Wyoming Winter

She flushed.

“I mean that,” he added, sketching her face. “You remind me of my mother, in a way. She had that incurable optimism.” His face hardened. “She was almost too kind and forgiving.”

She wanted so badly to ask what had happened to his mother, but the machine sang out and she laughed and threw up her hands. “Look! I won again!”

He glanced at his watch. “And I hate to break this up, but it’s a long drive home. Your father won’t appreciate it if I get you home in the wee hours of the morning. I’ve probably gotten you in enough trouble, just bringing you here.”

She stood up. “It was my choice, too,” she told him. “Daddy doesn’t interfere. He counsels, which is a different thing.”

He drew in a long breath. “We come from very different backgrounds,” he said after a minute.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It might, one day,” he replied. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to get mixed up with you.”

“Gee, thanks, I like you, too,” she mused.

“I wish I could just walk away,” he said huskily. He touched her face with long, gentle fingers. “I can’t.”

Her heart jumped up into her throat. It was the most encouraging thing he’d said to her so far.

“You may wish that I had, Colie,” he said quietly. “I meant what I said. I’m not interested in white picket fences and babies.”

“You said that before. I’m not trying to change you, J.C. You really can’t change people,” she added.

“That’s my point.”

She just stared at him, so much in love that she wondered if her feet were really touching the floor as she met his searching gaze and felt her breath suspended as her heart ran wild.

He ground his teeth together. “We should go. Let’s collect your winnings and call it a night.”

She was delighted with her small win. It was only about a month’s salary, but it would help catch up on some bills and let her add a few minutes a month to her phone messaging.

She said so.

J.C., who had money stashed away in offshore accounts as well as his local bank, frowned.

She saw the look. “I make a nice salary, but it doesn’t go very far,” she told him. “I help with the bills and I pay for my cell phone. It’s not top of the line, but it has a few features. I pay for gas for my old truck that has mechanical issues every other week. I pay for the internet because I’m the one who uses it, mostly. Rod helps, because he games. He does love his console life.”

“He always liked gaming,” he replied. He didn’t tell her that Rodney had changed a lot with his overseas duty. That happened to men who were raised with solid beliefs. It was challenging to retain them when you saw so much death and torture in the military.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” she wondered as they drove back home down snow-lined roads toward Catelow.

“I was remembering my service overseas, with Rod,” he said. “It isn’t something I talk about. I don’t imagine Rod shared any of it with you, either.”

“Not really. He had nightmares when he first came home. He didn’t say why. He and Daddy talked about it, but not in front of me.” She glanced at him. “Daddy fought in the first Gulf War,” she added. “He was a chaplain, but he was on the front lines.”

“That must have been hard on him,” he said.

“Very hard. He said it challenged his faith, seeing the misery of the people he encountered.”

“Life challenged mine,” he said shortly. “I lost what little I had when I was ten.”

She was curious. Very curious. But she didn’t speak.

He drew in a breath. “My father worked in mining, after he and my mother married,” he began. “It was hard work. Not what he’d planned for himself. He wanted to own a ranch. He thought if he worked hard and saved his money, he’d be able to buy land, build a house, start a herd of cattle. But it didn’t happen.” His eyes stared straight ahead as the windshield wipers slid rhythmically over the windshield, wiping away flurries of snow. “He was trapped. Mom got pregnant with me, and suddenly there were doctor bills and all the debt that comes with a baby. There was nothing left over every week. Mom couldn’t work, because there was nobody who could take care of me, and they couldn’t afford help.”

“There are government agencies,” she began.

He laughed shortly. “My father was a proud man,” he returned. “He refused to even speak of it. He tried to get my mother to contact her people and ask for a loan. She wouldn’t do it.” He glanced at her. “They disowned her when she married my father. They had deep prejudices.”

What he’d said, about the differences between his parents, suddenly made sense. “That was sad.”

