle from cliffs, work out. They’re athletic and at their ages the hormones are just kicking in—lots of energy there.”
“How are they doing in school? You know, academically.”
“Fine,” she said. “As long as they’re doing well, we don’t harangue them. They’re kids. They both help out here and at home. They’re very good boys.”
“So the whole family works in the bar,” he said.
“Well, the boys can’t be in the bar—they’re minors. But there’s plenty to do around here. What about your family? I know what Sierra does. And Connie. I get firefighters and cops in here all the time.”
“We all help out at Sully’s, especially in spring. He’s getting ready for summer when his campground is full all the time. And after a long winter there’s plenty to do. Cal does a little lawyering here and there and Maggie works in Denver three to four days a week. And then there’s Elizabeth, who is brilliant. They keep trying to shame me into babysitting just to watch me squirm.”
“You don’t like kids?”
“Kids are great but I don’t do diapers. If they leave me alone with her I know something like that’s going to come up.”
“You might have children of your own someday. Then what?”
“Well, I’m not counting on that, but if it does happen, the baby’s mother will have to train me. I have no experience in that.”
“So, there are three kids in your family...”
“Four actually,” he said. “Cal’s the oldest. I have an older sister and Sierra’s the baby.”
“Older sister?”
“Wait for it,” he said. “Sedona. Two years younger than Cal, two years older than me. Cal’s name is actually California Jones.”
“That’s kind of...amazing,” she said. “Was there some significance? Something special about those places?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never been to either North or South Dakota. We did spend some time in California. My parents were... What’s a nice word? Freethinkers. Kind of hippies, for lack of a better description. It got us two states, one city and a mountain range.”
“That’s very cool,” she said.
“I spent most of my childhood on a farm in Iowa,” he said. “The kids in rural Iowa didn’t really find it cool. They found it strange.”
“They must have no imagination in Iowa,” she said. “I think it’s lovely. Interesting and lovely.”
She was such a nice person, he thought. And she was killing those jeans. He was going to have to be very patient. She had something going on in her head.
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “Why the big aversion to any sort of dating? Even the most innocent sort?”
“Are we going to start this again?”
“I’m not looking for an argument,” he said. “But really, it’s such a firm decision. Is there some specific reason? That might help me to get it and not take it personally.”
She sighed. “Ugly divorce. Divorce scars. Now do you get it?”
He shrugged. “Well, of course. But I’ve never heard of a nice divorce. I haven’t heard of anyone singing happy tunes after one, either.”
“Lucky you. You haven’t had the experience,” she said.
“I haven’t been divorced, no. I’ve had a couple of breakups and I agree they’re very tough. I spent a lot of time thinking about how I might’ve known that was going to end badly. Eventually I just moved on.” He drank some beer. “I guess you’re not there yet.”
Rob came out of the kitchen carrying Dakota’s lunch.
“Hey, Dakota. How’s it going?”
“Excellent, Rob. How are you?”
Before he could answer, Sid interrupted. “Rob, did you know Dakota is one of those Joneses? Cal, Maggie, Sierra, and by association Sully, Connie and there may be more.”
“Sure,” Rob said. “You didn’t know that?”
“Did you know the Joneses are named after states, cities and mountains?”
“I don’t know if I realized that,” Rob said. “Enjoy your burger. That’s Sid’s favorite.” Then he turned and was gone.
Dakota took a big bite. He chewed and swallowed. “Your brother likes me,” he said.
“It’s not going to do you any good,” she replied.
* * *
Dakota fell into a very uneventful, satisfying routine. He worked three long days a week and had Sunday through Wednesday off. He started at the crack of dawn, punching in at 5:00 a.m. and out at 3:00 p.m. They told him over the summer he might be able to pick up one more day and additional benefits, but he wasn’t too worried. He had the VA and a sister-in-law who was a doctor. There was still plenty of time in that schedule for him to help Sully and he managed to have dinner at the bar and grill at least two nights a week. He saw Cal and Sierra now and then, hung out with Sully sometimes, and although Tom didn’t have all that much time to spare, they managed to have a beer at Sully’s twice.
