19. Montana
It had been a week since Ellison dumped all her yard sale finds into my bedroom. The negotiating process had been intense and fun as hell.
And exactly what I needed.
At the end of the day, it was all trivial, but I appreciate her for forcing me back to the present.
Grandad had scared the hell out of me. The notion that I truly am alone here if anything should happen crippled me in a way I hadn’t prepared for. He’d always been ageless to me, and I’d pushed all the evidence to the contrary from my mind.
Even with Ellison in my arms most nights, sleep hadn’t come easy. We needed to have a come-to-Jesus conversation about what’s going on between us. We’d just jumped back into our old routine like years didn’t separate the then and now. We both deserve answers and a whole lot of truth that’s gonna hurt like hell.
Maybe.
Probably.
Foolishly, I’d thought Ellison returning home would make things easier, but so far, she’d mostly just had me tied up in knots.
Fatigue settles over me as I pull up to the Kettle and Kiln looking for my third cup of coffee before heading over to Sundown Realty. I need to check on Bea’s progress and see what kind of manual labor needs to be done. The woman has proven herself a hundred times over, and I need to make sure Archer and I do our part too.
Opening the pressed-tin door, I step back and hold it wider as a woman walks toward me juggling a messenger bag, a coffee, and a pastry box. I want to ask her if she needs help, but she rights herself just before the threshold and looks up at me and smiles.
Her auburn hair is loose around her shoulders, and glasses frame her pretty face. She looks familiar.
Oddly familiar.
But I can’t place her. The glare of the sun reflects off her dark frames, and she says a quick thank you before hurrying to her car.
Brows furrowed, I make my way inside and meet Karina’s narrowed gaze.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” she asks accusingly with a hand on her hip, and I hold up my hands in surrender. I also don’t correct her that Ellison had kind of dodged that label conversation.
“She just looks familiar is all. Like she reminds me of someone, not that I’ve met her before.”
“Uh-huh,” Karina says, unconvinced as she continues to watch me.
“Do you know her?”
“Sure, that’s Arden James,” she replies, pointing to a framed article on the wall. “She came in here a couple of weeks back and talked to Nicolette and me about opening the Kettle and Kiln—sweet girl.”
Arden James, the new reporter for the Blackstone Gazette. I’d read her last article this morning about the pros and cons of changing the stop sign to a yield at the turnoff for Cedar Lake, the lake that sits on the Clementine Creek-Blackstone Falls line.
It was a fairly riveting collection of testimonies, and I found myself heavily invested in the debate. The thought makes me smile, because if that’s not a small-town problem I don’t know what is.
“Maybe I saw her picture in the paper then.” I nod, my curiosity sated, and turn my full attention back to Karina. “Can I just get a coffee?”
Her eyebrows are somewhere in her hairline as she stares at me. I try for a smile but it’s half-hearted and tired.
“Oh honey.” She makes my drink without another word, all the while throwing sympathetic glances over her shoulder. “Should I make a cup for myself and you can tell me?—”
The shrill sound of my phone ringing cuts her off, and I pull it from my pocket. I mouth one minute before answering.
“Hey, Jensen, what’s going on?”
“You’re never gonna believe this…”
* * *
“I just want to clarify,”I say, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger and honestly afraid of what I’ll find when I open my eyes. “You took Grandad around town and terrorized the good people of Blackstone Falls with…”
“Baked goods,” she adds not so helpfully. “And little plastic cows.”
“Baked goods,” I repeat even though I’ve heard this story no less than ten times, “and little plastic cows?—”
She drops one into my hand, the black-and-white miniature no bigger than a nickel. It’s cute, and I can only imagine the look on everyone’s face as they discovered these things behind plants, hidden in sugar bowls, and generally just not where they belong.
Not that there’s a right spot for a bunch of tiny plastic cows—but still. After hanging up with Jensen, my phone hadn’t stopped ringing with people callin’ to say they saw Ellison and Grandad all over town.
