Something hit him, and it didn’t feel particularly good. He picked up the picture and looked at the man’s face. So, you’re the guy, he thought. He didn’t look like a bad guy—but clearly he had done something to Mel. Something she was having trouble getting beyond. Maybe he’d left her for another woman—but that seemed impossible to imagine. Maybe he left her for a man. Oh, please let it be so—I can make that better—just give me five minutes. Or maybe he looked harmless but had been an impossible asshole and she’d broken off with him, but still loved him helplessly. And here she had his picture right there, to be the last face she saw before falling asleep at night.
At some point she was going to give Jack a chance to make that picture go away, but it wasn’t going to be tonight. Probably just as well. If she woke to find him there, either in her bed or ready to be, she would put the blame on Crown Royal. He wanted it to come from desire—and he wanted it to be real.
He scribbled a note. I’ll be back for you at 8:00 a.m. Jack. He left it by the coffeepot. Then he went to his truck to get something he’d purchased earlier in the day. He brought the leather case holding the dismantled fly fishing rod and reel and the waders into the house and left them by the front door. And went home.
At 8:00 a.m. he was back in front of her cabin and what he saw made him smile. All the disappointing thoughts that had plagued him the night before vanished. She was sitting in her Adirondack chair in her new waders, idly casting her fly into the yard. A steaming cup of coffee rested on the wide chair arm beside her.
He got out of the truck, grinning. “You found it,” he said, walking to the porch.
“I love it! Did you get this for me?”
“I did.”
“But why?”
“When we go fishing, I need to stand beside you. Not in back of you, smelling your hair and feeling you against me. You need your own stuff. How do they fit?”
She stood up and turned around for him. “Perfect. I’ve been practicing.”
“Getting any better?”
“I am. I’m sorry about last night, Jack. I had been tense and hungry and freezing all day and it really hit me.”
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
“I should keep this in my trunk, huh? In case we have a light day at Doc’s and can just sneak off and fish.”
“Good idea, Mel.”
“Let me put my gear away,” she said happily.
And he thought—just give me time. I’m going to get that picture put in storage.
Ricky hadn’t been around the bar the week right after Connie’s heart attack, hanging close to the family in case they needed him for anything. When he did come into the bar, it was late and there were only two men at a table and Preacher behind the bar. Ricky sat up at the bar, his eyes downcast.
“How’s everybody doing?” Preacher asked.
He shrugged. “Connie’s doing pretty good I guess. They sent Liz back to her mom’s in Eureka.”
“Eureka isn’t the end of the world, man. You can visit her.”
Ricky looked down. “Yeah, but…probably shouldn’t,” he said. “She was…she was the first girl I felt that way about.” He looked up. “You know. That way.”
The two men at the table stood and wandered out of the bar. “Close call?” Preacher asked him.
“I wish. Holy God,” Rick said, shaking his head. “I thought I had it under control.”
Preacher did something he’d never done before. He drew a couple of cold drafts and put one in front of Rick, one in front of himself. “Tough call, that control thing.”
“Tell me about it. This for me?”
Preacher lifted an eyebrow. “I thought maybe you might need it right about now.”
“Thanks,” he said, lifting the glass. “She doesn’t look like a kid, but she’s just a kid. She’s way too young.”
“Way,” Preacher agreed. “You got a handle on it now?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Now that it’s too late.”
“Welcome to the world.” Preacher drank half his draft.
Rick just looked into his. “It’s just that I’d die if anyone got hurt, you know. If I hurt her. If I let you and Jack down.”
Preacher put his big hands on the bar and leaned toward Rick. “Hey, Ricky, don’t worry about letting us down. Some things are just nature, you know? You’re a human being. You do the best you can. Try to think ahead next time, if you get my drift.”
“I do now.”
Jack came into the bar from the back. He noticed right away that Ricky and Preacher had beers and that Ricky wore a troubled expression. “Do I need to toast anything?” He poured himself a glass of beer.
“I’m pretty sure that’s a no,” Ricky said.
“Ricky here, if I’m reading him right, has entered the world of men. And wishes a little bit he hadn’t.”
“Instead of giving me a handful of rubbers, you should’ve had me laminated,” he said to Jack.
“Oh, boy. You gonna be okay, buddy?” Jack asked. “She gonna be okay?”
“I don’t know. When am I gonna know? How am I gonna know?”
“A month,” Jack said. “Maybe less. Depends on her cycle. You’re going to have to ask her, Rick. If she got her period.”
“I’m gonna die,” Ricky said miserably.
“Okay then. Let’s toast to your continued good luck. Since you got, you know, lucky.”
“Right now I gotta wonder why they call it that,” Ricky said.
Nine
The grass grew tall in the pastures, the ewes fat with lambing imminent. The cows were ready to calve and Sondra Patterson was almost to term.
Sondra was expecting her third child, and the first two had come to her quickly and easily, so she and Doc claimed. She had decided to have this one at home, as she had the first two. This would be the first home birth for Mel, and she looked forward to it with nervous delight.
May aged bright and sunny—and brought with it a bunch of men in pickups and campers. There was a great deal of horn-honking at the bar in the afternoon and Mel looked out to see this gathering descend on Jack’s. She watched as he came out on his porch and greeted them with bear hugs and shouts and whistles.
“What’s going on?” she asked Doc Mullins.
“Hmm. I think it’s another Semper Fi reunion. Jack’s old buddies from the Marine Corps. They come up here to hunt, fish, play poker, drink and yell into the night.”
“Really? He never mentioned that.” And, she thought, is this my cue to be scarce? Because that afterwork beer, the occasional kiss, had become the best part of her day. She was further bewildered by the fact that he hadn’t tried anything more. And yet, if he had, she would have worried about the consequences. She shouldn’t be involved with anyone, even Jack. Not until she was sure she could handle it. Thing was, she just couldn’t bring herself to give up that little bit of kissing. She was sure that Mark would understand. If their situations had been reversed, she told herself, she would.
But with the marines in town, there would be none of that.
Doc seemed to have no inclination to stay away, and at the end of the day he took himself over to the bar. “Coming?” he asked her.