Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Janey
I was seriously tempted to pretend I got called out before he got here.
Especially after that call this afternoon, adding even more to my already substantial workload.
But then I caught myself.
It’s not like invitations to dinner are a weekly occurrence. On the rare occasion I do eat out, it’s by myself. I’ve been too busy for much of a social life since moving here last year. Hell, I haven’t even started on any of the projects I had hoped to tackle in the house. The place was built in 1976, and I want to bet nothing much has changed since then. Not even the olive-colored appliances.
All that to say, I don’t get out much, so why not enjoy when the opportunity presents itself? Even if it’s just over dinner because I have to eat sometime.
So, instead of bailing, I had a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, left it loose, and put on one of the two dresses I own. I even put on some mascara, even though it had almost dried up in the tube I found in the back of the bathroom vanity drawer. I made an effort.
Not that I should have bothered, since he barely even seems to notice.
Of course, he is handsome as hell. He always is, but the dark navy of his jeans and shirt enhance his good looks even more. Still, he appears a bit distracted, and even though he said our destination is a surprise, I’m starting to wonder if he even knows.
“Is everything okay?” I ask cautiously as he drives us into town.
“Fine. Why?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know, you seem a little…preoccupied?”
His grin is a little shy as he shakes his head.
“Nah. I’m just trying to figure out where the hell to take you.”
I knew it.
“You don’t have to take me anywhere,” flies out of my mouth.
To be honest, I am pretty annoyed. Why the hell would he insist I have dinner with him, when it’s apparently a chore?
“But I want to,” he responds immediately, looking rather startled. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Fair point, I guess. However, I’m starting to think staying home with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of leftover squash soup in front of the TV might’ve been the better choice. Clearly, I’m out of practice socializing and at this point appear to be embarrassing myself.
I let my eyes drift out the side window, but I’m not really seeing the landscape passing by.
“Janey,” he says in a low voice. “There’s a new Mexican food truck parked by the Libby station I’ve heard great things about. I was thinking we could pick up some food there and head across the street to the Riverview Park to eat it. But then you opened the door looking gorgeous in that dress, and I realized you deserve better than a food truck and the park.”
That’s probably the most I’ve ever heard him say at once, but what sticks out is that final comment about me looking gorgeous. I’m instantly blushing like a schoolgirl again. Maybe it’s hormones? Am I perimenopausal? At thirty-eight?
“I like the park,” I tell him. “Mexican food by the water sounds perfect.”
“Are you sure? I was going to find you a fancy restaurant.”
That makes me snicker. “Me? I’m a simple country girl, JD. I grew up on a farm and still spend most of my days covered in animal guck; a fancy restaurant is no place for me. I’d probably use the wrong fork or something. A food truck and the park is more my speed.”
I get a rare flash of strong white teeth between a pair of smiling, full lips, and suddenly my eyes are glued to his mouth.
“Good to know.”
When I snap my eyes up, I catch him watching me before he turns his attention back to the road.
With our orders in hand—two soft beef tacos with Mexican slaw for me, a pair of burritos for JD, and a couple of drinks—we aim for the pavilion on the water’s edge, which currently looks to be vacant. We sit down at one of the few picnic tables under the shelter.
“This is really good,” I mumble around a mouthful of my taco.
The beef has a nice kick, which works really well with the crisp fresh taste of the slaw. Thank God for the stack of napkins the guy stuffed in the bag, because the juices are dripping down my chin. Perhaps not the most flattering food to choose under the circumstances, but I was hungry. Besides, JD seems to be suffering the same fate, his food no less messy.
He hums his agreement.
While we eat, I watch a couple of guys backing their truck with a fishing boat on the trailer up to the boat launch on the other side of the pavilion. One of them seems to recognize JD and calls his name. JD turns around and yells back a greeting.
“Friend of yours?”
“Not really. Played darts with him a time or two at Foxy’s, but that’s it.”
I shove the last bite of taco in my mouth and wash it down with my bottle of water. Then I notice JD is already finished.
“About Foxy’s…” he picks up, as if he was waiting for me to be done. “When I saw you there a few weeks ago, I was actually on my way over to your table but I was interrupted.”
I had a suspicion him wanting to talk to me might have something to do with that awkward encounter. Bringing up the subject feels just as awkward, and I don’t really know what to say, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Britt…she’s just a friend.”
I’m not good at keeping a straight face, and I can feel my eyebrows shoot up in my hairline. Or, apparently, at keeping my thoughts to myself.