“Prejudice doesn’t have a home,” he said simply. “So they soldiered on. Mom said he started drinking soon after I was born. Dreams die hard. He couldn’t bear the loss of his.” His big hand gripped the steering wheel hard. His free hand found hers and linked her fingers with his. It helped the pain. “She wanted to go to a meeting at the local school that I attended, for parents. I was ten and I was watching a movie on television. I didn’t want to go. She said I could stay home, it didn’t matter. My father complained because he didn’t want to go, but she pleaded. She got in the car with him. He’d been drinking all day.”

She tightened her fingers in his.

“He took a curve too fast and went off into the river. She drowned while he swam to shore.”

“Oh, gosh,” she ground out.

“I didn’t know until the local police came to the door. My father ran for his life. He’d have gone to jail without a doubt, under the circumstances. My mother was dead. Something inside me died with her. I haven’t seen my father or spoken to him since,” he added curtly. “I was placed in state custody until I was adopted by a kind older couple who didn’t have any kids of their own. They were well-to-do. I was spoiled. But it didn’t quite make up for what I’d lost. And I didn’t live with them long, just until the fire that took their lives.”

“What about your mother’s people?” she wondered.

“Dead,” he said icily. “I wouldn’t have known, but I turned out to be the only legal heir they had. I inherited their estate.” Which amounted to a few million dollars, but he didn’t say so.

“I’m really sorry,” she said softly. “I can only imagine how hard that would have been for you. But at least you had somebody who loved you, J.C. A lot of people don’t even have that.”

“I know.”

Her fingers tightened on his. “You’re still living in the past,” she said, her voice tender. “You can’t do that. Life doesn’t have a reset button.”

He laughed shortly. “Tell me about it.” He took a breath. “I lived in the Yukon Territory in Canada, but I was born in Montana. My folks were visiting a cousin who lived near Billings when Mom went into labor. So I have dual citizenship. When I was old enough, I joined the American Army,” he added, skipping over much that had happened to him in between. “I served overseas, in Special Forces, which is where I met Ren and your brother.”

“Were you in the Army a long time?” she asked.

“Somewhat.”

So there were still secrets. He didn’t trust her enough to tell her. But he’d told her things she was certain he hadn’t shared with any other woman. It was flattering.

“Then there was her,” he added coldly, and his fingers became bruising.

“Her?”

“Cecelia,” he said through his teeth. “I was just out of basic training. I’d never been to a town larger than Whitehorse, up in the Yukon. Just a few thousand people, an isolated community,” he added. “I wound up in New Jersey on liberty. I didn’t smoke or drink, so I always had pocket money, even before I inherited my grandparents’ estate. Cecelia knew one of the boys in my unit, and he said I was loaded. So she came looking for me.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, because she could guess where this was going.

“I didn’t know that, of course. I thought it was an accidental meeting, when one of my friends in basic introduced me to her. I didn’t know she’d arranged it.” He stared straight ahead. “She was beautiful. The most beautiful human creature I’d ever seen. She was poised, sophisticated, talented.” He grimaced. “I thought she was perfect. I fell head over heels in love the first night. She could turn me inside out. She was like a drug, an addiction. I’d never known so much pleasure.”

She was jealous, but she didn’t let on. She just listened.

He was lost in the past, drowning in misery. “We went around together for weeks. I took her to the opera, the theater, to symphony concerts. Even to a rock concert. I bought her designer clothing and diamonds. She really seemed to love me. I certainly loved her.”

His fingers were hurting, but she didn’t move, didn’t speak.

“It was her birthday. I’d bought her a sapphire necklace she’d admired at a high-end jewelry store and I went to her apartment to give it to her. The door was open. She was talking to a male friend who was with her. She was talking about me, about how stupid and gullible I was, about how she’d scammed me into buying her all sorts of expensive presents. She thought it was hilarious. I didn’t even have enough sophistication to realize that she was a call girl, that she sold her body for money.”

“What a miserable human being,” she said quietly.

He laughed. It had a hollow sound. “She was right. I was naive. But I grew up very suddenly. I opened the door and walked in. She was wearing a negligee, almost transparent, and her companion had on nothing except his underwear. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me and realized what I’d overheard. I didn’t say a word. I turned around and walked out.”

“Did she try to call you?” she wondered.

“She asked one of my friends to tell me she was sorry and that she’d like to start over. I told him where she could go, and how fast. I never saw her again.”

