Chapter Nine
Alice
I wasn’t surprised when Jesse Kelly stopped by my desk two days later. First, he was a fixture at the library, and second, because of the conversation I’d had with his father.
The last two days, I’d mulled over my choice to give Jesse information about the camp, and finally decided I’d done nothing wrong.
If either of his parents ever came inside the library, I would have spoken to them first. Maybe I should have made more of an effort there, but I’d been excited to tell Jesse about the opportunity I’d found for him.
Only to be ripped a new one, as much as I hated that expression.
I rose from my seat and smiled. “Hey, Jess.”
The way he rubbed the back of his neck reminded me of his dad. “Hey, Ms. Clark. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course you can.”
Jesse Kelly was something special. He’d been curious since the day I met him, never too shy to ask questions and learn about the world around him.
The first couple years, his interests were varied, bouncing from one topic to the next.
Lately, he’d homed in on robotics and history—two subjects I wouldn’t say matched, but that was how his mind worked.
“Well, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I didn’t know my dad was going to come in here, and I don’t know what he said, but I hope—”
I raised my hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Your father had questions I hope I was able to answer. Don’t worry even for a second.”
His brows rose, crinkling his forehead. “Yeah? Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I waved it away. “It’s in the past. Now, tell me about your club meeting yesterday. Are you guys ready for the competition?”
His whole face lit up, his worries falling away.
“Almost. We worked on adjusting the gripper arm because it wasn’t rotating smoothly enough to grab the blocks off the ground.
We figured maybe the motor was bad, but it turned out one of the wires was loose.
So we fixed that, and now it’s working way better. ”
“That sounds really awesome,” I said, smiling at the way his hands moved as he explained. “Did you get to test it out?”
“Yep, ran a full practice match, and we killed it. Except”—he grimaced, shoulders hunching a little—“we realized it was too heavy on one side. Every time we turned it too fast, it tipped, so we had to take off part of the frame and replace it with a lighter panel. I think it’ll work better now, but we won’t know until we test it tomorrow. ”
I leaned my elbows on the desk. “That’s how real engineers do it. They solve problems on the fly.”
He grinned, ducking his head sheepishly. “I guess. I just hope it works. If it tips during competition, I might throw up right there on the mat.”
I laughed. “Let’s hope for everyone’s sake it stays upright.”
He laughed too, his shoulders relaxing as he rocked back on his heels. “Thanks for listening, Ms. Clark. It…helps. Talking about it.”
“Anytime, Jess. You know where to find me.”
He nodded and stepped back, but before he turned to go, he said quietly, “And thanks again for the camp thing. I still really wanna go.”
My chest tightened, but I kept my smile, hoping against hope he wasn’t disappointed. “Let’s cross our fingers. No matter what happens, though, you should be really proud of yourself for all the work you’ve put into learning robotics. I couldn’t be prouder.”
His ears turned pink, and with a little wave, he hurried back toward his favorite table to study at, leaving me with a heart that ached in too many ways to count.
For the second time since I’d taken over as head librarian of Sugar Brush Community Library, Caleb Kelly strode up to my desk. I didn’t even have to look up to know it was him. The wall of him blocked out the light for miles around, and his footsteps were rolls of thunder in a calm sky.
Even knowing it was him, I took my time looking up…and up…and up. Not as a power move—to brace myself for his next onslaught.
Finally, I stood, meeting his gaze head-on.
“Hey,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck like his son had a couple hours ago. “Am I interrupting?”
I flung my hand toward my computer. “Just…you know, work. It can wait a minute or two.”
“Good.” He nodded and dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you. It wasn’t right. I could tell you I have a lot going on right now, but that’s no excuse.”
“No, it isn’t. I have a lot going on as well, but I don’t take it out on other people.”
He jerked slightly, as if I’d surprised him with my rebuke.
Dang it, he deserved it.
He’d made me feel about two inches tall—on top of rejecting me a couple weeks ago.
He swallowed, glancing down at the floor before looking back at me. His eyes were like melted chocolate, so earnest, it made something inside me twist.
But I ignored it. Or tried to.
“I read the information,” he said. “About that camp. Robotics and coding and engineering…sounds like a good opportunity.”
I folded my hands in front of me, fighting the urge to fiddle with the hem of my sweater. “It is. It’s one of the best STEM camps in the country for kids his age. I thought of him as soon as I heard about it.”
“I believe that, and I understand why it’d be good for him.
” He nodded slowly, rubbing his jaw like he was working something out in his mind.
“The thing is, I’ve got five years left with him.
I know he’s not staying in Wyoming for college, and if I’m honest with myself, he won’t be back after he gets his education.
At least, not to live. The thought of losing some of the little time I have left kills me—and I already have to split it in half with his mom. ”
“That makes sense,” I said, and I meant it. No matter what I felt about Caleb, I didn’t doubt he loved his son down to his bones. It was part of what made him so attractive to me.