April was bringing the first blooms and campers, and the blossoming of his new friendship with Sully. First Sierra and now Dakota found in him the sane, philosophical and comical father they hadn’t had. For Dakota it started when he told Sully, “I guess you know we grew up picking vegetables with other migrant workers, living in a bus and getting no proper education.”
“For the life of me, I can’t figure out why that worked,” Sully said, scratching his mostly bald head.
“It didn’t work,” Dakota said. “It was awful.”
“And yet look at the lot of you,” Sully said. “You all turned out good. You didn’t just survive it, you aced it. But offering a manual on child raising that suggested that kind of upbringing as a way of creating a success...” He shook his head.
“It’s well-known that some lucky bastard will always rise out of poverty and ignorance and, in spite of hard times, make something of himself...”
“I know this,” Sully said. “A kid here, a kid there, escapes a poor, uneducated family and makes good. But the Jones clan? Near as I can tell—there were four of you and all four of you not only survived, but excelled.”
“Dumb luck, I guess,” Dakota said.
“There was some nurturing there,” Sully said. “Your mother, maybe your father on his better days, each other. Somehow it happened. I couldn’t have done it.”
Dakota laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Your daughter is Maggie!”
“Oh, I don’t take any credit for Maggie,” Sully said. “Her mother and stepfather raised her. Maggie’s mother left me when she was just small, took her away. I had failed them, see. Not that Phoebe, my ex-wife, was any treasure, mind you. We’re cordial now on account of Maggie, but it’s no secret we’d sooner live on different planets. She’s a giant pain in the ass. Her husband, Walter, a gentleman to the bone, not only puts up with her, he puts up with her generously. He’s a saint.”
Dakota chuckled. He’d heard from both Maggie and Cal that this Phoebe was annoying. “And you didn’t remarry?” he asked Sully.
“Why tempt fate?” Sully said. “Proved the first time I had no judgment where women were concerned. I met her and married her in less time than it takes paint to dry. That’s a clue.”
“But don’t you sometimes get...a little...lonely?”
“Did I say I’d never crossed paths with a woman? Even this old man can tell you, sometimes just being around a woman makes certain things better. Don’t go telling Maggie I said that. She’ll try to picture it in her head and get all riled up. But I’ve been friendly with women over the years. It’s a wise man who knows his limitations, son. Remember that.”
“I will,” Dakota said. But he couldn’t help but laugh.
He vowed to remember that. But he continued to go to the bar for two or three dinners a week. When Sid saw him coming, she gave a half smile and shook her head. She realized he was relentless. He liked her. And he could tell one of the problems she was having right now was that she also liked him. Well, maybe he shouldn’t go that far. She enjoyed him. Whatever the husband had done must have been so devious she was afraid that lurking beneath the surface of every good guy was a monster. Why else was the idea of even a cup of coffee such a terrible notion?
But Dakota was patient. He spent the month of April settling into the world of trash hauling. The first couple of weeks he hung on the side of the truck and picked up scattered refuse while a man named Lawrence drove and dumped the buckets. Lawrence was forty-seven but looked much older. His hair was going white; he had a wife and six kids. When he talked about his wife, everything came with an appreciative laugh and a headshake. “Ooh-wee, Benita made some of the best taco pie this man ever had!” Or, “Damn me, that woman got her fist on those boys o’ mine and they don’t dare talk back at their mama!” In short, Lawrence had a good, normal, happy life with all the usual problems. Dakota wanted to work with Lawrence forever. But he really wanted to drive. “You get to do that soon enough, boy,” Lawrence said.
April was full of rain and flowers. Hauling trash in the rain was just the same but wetter. But as the days passed, Dakota thought Sid might be softening up toward him, just a little bit.
The most extraordinary thing in the world
is an ordinary man and an ordinary woman
and their ordinary children.