“I really do live a sheltered life,” she remarked after a minute. “I didn’t know there were people like that in the world. I don’t really understand greed. I’ve never felt it.”

“I noticed that about you.”

She smiled. “I like simple things. Flower gardens. Kittens. Just walking in the woods. Stuff like that. I’ve never liked diamonds or fancy jewelry, or fancy clothes. It’s not me.”

He loosened the tight grip of his fingers. They became caressing. “You’re nothing like her.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated. “I think.”

He laughed. “It was a compliment.”

“Okay.”

He glanced at her curiously. “I’ve never talked about her. Or about my parents.”

“I never repeat anything I’m told. I work as a legal administrative assistant,” she added. “Even though I just basically answer the phone and take dictation, I’ve been trained to keep my mouth shut. I guess it carries over to my private life.”

“I guess.” He smiled. “You’re a good listener.”

“Sometimes people just need to talk. That’s what Daddy says. He went to see a man who was suicidal. The man put down the gun he was holding and walked out of the room with Daddy. The place was surrounded with police, even a SWAT team. They all just gawked. They asked Daddy how he talked the man out of it, and he said he didn’t say a word. He just listened. That was all the poor soul needed, somebody to just listen. He’d lost his wife and child in a wreck and he didn’t think he could go on. He had nobody to talk to. So Daddy just listened.”

“You listen, too, Colie. It’s a bigger help than you realize.” His mouth pulled to one side. “I don’t have anyone of my own,” he added quietly.

“Yes, you do,” she said boldly, and curled her fingers around his, without looking at him.

He couldn’t have imagined anyone getting a hold on his heart this quickly, but she’d managed it. She’d become the color in his life, in a space of only weeks. For her own sake, he should let her go. But he couldn’t.

* * *

HE WALKED HER to her door. The porch light was on. There was still a light burning in her father’s study. He’d be working on Sunday’s sermon, she knew. He spent days putting just the right words together.

“Your dad’s waiting up for you,” he mused.

She laughed. “Not really. He works on his Sunday sermon a little every night, until he has it the way he wants it.”

“He looks out for you, too, though.” He touched her short, wavy hair. “I’ll bet he’s never taken a drink in his life,” he said, with more bitterness than he realized.

“No,” she agreed. “He doesn’t drink or smoke. He says addictions are much too dangerous. It’s better not to acquire them.”

“He has a point.” He bent and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t drink or smoke, either. Well, I have a beer occasionally. Never any hard liquor.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted liquor,” she confessed.

“Just as well.” He bent and brushed his mouth gently over hers. “I enjoyed tonight.”

“I did, too.”

He drew back all too soon. He put his hands on her shoulders and just looked at her. “I’m going to be out of town for several days.” His mouth pulled to one side. “Ren signed me up for a gadget convention—new toys for ranch security. I have to go.”

“Where?”

“Just Denver,” he said. “Not too far away. Stay out of trouble until I get back.”

She laughed. Her eyes lit up when she did that. “Okay.”

“Not that you ever get in trouble in the first place,” he mused.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she said in a stage whisper, indicating the house behind her.

He smiled. “We might see a movie when I come back.”

“There’s that new science fiction one opening next week,” she pointed out. They’d discussed it on the way to Lander.

“We’ll go, then. See you.”

“See you.”

He walked away. She noticed that he never looked back. She wondered why. It seemed to be a long-standing habit.

She went inside and put up her coat and purse. She tapped on the door of her father’s study and opened it.

He looked up from his notes. He smiled. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did. I won enough to catch up the bills.” She grinned at his expression. “I know, it’s sinful money. But it will be very useful for the electric bill.” She struck a pose. “If it wasn’t meant to happen, I’d have lost every penny.”

He laughed. “All right. I won’t say anything.” He was looking at her intently. After a minute he turned his attention back to his notes. “Sleep good.”

“You, too. Night.”

She closed the door.

Her father was wise enough to notice that she hadn’t indulged in any heavy petting with J.C. Such signs were quite visible. It gave him a little hope. J.C. might not turn out to be as bad an influence as he’d feared.