Dang it.
“It’s no excuse, though.” He pinned me with more earnest staring. “I shouldn’t have stormed in all half-cocked and gotten in your face. There was no call to do that, and I’m more than sorry I went there with you.”
“I accept your apology.”
He sighed, and it was a tired sound, like the weight of the ranch and his son and his entire life pressed down on his chest. “Appreciate you doing that. And for looking out for Jess. He loves coming here, talking to you. I’d hate to ruin that for him.”
“You didn’t.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “You couldn’t.”
“Thanks.”
He looked so worn out, standing there in his dusty jeans and gray T-shirt, boots scuffed, hair tousled from his hat. A part of me wanted to reach out, smooth his hair, and tell him he was doing a good job. But I kept my arms tight against my sides.
The truth was, it would be easier to get over him now.
After seeing this side of him—the rigid, defensive side that lashed out before thinking—I didn’t want to hold on to the little hopes I’d carried for so long.
He’d also shown me, while I’d been pining away for him, memorizing his tells and hanging on his every word, he hadn’t even bothered to learn a single thing about me.
“Anyway,” he said, shifting his weight. “I’m going to look into the camp. See if we can make it work.”
“That’s great. I think he’d thrive there.”
His eyes flicked over my face, lingering for half a breath before he nodded and turned away. As he walked toward his son’s table, I let out a slow, quiet sigh.
Maybe it would hurt a while longer. Eventually, I’d let go of what I’d once wanted with him.
What I wanted now was someone who saw me from the start—and didn’t need to be convinced to treat me with care.
Joy waylaid me as soon as I ducked behind the bar. She’d been watching me like a hawk the past couple weeks, as if waiting for me to break down.
“Not ready to quit yet?” she asked.
I laughed as I took off my jacket and grabbed my apron. “No. I told you I like working here. It’s not about the money.”
She crossed her arms. “How’re you ever going to build a life when you’re either here or at the library every second of the day?”
I tied my apron in a neat bow. “That’s a gross exaggeration, and you know it. You haven’t let me work Saturdays in ages.”
“’Cause you should be out there, enjoying your youth. I’ve never been one to think a woman needs a man—you don’t—but everyone needs to let loose.” She tugged on the ends of my hair. “You let your hair down, now what’re you gonna do about it?”
I took her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze before dropping it. Joy wasn’t the touchy-feely type, so I didn’t push my luck.
“I went shopping last weekend—with other people.”
Elena and Margot had swept me off to Cheyenne, just like they’d said.
Now I had drawers and a closet filled with clothes they’d stamped their approval on.
And they’d been right—purple was definitely my color.
I may have gone overboard with it, but that was okay.
I doubted anyone but me would notice what I was wearing anyway.
Joy nodded. “That’s a step in the right direction, at least.” Her mouth turned down as she peered at me. “You ever want to talk about her?”
My hand paused on its way to tucking my hair behind my ear. “Who?”
“Your sister. You haven’t said a word since you got that letter. I’ve been waiting for you to bring her up.”
I stuffed my hands in my apron pockets, sighing. “There’s nothing to talk about. We weren’t close. It’s sad she’s gone, but she didn’t have an easy life. The last few years…I don’t know how bad it got. She wouldn’t allow it. She’s not in pain anymore, though, and that’s a relief.”
“All that might be true, but that’s all her. You didn’t say anything about you—how you’re feeling.”
I should have known this was coming. Joy wasn’t one to drop things, and despite our differences and her gruff, closed-off nature, I didn’t doubt she cared about me.
“I think…” I bit down on my bottom lip, searching for the right words. “I think I did my grieving when Silla cut off contact with me. And…I guess I’m sad about what a waste her life was, and that there’s no possibility of reconciliation. But for me, she’s been gone for a long time.”
Joy clamped her hand on my shoulder a little too hard, like she wasn’t used to comforting someone.
“I hope that’s how it stays, Alice. If it hits you out of the blue, you come to me. I’m not much of a hugger, but if you need it, my arms are open to you.”
She left me quickly, avoiding my glassy eyes and the little sniffle I couldn’t hold back. She shouldn’t have said such lovely things if she didn’t want to deal with the consequences.
Pulling myself together, I went to work, taking orders and delivering drinks and food with my brightest smile. After all this time, the movements were rote, so my mind drifted.
To Caleb and his too-late apology. To Jesse and the miracle of his curious mind. To Silla, who hadn’t let me love her, no matter how many parts of myself I gave. To Joy, who had let me in despite herself.
I kept Joy’s words closest. They were a reminder I wasn’t as alone as I sometimes felt. I had at least one person in my corner without me having to ask.
The thought didn’t take away the sting of rejection or the deep, hollow ache of loneliness, but it steadied me, giving me something to stand on when the floor felt shaky.
Exactly what I needed.