—GILBERT K. CHESTERTON
4 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
TOM CANADAY WAS a happy man in general, always upbeat and positive even when times were challenging. It was his nature. His father was the same way and his mother might fret sometimes but she was both hopeful and helpful. Lately his happiness had been elevated a notch or two. He had a good woman in his life.
Tom had married his high school sweetheart when they were very young. They’d had four children, a handful for anyone. Zach, the youngest, was still in diapers when Becky left them and Tom became a single working father. Had his parents, brother and sister-in-law not helped from time to time, he never would have made it. Becky had moved out ten years ago now. Tom was the first to admit he’d had trouble moving on, but he was emotionally free now. There wasn’t a sliver of attachment to Becky left.
About the time Tom cut the ties he noticed Lola. Really noticed her. He’d known her almost all their lives; they were both raised near Timberlake and attended the same schools. They’d both married and divorced while still young. They saw each other around town all the time. Lola worked full-time at Home Depot, where Tom bought a lot of building supplies, and she was also a part-time waitress at the diner, just part-time enough for him to stop in for the occasional cup of coffee.
Tom had been getting a lot more pie and coffee the past six months than ever before.
Tom had been courting her for over six months and for two single parents to find time for romance was beyond difficult. But every time he kissed her he wanted more. He found Lola to be the most beautiful of women. She was strong and independent, but her strength and independence had not made her bitter. She was kind and compassionate. When he was able to put his arms around her and smell her sweet skin, he became aroused. She filled his arms with softness and he loved holding her against him.
But their schedules were impossible. They had to get by on what little time they could find here and there, maybe going to a home show or open house. They were both really into remodeling. In fact, they found they had many things in common. But they wanted to get alone together and just hadn’t found the opportunity.
It was 10:00 a.m. on a Thursday morning when Tom Canaday knocked on Lola’s door. When she opened it, smiling broadly, he handed her a gift-wrapped box.
“What is this?” she asked, taking it from him.
“Open it,” he said.
“Oh, Tom, you’re always so thoughtful,” she said, pulling the ribbon off. “Always thinking of others.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s me.”
She pulled off the top of the box and frowned. “What’s this?”
“You know what it is,” he said.
She pulled the item out. “A dead bolt?” she asked in confusion.
“For your bedroom door,” he said. “And I have a matching lock installed on my bedroom door.”
“I don’t think either of the boys will surprise us today,” she said with a laugh. “They’re both in school.” Cole had college classes and Trace was in high school.
“We’re not taking any chances.”
“They never open my bedroom door, Tom,” she said. “They’re scared to death they might see me in my underwear!”
“This is going to be different,” he said. “There will be no underwear. And they might hear noises and mistake it for you screaming in pain.” He grinned. “It won’t be pain.”
She put down the box and put her hands on his cheeks, kissing him soundly. His arms went around her to pull her closer, moving over her mouth with precision. He parted her lips with his, going deep, groaning as their tongues began to play. His hand slid down over her butt and pressed her close against him. The kiss went on and on, too long, really. He had to force himself to pull away. “Lola, quick—get me your toolbox.”
“You sure know how to woo a girl,” she said. She couldn’t help but giggle as she went to get the box. Having done a lot of her own repairs and renovating, she knew exactly what he’d need. By the time she got back he was already getting the lock out of the package. She immediately started handing him tools. First the screwdriver to remove the old doorknob, then the chisel and hammer to enlarge the opening in the jam. “I wish I’d gotten this done before the kissing,” he grumbled. “I gotta say, this is my first lock repair with a hard-on.”
“Just how long has it been?” she asked.
“Oh, about two minutes now,” he said.
“Not that!” she said with a laugh.
“You mean since I’ve had sex with a woman?” He wanted to clarify.
“Oh, my. Maybe we should talk about who else you might be having it with...”
He looked at her over his shoulder, lifting one eyebrow. “My left hand,” he said. “Believe me, you have nothing to be jealous of.”
“Tom,” she said in a scolding voice.
“It’s been such a long time,” he said, drilling in the screws.
