“Not today. Your coffee’s hot at no risk.” He grinned at her.
“Hmm,” she said, taking the cup. “You make a very adequate Abigail.”
“Tell me what I can do to make this easier for you.”
She sipped her coffee and thought for a moment. “Two things.”
“Name them.”
“Take me to town and leave me. Say goodbye to me and just go—don’t linger, don’t watch me drive away.”
He gave a nod. “If that’s how you want to do it.”
“And can you tell me—do you feel anything for me?”
He put his big hand against her wild curls. “I feel everything for you. But that won’t change the facts. We’re strangers from two separate worlds that won’t easily merge, and I’m still a guy with what you call issues—piles of them. Not really ready to make any rapid-fire changes, though I think I made some small ones in spite of myself. I have a lot less hair, for one thing.”
“You’ve come along nicely.” She gave him a little kiss. “I think if I had more time…”
He stilled her chin in his hand, commanding her attention. “Listen. I won’t kid you—you changed everything. Come back sometime if you feel like it. But if you don’t, I won’t hold it against you. Remember what you told me—that after you did this, after you found me and thanked me, asked me some questions and told me the things you had to be sure I knew, you were going to be free to move on. It’s okay, Marcie. Even after what passed between us. Especially after what passed between us—you can move on if you want to. I expect that.”
“And what if what I want is you?” she asked him.
“The only thing in the world that could possibly make me sad is if I couldn’t make you happy. That’s what scares me the most—that you would want me, and I’d let you down.”
“Why do you even think that way?”
“Just a sorry old habit,” he said.
“I bet you could break that habit if you’d just let yourself.”
He smiled. “That’s one of the best things about you—your eternal optimism.”
“Oh, Ian, that’s not optimism. It’s faith. You should give it a try sometime.”
Sixteen
A t one o’clock Ian drove Marcie into town to where her little green VeeDub was parked. He showed her how to put the chains on her rear tires if she ran into snow. But right now the roads were clear as was the sky, and she was good to go if she left within the next couple of hours. Then he put his arms around her and gave her a long, loving kiss. He didn’t even look around to see if they were being watched. And he said, “Thank you, for matching me for stubborn.”
“I’m not all together about this,” she said. “This is really hard.” “When you get closer to home, you’ll start to feel good about being with all of them. They were always there for you,” he reminded her.
“Good—”
He put a finger over her lips. “Shhh. Don’t say it. Drive carefully.”
“If I write to you, will you answer?”
“Absolutely,” he promised.
“Well, that’s progress,” she said weakly. “I…Ah…I left you something. I slipped it into your clothes trunk when you weren’t looking.”
“Aw, Marcie—you shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s not a Christmas gift or anything. Something I meant to give you, but the time was never right. And then I decided you should have it in private. I’ll see you again, Ian.” She gave him a tremulous smile and a tear ran down her cheek. “Saw and chop carefully,” she said. “And take good care of Buck.”
“I will,” he said, touching her lips once more. “Till later.”
“Okay, then. Till later.”
She walked up the steps into the bar while he went to his truck. She heard that rough, loud motor as he drove away. She realized he hadn’t asked for a phone number where he could reach her if he got crazy and decided to call. She’d leave her number with Preacher, and Ian had her home number in those letters he hadn’t read. But she had little confidence that Ian would be hanging around the town after she was gone. In fact, she worried that he would pull deeper into himself.
The bar was quiet at this time of day—only a couple of locals finishing up their lunch. Preacher came out of the back and said, “How’s things, Marcie?”