“Does she know that?”
JD chuckles at that. “Guess that’s fair. Uh…I thought we were friends…who hooked up a time or two, but when I noticed it might’ve been more to her, I tried to do the right thing. She wasn’t really good at taking no for an answer, so for a while I stopped going in there.”
“You know what?” I stop him, my hands up defensively. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this, it’s really none of my business.”
He’s quiet for a moment, looking down on his folded hands in front of him on the table.
“What if I told you the only reason I pulled into the parking lot that night was because I saw your truck parked there?” he finally asks, glancing up from under his heavy eyebrows.
“I…my truck?” I echo stupidly.
My heart is almost painfully bumping around in my chest, and I’m suddenly mildly nauseated. Mostly because I’m not quite sure what is happening here, and it’s making me a little nervous.
“Yeah, I didn’t think, I just marched in there, hoping to catch you alone. But, clearly, that didn’t go the way I’d hoped.”
I shake my head to stop the swirling thoughts.
“What had you hoped for?” I manage to force out.
It earns me a small, upward tilt of those lush lips.
“A chance for a quiet talk without a bunch of nosy witnesses at all times.”
Then he leans forward over the table, and I’m frozen in place, afraid to even blink.
“I like you, Janey. I’d like a chance to get to know you better.”
JD
I take a swig of my water and sit back, giving my words a few beats to sink in with her.
My mouth is dry from talking more than is normal for me.
I’ve laid out my cards, and all I can do now is wait to see how she takes it.
“Okay, well…uh…” she stammers, before settling on, “what do you want to know? I’m not that interesting.”
I beg to differ. Even though this is the part I suck at—small talk, the bane of my existence—I meant what I said, I want to learn all about her.
“Do you ride?” is the first thing out of my mouth.
She seems a little surprised at the question, but then smiles. Her smile is generous and I notice how her face changes: fine lines spread from the corners of her eyes, and a small dimple appears on her left cheek. I’ve only seen her smile a handful of times and always at a distance. Having that smile aimed at me feels like a gift.
“Love it. I used to try to get out as much as I could when I was still in Eureka, but I haven’t had the time since I came here.” She tilts her head slightly as she narrows her eyes on me. “Why that question?”
I have to think about that for a moment before answering.
“Looking for common ground, I guess. I like riding. Feeling connected with my horse and the land. It’s peaceful, nourishing. Healing, even.”
She nods at my words. “I know. I’d hoped moving here would help the world slow down a little, allowing for more downtime so I could enjoy more of all the things I love to do.” She shrugs. “But these days I’m all work and no play, I’m afraid.”
“I’d like to change that,” I offer.
She scoffs at that.
“You’re gonna have to talk to Phil Jericho first. He called just before you picked me up, it looks like any spare time I might’ve had in the coming weeks is going to be taken up.”
“Libby Roundup?”
“You’ve got it in one.”
Phil Jericho is a former champion bull rider. A Libby native who hit it big on the rodeo circuit before returning home and getting involved in local politics. He’s on the city council for his second term and is getting primed to run for mayor in next year’s elections.
He’s also the organizer for the Libby Roundup, an annual, open entry, amateur rodeo he’s been putting on for the past couple of years. The Roundup is supposed to promote the development of local talent and also act as a warm-up for the much larger, pro-circuit Kootenai River Stampede, which lands in town at the end of July.
The Libby Roundup—which takes place earlier in the month on the Fourth of July weekend, and is combined with a festival on the rodeo grounds at J. Neils Memorial Park—has gained in popularity these last few years. People apparently find it highly entertaining to watch neighbors and friends getting thrown and bucked off when they try their hand at the broncs or the bulls. The surrounding festival is a draw as well, with livestock auctions, an artisan market, a beer tent, a fair, and nightly fireworks.
Something to do for the whole family, and Jericho has smartly engrained himself into the fabric of Libby. He’s well-liked and almost ensured a victory at the next election. Personally, I don’t like him. The man loves himself too much.
“What does he want from you?”
Janey sighs heavily.
“He wants me to cover the rodeo. Mackey Livestock, who supply the bulls and broncs, normally brings their own vet. But, apparently, there was a complaint about animal cruelty at an event they supplied last weekend that has Mackey under close scrutiny.”
“And Jericho doesn’t have time to change suppliers, so he wants you to take responsibility for the animals’ well-being,” I guess.