She put down the toolbox where he could reach it and backed away from him. He grumbled a little bit at a stubborn screw but he made very fast work of the job. He closed the door, turned the lock and tested it, trying to open it. “Success!” he said.
But he turned and she wasn’t there.
“Lola?” he said.
She stepped into the doorway of her master bath wearing a sleek and satiny black robe. It took his breath away. “Whoa,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head.
Lola was so voluptuous. She wasn’t skinny or tiny. She was five-nine or so and full-figured. When they first started seeing each other she admitted she was self-conscious about her shape and considered herself overweight. Tom convinced her he loved her figure, loved her softness, loved that he could fall into her, fill his arms with her. She was full and rosy and smelled divine. He wanted to gobble her up from her dark, curly hair to her toes. “Holy God,” was all he could say. And he frantically began to tear off his clothes. At the last second, seeing her standing there in that lovely black robe, he left on his boxers. But before he’d gone to the hardware store to buy the privacy lock, he’d chosen them carefully. These were his best boxers.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said. He lifted her chin to kiss her while his other hand untied her robe and let it fall open. “Oh my God,” he said.
She rolled her shoulders back and the robe slid easily from her shoulders. And there she was, all pale flesh.
They’d been together for six months, and while they hadn’t been able to make love yet they’d done a lot of touching and talking. They were prepared in every way except one—they hadn’t lain down together without clothes.
“Why do you have these?” she said, giving the elastic of his boxers a snap.
“Why bother taking them off?” he said, pulling her against him. “I’m going to blast right through them.”
She pulled on his hand and they found the bed, lying down side by side, rolling together, holding on to each other, kissing like teenagers, their hands roving over each other’s bodies. Lola sighed, Tom moaned, lips were moving. He kissed her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. She stroked his butt, his thighs, and she managed to get rid of those boxers. Then he was on top, spreading her legs with a knee, moving closer and closer. He pushed forward and smiled against her lips. “I could embarrass myself here,” he said. “I’m wound a little tight.”
She shook her head. “Let’s not worry about making it perfect, okay? We’ve had to wait so long.”
“I know people who waited longer,” he said.
“But we’re forty,” she reminded him. “And we’re getting older by the minute...”
“You’re right,” he whispered. Then he found his way home. “Good God, it feels like you were made for me.”
She just hummed and covered his face with kisses.
Tom moved, they rocked, the bed squeaked, they clung to each other and it happened so fast. Both of them, bursting. Gasping. Then falling slowly and softly back to earth. He could not take his lips from hers; he didn’t even consider rolling away. He held his weight off her by bracing on his elbows.
“You have the softest lips in all creation,” he whispered against her mouth. “You have the sweetest body, the most beautiful dark lashes.”
“How do you do it?” she asked him. “How do you always make me feel so beautiful?”
“You are,” he whispered. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. And I love you.” He kissed her again. “I hope it was all right, because I’m in heaven.”
She laughed softly. “It was all right. Wonderful, in fact.”
“God, that was perfect.” He moved a little. “I’m not leaving.”
“That’s okay. I’m feeling very safe right now. Safe and satisfied.”
“That’s so good to hear.”
“That lock really turned you on,” she said.
“It wasn’t the lock,” he said, snuggling closer. “Please don’t let me fall asleep...”
“Tom, we should talk about something...”
“What?” he asked, lifting his head from her shoulder.
“The lock—it’s probably a good idea. A better idea is telling the kids we’re more than friends. They’re old enough that they deserve to know.”
“I don’t know. You have boys. I still have a young girl. Brenda is sixteen...”
“It’s no different with boys,” she said. “The kids all have to know the facts of life, the dangers and responsibilities, the joys. We’ve both been left by our spouses and have made good families while unmarried, but we’re entitled to be happy, too. Do you worry that your kids still hope you’ll reconcile with Becky? Because my boys don’t want that for me, for us. They’ve probably already guessed that we love each other.”
He smiled and moved a little. He moved a little more.
“You can’t be ready again,” she said. “That’s inhuman.”
“It’s just what you do to me.”
She put her arms around his neck. “Fine. We’ll talk when we have our clothes on.”