“I mean the article about Jamison’s cows was hilarious, and we thought that’d be the best way to honor them.” Ellison says this like it should be obvious and I’m boring her. It also means she and Grandad planned this. Pretty sure you can’t get these things in bulk around here.
“Blasting country music from the car while wearing,” I continue while ignoring her, “matching Hawaiian shirts.” Her grin is wide, and the mischief in her eyes almost has me cracking. But I don’t. I can’t.
“Technically,” she says rocking side to side, “I’m wearing a dress and it has pockets! Isn’t that fun? And Grandad looks so cute.”
My first reaction to seeing my grandfather was to laugh because in my entire lifetime I’d never seen him wear anything with quite so many colors. It was comical, sure, but unease still weighed me down like a lead blanket.
Sobering, I run a hand through my hair. “Ellison, you took Grandad with you, causin’ a ruckus?—”
“Delivering banana bread and other baked goods is hardly a ruckus, Max. Lighten up a little—seriously, this is like the least crazy thing I’ve ever done.”
“He was just in the hospital and?—”
“And he’s fine. I hear you, Max, I do. But I drove, made sure he wasn’t carrying anything too heavy, and made sure he took plenty of breaks. I kept him hydrated—old man had to stop and pee every ten minutes.”
“Yeah, I know. Sheriff Kade called to ask if Grandad could please stop peeing on the fence posts around town.” I glare at her and she grins.
“What else then? His heart? Montana, he’s fine, and you keepin’ him cooped up all day every day isn’t helping any. He’s doin’ great—his doctor said so. We both needed to get out, so we ran around town and had some fun.”
“But he still needs to take it easy.”
“And he did,” she says, not backing down. “You think I would let anything happen to the man who has shown me more love and affection than my own parents?”
“No,” I say firmly even though a part of me still felt like it had been reckless. “I just wanted to make sure he was safe.”
“And you don’t trust me to do that?” she asks, her voice going up slightly at the end, hurt clear in her tone.
“Ellison…” I groan and look up toward the sky. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
My head falls forward to meet her gaze, a storm brewing in the umber depths. But that’s not what I want. I never want to fight with her. Taking a step forward, I reach for her hands, lacing our fingers together.
She lets me but only barely.
“I didn’t mean it to sound like you didn’t care or that you were unsafe—but it’s just me here, you know? My parents and sisters are gone and it’s a lot. I didn’t realize how much until I saw the ambulance outside the house.”
“You have people who care about you, Montana. Jensen and Celeste, Mason and Bodhi, Archer and Bea—they all rallied for you. For Grandad. You’ve created a family here all on your own, and you need to let them help.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“But you’d do it for them,” she says with a small squeeze of my hand, and I sigh because I know she’s right.
“I will…try.”
Her expression softens just the littlest bit. “Good. And you should know Grandad had a really great day.” She smiles but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “You should go in and talk to him about it.”
“Are…you coming?” I ask slowly, but she shakes her head.
“I think we could all just use a night alone. I have orientation tomorrow for school anyway, so it makes sense that I sleep at home.”
Home.
I want to yell that the rental is not her home. I may own the damn thing, but it doesn’t make it mine, and being in it a handful of days sure as hell doesn’t make it hers. I want her here, in this house with me. I want it to be ours.
But I need to slow down this runaway train before she takes off for the hills. Swallowing down my frustration, I breathe out a sigh. “If that’s what you want.” A night apart would probably be good for us, but it doesn’t make me hate it any less.
Walking her to her car, I kiss her offered cheek and close the door once she’s settled. Exhaustion hits me like a tidal wave as I watch her drive down the road and away from me. It’s the kind that makes me want to drop my ass onto the dirt and wait for the sun to dip below the horizon before ever attempting to move.
It’s a fantasy for another day.
Dragging myself up the porch steps, I catch a glimpse of black fur darting around the house. That cat is gonna cause nothing but heartache, and I’ve already got that in spades. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I head inside to find Grandad and figure out how the hell I’m going to manage this new whiskered complication in my life.