“Pretty much,” she confirms. “And since Mackey is trucking them in early next week already, I’m going to be swamped.” She chuckles at herself. “If that’s even possible, given how swamped I already am.”
“Have you thought about getting someone else in?”
She eyes me speculatively.
“You mean like another vet? I wish. I sank a lot of money into buying the clinic just last year, and I’m gonna need at least another year or two of hacking it alone before I can even think about taking someone on. I’m lucky to have a third-year veterinary student helping out for the summer, and for the moment I can only afford him and my assistant, Frankie. They keep the clinic going as best they can when I’m out and about.”
Wow. Clearly this takes up a large chunk of her brain space, and I can see why it would.
Not that I have any insight into what it takes to run a business. After college, I worked for four years as a game warden in Flathead County before returning to Libby and joining the High Mountain Trackers. I love what I do and doing a good job is all I have to worry about. I know what my pay is every two weeks, and I live simple with little overhead, so I can save up for a rainy day. I like it that way.
“Can you pass on it?”
“I should,” she says, sounding a little defeated. “But I really can’t afford to. His offer is very generous, and it would mean being able to afford an extra pair of hands sooner rather than later.”
“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” I mutter.
“Exactly,” she agrees. “And since I’d like to have some space in my life for fun stuff before I’m too old and decrepit to enjoy it, my time is fast becoming limited.”
“Oh, come on. We’re not that old yet,” I mock her gently.
“No? Maybe not, but time flies. Hell, it feels like yesterday I left my parents’ farm to go off to college, and that was almost two decades ago.”
She turns her head to look at the Kootenai River flowing by, seemingly lost in thought.
Two decades?
I’d pegged her at around my age—I had my thirty-fourth birthday last month—but I guess she’s a little older. She doesn’t look it, and besides, it doesn’t matter a lick to me, but I get the sense it may matter to her.
Either way, this doesn’t seem a good time to draw attention to it, so I should probably steer the conversation away from the topic of age. But Janey beats me to it.
“I’m sorry I’ve been chewing your ear off with my issues. Whatever it was you had in mind, I’m sure it wasn’t listening to me complain. Can you tell I don’t get out much? I haven’t even asked about you.”
She laughs a bit self-consciously as she rips a napkin into tiny strips. I cover her restless hands with mine.
“Don’t do that,” I gently admonish her. “When I said I wanted to learn about you, this is what I meant; the things that occupy your life. I appreciate you sharing.”
It earns me a genuine smile.
“And I appreciate you listening. I have to admit, you’re a bit of a surprise. Not what I was expecting.”
“Now you have me curious.”
Instead of clarifying, she slips her hands out from under mine and stands up.
“Ah, I’m afraid it’ll have to wait for another time. I have a few overnight patients at the clinic, and Logan is waiting for me to relieve him.”
I get up as well, and gather up the remains of our dinner to toss into the garbage can at the edge of the park.
“I can wait,” I assure her. “As long as I know there will be another time.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I catch her smiling from the corner of my eye as we head back to my truck.
The drive to her place is silent, but I’m enjoying that too. Most people get restless in silence and try to fill it with inane chatter. It’s rare you find someone who is comfortable simply enjoying time and space with you.
“Home or clinic?” I ask when her driveway splits in two different directions.
“Home, please. I have to get out of this dress and into some muck-about clothes.”
I veer left and pull up in front of the house, putting the truck in park as I try to find the right way to share what’s on my mind. I’m just going to lay it out there. That seemed to work the first time.
“For the record; I like the hair and the dress, you look very pretty like this, but you’re no less beautiful in jeans and braids. I’m saying this because I like spending time with you, and I’ll take any time you’ve got available, even if it’s a few minutes for a quick coffee when you’re running from one place to the next.”
The soft smile on her face when she turns to me conveys direct honesty works for her.
“Thank you, and I’d like that.” She hesitates briefly before adding, “Goodnight,” and slipping out of the vehicle.
She’s already halfway to the front door when I catch up with her to walk her the rest of the way.
“Night, Janey.”
She glances at me over her shoulder as she opens her door, and sends another smile.
“Night,” she echoes, before disappearing inside.
As I drive away from the house, I wonder if I missed an opportunity to kiss her. I’ve been thinking of little else tonight, and for a moment there it seemed like she might be open to the idea, but I don’t want her to think I’m only after one thing. So, I’m going to take things slow.
I’ll kiss her next time.