“Probably a good idea,” he said.
* * *
Dakota went to Rob’s bar for dinner on a Thursday night. It had become his habit for several weeks now and it had not gone unnoticed. When Sid saw him she just shook her head slightly and gave him a half smile. She slapped a napkin down on the bar in front of him.
“Back again, I see,” she said.
“Great seeing you, too, Sid,” he said, treating her to his sparkling grin. “How have you been?”
“Excellent. The usual?”
“Beer, then I’ll consider dinner.”
“And if Alyssa shows up, you’ll bolt?”
“I’m afraid I’ve been a big disappointment to Alyssa,” he said. “She wants a boyfriend and I’m not him.”
She put his beer in front of him. “Alyssa seems to be more tenacious than I gave her credit for.”
“Then I’ll be an even bigger disappointment. Because I’m tenacious, too.”
“I’m getting that.”
“So, what’s on your agenda for this weekend?” he asked.
“I’m pretty good at relaxing,” she said. “I have a couple of things scheduled. Nothing terribly exciting.”
“I’m off on Sunday,” he said. “Saturday night, too. What’s it going to take to get on your schedule?”
“We’ve been over that...”
“I could get a background check,” he suggested with a grin.
“Just give up, Dakota,” she said.
And then he noticed a little movement beside him.
“Isn’t this a nice surprise,” a woman’s voice said. And just as quickly, Sid was moving down the bar, asking people if they needed anything.
Neely. He hadn’t seen her in weeks. “Hi,” he said. “How are things?”
“Excellent. And you?”
“Good,” he said, lifting his beer.
“I’m Neely,” she reminded him.
“That’s right,” he said, as if he’d forgotten. “Dakota.”
“Oh, I remember.” She snapped her fingers, bringing Sid back. He frowned at that action. “Can I get a chicken Caesar and a club soda with lime?”
“Absolutely,” Sid said. “Dakota?”
“Nothing for me,” he said.
“So, you’ve been in Timberlake for over a month now,” Neely said. “Does that mean this little town appeals to you?”
“It’s a nice little town.”
“And have you settled in for a long stay?” she asked just as Sid put down her drink.
Dakota didn’t really feel like discussing his plans with her, but on the off chance that Sid might overhear, he told the truth. “I have a job here and I’ve rented a place, but long means different things to different people.”
“So tell me what you’ve seen and done since we last saw each other,” she said, sipping her drink.
“Nothing very interesting,” he said. He told her about the job, secretly hoping to put her off with his career as a garbage collector.
Then she told him she’d gone to a concert in Denver and she’d been shopping for things for her town house—area rugs, throw pillows, art. She suggested she’d have to show him sometime.
Dakota frowned. She would just invite him over? She didn’t know him. They had no people in common as far as he knew. All she knew was his first name and that he was a trash collector. That kind of rush to intimacy always made him suspicious.
She talked on, asking very few questions of him and those few he answered with one word if he could. He was thinking he would have to skip dinner tonight if she was going to hang around, but when she finished her salad she put her money on the bar. “Well, I’m off,” she said. “I hope we run into each other again soon.”
He was so grateful to see her go that he said, “I’m sure we will.” And when she cleared the door, he sighed.
“How does it feel to be a chick magnet?” Sid asked with laughter in her voice.
“Do not make fun of me,” he said. “There’s something about her that’s a little scary.”
“She seems perfectly nice,” Sid said. “Are you ready for your dinner now?”
“Almost,” he said. He picked up a menu and opened it. “Give me a couple of minutes. I think I might have to try something different tonight.”
“I thought you were close to doing that...but she gave up,” Sid said, walking away with a laugh.
Dakota looked through the menu while Sid waited on other patrons and mixed drinks for the waitstaff to take to tables. She paused for a moment to laugh with young Trace, the seventeen-year-old busboy. Dakota was thinking about wings and potato skins when Neely appeared out of nowhere. He jumped in surprise.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said. “I have a flat. I could call AAA but I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me out. I could make it up to you one of these days by buying dinner or even cooking for us.”