* * *

THE WEEK DRAGGED BY. Colie typed up briefs, printed them out, took dictation, scheduled clients, helped open mail and generally buried herself in work to keep J.C. out of her mind.

“You’re daydreaming, girl,” Lucy, her coworker teased. “It’s that handsome man from the Yukon, isn’t it?”

She didn’t deny it. “Small towns,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, my cousin runs the filling station where J.C. buys gas and he mentioned he was going to Lander with a friend. Since he doesn’t have any friends...” Lucy trailed off.

“He does so. He has me.”

Lucy grinned at Colie’s mischievous expression. “Anyway, we figured he was taking you over to the casino. Win much?”

“I won enough to pay the light bill,” Colie said. “And get a few extra minutes a month on my phone. It was nice.”

“I know what you mean. I had to give up bowling for two nights because I blew a tire and had to replace it,” the other woman sighed. “Ben’s so understanding. I ran over a piece of metal in the road. I wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t even blink. He just kissed me and said he was grateful that I didn’t get hurt. That’s what I call a nice husband.”

“You two really are great together,” Colie said. “You’re the same kind of people. You come from similar backgrounds.”

“And we’ve known each other since kindergarten,” was the droll reply.

“Did you ever think of just living together?” Colie asked, trying not to sound as curious as she was. She was thinking ahead, in case J.C. ever brought it up.

“Not really,” Lucy confided. “My dad’s a pharmacist. Good luck trying to get birth control in Catelow without him finding out. Besides that, he’s a deacon in your father’s church. People around here are clannish, and they don’t move with the times. Maybe we have couples who sneak around at night to motels over near Jackson Hole, but we really don’t have many who just live together. They get married and raise kids.”

“I’d love to have kids,” Colie said softly. “I can’t think of anything in the world I want more.”

“So do Ben and I,” Lucy said. “But we’re just starting out. We figure we’ll have a couple of years to grow together better before we start on a family.”

“That’s wise.”

“We think so.” She cocked her head. “What about you and J.C.?” she asked. “I’m not prying.”

“I know.” She hesitated. “I don’t know, Lucy,” she said honestly. “He’s already said he’s not the pipe-and-slippers type, and he doesn’t really want children.” She bit her lower lip. “You can’t change people. You have to just accept them the way they are.” Her face was drawn with pain. “I keep thinking, if I’d refused to go out with him...”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Lucy said wisely. “People fall in love. I don’t think they get a choice about who they fall in love with.”

Colie laughed. “No. It’s like your family. You don’t get to choose them, either.”

Lucy grimaced. “Your father would give you a real hard time if you tried to move in with J.C. To say nothing of the rest of the community. There’s barely a thousand people who live in and around Catelow. You couldn’t hide it.”

“I’ve worried about that. I’d like to think I’d say no. But...”

“He might turn out to be conventional,” Lucy ventured. “He knows how your father feels.”

“It wouldn’t matter. I don’t think J.C. had much of a home life,” she confided. “He was more or less orphaned in grammar school.”

“That’s tough.”

“You mustn’t repeat that,” Colie said.

“You know me. I work for lawyers,” she whispered, pointing down the hall. “They’d barbecue me on the front steps if I ever talked about what I know!”

“Same here,” Colie said, laughing. The smile faded as she shuffled papers on her desk, across from Lucy’s. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a settled, happy home. That might explain the way he is. He doesn’t like attachments.”

“He’s obviously attached to you,” her friend said.

“So far,” Colie sighed. “I don’t know how long it will last. We’re very different.”

“May I make a suggestion? Stop trying to control your life and just live it.”

Colie drew in a long breath. “That’s what I keep telling myself. Then I remember how Daddy looked when I said I was going out with J.C. and I feel guilty all over again. He reminded me that J.C. isn’t a person of faith. In some circumstances, that can be a huge drawback.”

“People compromise,” Lucy said. “Ben and I have. You and J.C. will find a way to be together that works for both of you.”

“I hope so.” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t give him up, Lucy,” she whispered. “I love him too much, already.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’m here. And I’m not judgmental,” Lucy reminded her.

Colie smiled. “Thanks.”