He thought about telling her to call AAA. But he couldn’t. He’d always considered it a point of honor to be kind and helpful to women. He said, “No problem.” Then he called out to Sid. “Hey, Sid! I’ll be right back. I’m going to help with a car problem. Reserve my spot, please.”
“Sure thing,” she said.
He held the door for Neely. He tried to walk behind her but she looped her arm through his.
“It’s down this way,” she said as she led him past the diner and around back. “The BMW is mine,” she said. Her flashy little BMW sat in the dark alley, just two spaces away from his Jeep SUV. He wondered immediately if that could possibly be a coincidence. He bent at the waist, looking at the tires.
“Which one?” he asked, straightening.
Neely pressed herself up against him and her lips were on his so fast he didn’t see her coming. Dakota had had many interesting experiences with women but this kind of aggression was a first. He gripped her upper arms and tried to move her away from him but it was hard—she was determined. Finally he managed to get some space between them. “What the...? Flat tire?”
She smiled and shrugged. “I thought maybe we’d get to know each other a little. Away from the nosy barmaid.”
He wasn’t sure what made him more angry—being tricked into leaving the bar for a potential tryst or Sid being referred to as a nosy barmaid. “Don’t ever do this again. It’s a bad idea.”
“Little uptight, aren’t you, Dakota?” she said, rubbing a hand over his chest.
He stepped back, out of her reach. He was seething inside, but he kept his cool. “Here’s a lesson in manners. If you want to get to know someone, you ask them. If they say no, you move on. You never trick them. This is creepy. Now go home.”
“Come on, you’re a big boy...”
“Good night,” he said, taking long strides away from her. He walked around the diner and back to the bar. He tried to shake off the weirdness of what had just happened. He got back on his favorite bar stool and saw that Sid had put a glass of ice water there. Grateful, he took a drink.
And left lipstick on the glass.
“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing a napkin and wiping off the rim of the glass and his mouth. She’d nailed him good.
“Beer?” Sid asked, slapping down a fresh napkin in front of him.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “And the Juicy Lucy with onion rings instead of fries.”
She looked at his face and pointed to her upper lip. “Missed a little here,” she said.
“I did not kiss her,” he said, maybe a little too loudly.
“You were attacked by a runaway lipstick tube?”
“You have it almost right,” he said.
“I thought you were going to try something different tonight.”
“Changed my mind. I like what I eat here. I look forward to it. I enjoy it.”
“Don’t get all goosey. I’ll take care of it.”
He wiped off his lips again. He sighed. No wonder he wanted to get to know Sid better and not Neely. He liked Sid. She was remarkably sane. She was so obviously smart. Her instincts were sharp. He thought she was pretty. She made him laugh and she challenged him by playing hard to get, except he knew she wasn’t playing. She was hard to get.
His hamburger arrived and he realized he was sulking as he ate. Every time he came to this bar when Sid was working he was hopeful she’d warm up to him, and every time Alyssa or Neely showed up, things got strange. So, Sid had been through something painful and was playing it cool. Well, so was he. He wasn’t looking for a lot, just a nice woman to spend time with, not some crazy broad who was always on the attack.
“You okay?” Sid said to him.
“No.”
“Look, she’s just a girl trying to make a date with a guy and—”
“There was no flat tire,” he said. “She lured me away from my beer and my meal to get me alone in the dark and threw herself on me. I had to peel her off me. It was terrible. I know guys who would have jumped at the opportunity but there’s something seriously off about her. If a man had done that to a woman, he’d be arrested. I don’t know how to make it any more clear—I’m not interested in getting to know Neely any better, or Alyssa for that matter. Both of them creep me out. And put me in a bad mood.”
Sid stared at him, transfixed for a moment. “Whew,” she finally said.
“It was awful,” he said, picking up an onion ring. “I’d never do that to a person. There’s this thing called manners. And personal space. You know?”
“I know,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said, chewing on an onion ring. “I got pissed off.”