CHAPTER FOUR

COLIE HAD NOTICED that Rodney was acting oddly. He stayed out until all hours. Once, she was up getting a drink of water when he came in. His face was flushed and his eyes looked strange.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.

“What? Okay? Sure, I’m okay,” he replied. But he seemed foggy. “I’ve just had a long drive, all the way from Jackson Hole. I’m tired.”

“You spend a lot of time over there lately,” she pointed out.

He blinked. “Well, yes. There are some presentations on new gadgets and appliances and tools. I go to get familiar with them, for work.”

He worked at the local hardware store as a clerk. She did wonder why a clerk would need to know about appliances, but perhaps that had become part of his duties. So she just smiled and took him at his word.

But the next day, he had company. Colie’s father had gone to visit a member of his congregation who was at the hospital. It was Saturday, and Colie was working in the kitchen when the front door opened.

“Can you make us some coffee, sis?” Rod called from the doorway. “We’ve had a long drive. This is my friend, Barry Todd,” he added, introducing a taciturn man in a gray suit. The man was impeccably groomed, but there was something disturbing about him. Colie, who often got vivid impressions about people, distrusted him on sight.

“Of course,” she told her brother.

He and his friend went into the living room. She heard muffled conversation. It sounded like arguing. Rod raised his voice once, and the other man replied in a sharp, condescending tone.

Colie filled two mugs with coffee and started to take them in, but Rod met her at the door, thanked her and nudged the door closed behind him.

She went back to the kitchen, puzzled and uneasy.

* * *

LATER, WHEN THE visitor left, Colie asked about him, trying not to sound as suspicious as she felt.

“Barry’s a salesman for a tool company,” Rod told her, but he averted his eyes. “We do business together. He’s opening up sales in this territory and I’m going to be his representative.”

“Oh, I see,” she said. “Like moonlighting.”

He hesitated. “That’s it,” he agreed quickly. “Moonlighting.”

“Your boss at the hardware store won’t mind, will he?” She worried.

“Of course not,” he huffed. “He doesn’t tell me what to do on my own time.”

“Your friend dresses nicely.”

“Yes. He’s loaded. Did you see the car he drives? It’s a Mercedes!” He made a face. “All I’ve got is that old Ford. It looks shabby by comparison.”

“Hey, it runs,” she pointed out. “And it’s worlds nicer than my truck!”

“Your truck belongs in a junkyard,” he scoffed. “I’m amazed that they had the gall to actually sell it to you.”

“Now, now, I can’t walk to work,” she teased.

He didn’t smile. In the past, Rod had been happy and joking and fun to be around. More and more, he was short-tempered, impatient and morose.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.

“I’m fine.” He tugged at the neck of his polo shirt. “I’m just hot.”

“It’s cold in here,” she began.

“You’re always cold,” he shot back. He turned away. He stopped and looked back at her. “You still going around with J.C.?”

“Sort of,” she said, surprised. “We went over to the casino at Lander last week.”

He laughed hollowly. “I’ll bet Daddy loved that.”

“He doesn’t interfere.”

His eyes narrowed. “J.C. won’t settle down, you know.”

“I know that, Rod.” She studied him. “You and J.C. were close before you got out of the service. You don’t spend much time with him now.”

“We have different interests, that’s all.” His face hardened. “He’s such a straight arrow,” he muttered. “I guess it’s his background.”

“His background?” she probed, always interested in any tidbit of information about J.C. that she didn’t already know.

“He was a policeman before he went into the armed services,” he said. “Worked in Billings for a couple of years as a beat cop. They said he was hell on wife beaters. Almost put a man in the hospital. The guy had beaten his pregnant wife bloody and threw his toddler down the steps. Killed the little boy. J.C. did a number on him. There weren’t any charges. The guy attacked J.C. the minute he walked in the door with his partner. Bad move. He’s a lot stronger than he looks.”

“I can’t imagine anyone bad enough to hurt a child,” Colie said solemnly.

“The guy used,” he said. “Idiot. You never take more than you need for a buzz. That’s just stupid.”

He was using terms she’d heard at work when her bosses dictated letters about drug cases they were defending.