“I understand completely.” She picked up his beer and dumped it. “That got a little warm while you were breathing fire,” she said, getting him a new frosty mug and fresh beer. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he said.
He nursed it slowly, done flirting for the night. In fact, he might be done for all time. He was a little surprised by the turn of events. He’d been on the receiving end of some blatant come-ons in his day but he could usually discourage the idea without anyone being hurt or becoming angry.
He finished his beer and stood to get his wallet.
Sid was in front of him with his check. “Two beers and a burger,” she said in her usual businesslike tone. “And here is where I’ll be on Saturday night if you still feel like coffee,” she said, handing him a second slip of paper. There was an address on it. He raised his eyes to hers. “You’ll be perfectly safe. Besides, that shade of red does nothing for my coloring.” Then she grinned.
“I don’t want your pity,” he said, but he said it with humor in his tone.
“Good. Seven o’clock.”
He walked to his car thinking that yes, she felt sorry for him. He was clearly insulted and angry about being played as he was. But that was okay. Even though it hadn’t been a strategy of his, he was willing to take advantage of the situation. And over coffee he would charm her and make her laugh. It was with this very hopeful and encouraged feeling that his SUV came into view.
All four tires were flat.
He looked around to see if anyone was there. Neely’s car was gone and the small parking lot behind the diner was quiet. He looked at the other cars—tires all fine. Then he went back to the sidewalk, where it was well lit. He pulled out his phone and called Cal.
“Hey,” Cal said.
“Hey. I’ve never done this before. Called my big brother when something happened.”
“Hmm. What happened?”
“I’m in town. I was having a burger at the bar and grill—Rob’s place two doors down from the diner. A woman asked me to help her with a flat tire, and when I went with her, there was no flat, just a very eager woman. So I extricated myself, but it was awkward—I must have offended her. Now, I find my tires are all flat.” He took a breath. “I guess I have to find a tow truck...”
“Sheesh,” Cal said, sounding more alert. “You know this woman?”
“Just her first name. I thought she was a nice woman, but her come-on could use a little polish...”
“You think she did it?” Cal asked.
“Doesn’t that seem a little extreme?”
“You have to call the police before you call the tow truck. And I’ll come and pick you up.”
“I can handle this myself...”
“You want the next guy who’s not interested in her to get four flat tires?”
“We don’t know for sure that she did it,” Dakota said.
“Sounds like we do, we just can’t prove who did it. Call the police, tell them what happened, ask them what towing service they recommend.”
“Aww,” Dakota groaned.
“This is Timberlake, Cody,” Cal said. “We don’t experience a lot of that sort of thing. If you don’t say anything, another guy could be vandalized. Or maybe she’ll try something bigger on you.”
“I think I’d rather just handle this...”
“Now you sound like a woman,” Cal said. “I want you to think about that. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
The notion that women don’t report crimes because they’re afraid or they just want to forget it happened and hope it won’t happen ever again had briefly crossed his mind, but he’d pushed it away. There was also a certain amount of humiliation involved in being victimized. Victimized and then tattling.
He wouldn’t have called Cal if he hadn’t been looking for someone to cut through his bullshit. Of course it was Neely. Of course she shouldn’t be pulling that shit. Then his mind wandered further. He didn’t want Sid to know. He didn’t want to seem less than strong.
The way a woman didn’t want her boyfriend or husband to know she’d been assaulted because she wouldn’t want him to think she was dirty? Or think she’d brought it on herself?
Cal arrived before the deputy. “Show me the damage,” he said. Once he’d checked out the car, he said, “That took a lot of effort. Look out for this one—she’s mean.”
* * *
To Dakota’s relief, only one tire on his SUV was slashed; the rest were merely deflated. Odd that he should have that in common with Neely—deflating tires to prove a point. And it gave him no peace of mind to know she was traveling around with some dangerous sharp object. He thought about the incident a great deal more than he wanted to. The vandalism would probably just be a misdemeanor. He tried to imagine her in her fancy clothes and boots crouching in the dark, manipulating the air out of the tires.
His insurance company covered the tow but he had to get Cal to drive him to work early in the morning. He was pretty angry about the whole thing.
But by Saturday he was looking forward to seeing Sid. After work he plugged the address Sid had given him into his GPS. He focused not on his unpleasant experience with Neely but rather on going to some coffee shop in Colorado Springs where he would concentrate on demonstrating how desirable he was. He would find out more about Sidney, entertain her with stories of his world travels and, if necessary, exploit his actions as a soldier and hero. He never did that first. He always saved that as a last resort.
He looked around but couldn’t find the address she’d given him. The directions were clear but he had trouble believing they were correct. He hadn’t been to Colorado Springs before but he had trouble envisioning Sid inviting him to a trashy side of town. Please, God, don’t let Sid be a whack job! One is enough.
He drove around the block but no coffee shop turned up. There wasn’t even a Denny’s or truck stop. He finally bit the bullet and took the slip of paper she’d given him and, after locking his car, went into the only place on the block that appeared to be open. It was pretty run-down, had a big cross on the door and the sign, which could not be seen in the dark, said Free Dinner.
He thought it might be a storefront church of some kind and they would at least know the neighborhood. He walked inside and discovered it was a soup kitchen. He had to weave his way through people standing in some kind of line to find whoever was in charge to get better directions. Then he saw her.
Sid was standing behind a serving counter, smiling like she’d never been happier. She wore a green apron, a scarf covering her hair, and rubber gloves, and wielded a big spoon. He chuckled and shook his head. He cut the line to walk up to her.
“Coffee?” he said, giving her his best smile.
“Glad you made it,” she said. “Clay? Give this man an apron and show him what to do!”
A man travels the world over in search of
what he needs, and returns home to find it.
—GEORGE MOORE
5 (#u8015c7ce-a0aa-536f-841c-ea149ce503bd)
DAKOTA FELT AS though he’d been tricked again, but this time in a good way. It took him about five minutes to get into the idea of serving free food. The clientele was as varied as the human race. There were a few grizzled old men—or maybe they were only grizzled and not so much old as worn down. A pair of elderly women came in together and passed through the line with their trays. He served a family of six, the oldest child no more than ten. There were several families, not always with both parents. A young man was there with his toddler son, who sat on his lap the whole time. He spotted a young couple, maybe twenty years old, followed by a few kids being led by what could only have been a big sister. A couple of boys around twelve came in with no adult. Then a vet, wearing a purple heart on his denim vest. To him, Dakota said, “Greetings, brother. Thank you for your service.” More old men and women arrived and he wondered which were street people and which were merely poor. A few people came in over the course of a couple of hours who Dakota realized were not in reality and he thought this was what his father would have become without the anchor of his wife and family.
While a few looked as though they could benefit from some drug or another there were also those who appeared to have benefited too much. They were of every race and ethnic group—black, white, Hispanic, Middle Eastern, even a man with a strong Australian accent who said, “Thank ya, mate.”
They had only one obvious thing in common. They were hungry.
Once the food had all been served, the next step was the inevitable cleanup. That was when Dakota became acquainted with some of the volunteers. Sid introduced him to a sixty-eight-year-old woman in jeans and a flannel shirt. “Dakota, meet Sister Mary Jacob,” she said.
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Робин Карр
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHORSULLIVANS’ CROSSING: BOOK THREECan he overcome the past?Dakota Jones had a difficult upbringing but he escaped to the military as soon as he could. Now, after several tours of duty he has finally been discharged.Refusing to return home he arrives in Sullivan′s Crossing where his brother Cal and sister Sierra have found a home. Nestled at the crossroads of the Colorado and Continental Divide Trails, the area attracts those looking for answers or direction or a new lease on life. Dakota will come to terms with his less-than-perfect family and will plant the roots he′s never had.Readers love Robyn Carr:‘Lovely book from a lovely series’‘Robyn Carr reflects real life wonderfully’‘fascinating and heartwarming characters and a stunning setting’‘a must-read for fans of contemporary romance’