Chapter Two
Wyatt
I hop over the snowbank near the diner and take a left down Main Street toward the new whiskey brewery going up for the Wilder brothers. It’s a major project and the guys at Blackrock Contracting have been working on it for the past nine months… minus me.
I lost my job three months ago, but that’s going to change today.
The second Wade sees me, his eyes roll to the side.
Fair enough. I’ve earned that one. This year hasn’t been a banner year for me, and I’ve fucked over quite a few people, including Wade.
“What do you want, Davis?” He leans forward and grabs his tool belt out from the back of his truck and readjusts his hat.
“I want my old job back.”
He glances toward me, narrows his gaze, then bursts into some sort of hysterical laughter that I’m sure is meant to shame. The man doesn’t look right with a smile. He never has. It’s almost like he was born with a grimace, which makes anything jovial look wrong.
“You think it’s that easy?” A puff of steam surrounds his face as he calls out into the frigid air, “I’ve got talented guys, Davis. Talented guys that don’t show up to my job site drunk.”
I earned that one too.
The wind whips across the street and blows the collar of my jacket up. I have no idea what the temperature is today, but it’s been well below zero with the chill lately. “Fair,” I say, “but it was one time. I was going through a rough patch. You know me, man. I do good work.”
Tool belt in hand, he heads back toward the brick-sided building, shaking his head. “You also don’t show up on time, leave the job site early, and the drunk thing happened more than once.” He slaps me on the back. “Sorry, man. I don’t do second chances.”
“That’s not true.” I jog to keep up with him, tucking my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “Morgan went nuts last year. Folks still don’t know what he was on. Hell, the man nailed himself to the fucking floor, and you gave him a second shot.”
“He’s my nephew. I felt obligated.”
“And I’m practically family.”
He offers another laugh. This one isn’t as theatrically evil, but it still doesn’t look right. “And how are you practically family?”
“Army brothers. A few years apart, but you know what it’s like to come back from that, man. Life isn’t easy.” I have no idea when the last time I begged for something was, but it’s now or never. “I need this job. I’ll do whatever you need.”
Wade tosses his tool belt over his shoulder and stands straighter.
At six foot three inches, I like to think I’m a pretty big dude, but Wade has me beat by at least four inches in height, which makes him much wider too.
He could give me a run for my money, though I’m not sure if he would.
Most people know him as a gentle giant, but I can still see the soldier waiting for a reason behind that facade.
“Have you considered your own business?” He clears his throat.
“You can show up whenever you want, and if you get drunk and cut through somebody’s electrical system, it all falls back on you.
When you fuck around at Blackrock, your bullshit costs us our reputation, which takes food from a lot of people’s families. ”
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly, creating more cold air fog. “I’ve tried odd jobs. They don’t pay the bills. Blackrock is the biggest name in this town. People like the security in hiring a bigger company. You know that, man.”
“Exactly.” He nods and steps inside the building, letting out a rush of warmer air as hammers echo. “People know they can trust us, which means I hire guys who are reliable.”
With that, the door swings shut, and I’m left standing in the cold.
I’m not sure how I expected that to go, but I think I thought he’d at least entertain the idea of my return, or at the very least not laugh me off the street.
Fuck!
I drag my hand down over my beard and stare out onto Main Street where my truck is parked. There’s no new accumulation today, but the wind is blowing the existing snow pretty good, creating intermittent whiteouts.
I’m pretty sure everyone is over this weather. Maybe that’s what got up his ass. I should’ve asked him inside, at the end of the day, closer to his deadline, when he was more desperate.
How the hell did I let everything get this damn low?
I was happy. Alice and I were happy. We had plans for a family and a home. A real life with love, not whatever this is.
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I start up the engine and think over my next plan.
Trouble is… there is no next plan. I’ve burnt out every option I had.
I tried venturing out on my own, but this is a small town, and small towns are rumor mills on steroids. Everyone knows I picked up a gambling problem. After Alice left, the whole place watched me lean hard on the whiskey. Most folks don’t want to work with a man like that.
Can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t hire me either, not with what everyone is saying. It doesn’t matter which parts are true anymore. In a one-street town like this, it doesn’t need to be true to be true.
True becomes what folks are saying.
Honestly, the best shot I have at getting back to work is moving to a town where no one knows my name.
A fresh start. God knows I wouldn’t be the first man to leave a small town in search of a new life, though the idea seems a little foreign to me.
My family is fourth-generation Rugged Mountain folk, and I’ve hung my hat here since I was born.
This mountain is all I’ve ever known. I imagined raising my kids here and taking them to the diner for seasonal meals before going over to the bakery for Josie’s bear claws.
Hell, I imagined Alice and I getting married behind the cabin near the creek where my grandparents and my parents married.
I did all of this to myself.
I know that at some point I’m going to need to stop sulking and let all this go. I made a mistake and she left. That’s the end of it.
I check my blind spot before pulling out into the slushy winter street.
It’s an especially slow day. The buzz of the holidays has worn off, and folks are no longer down from the mountain shopping.
Tourism dips this time of year as well. Vacationers love the fall and early winter months, but once the weather gets really nasty, the allure of tropical destinations beats out our small-town mountain.
I can’t imagine why anyone would prefer the Caribbean over the mountains, but it’s true.
One day, the streets are packed with season-loving tourists.
The next, emptier than a banker’s heart.
I know local businesses take a hit this time of year, but I much prefer this pace. I don’t have to circle until a parking spot opens up, I don’t have to wait for a booth at the diner, and when I stop at the bakery, Josie always has fresh bear claws ready and available.
The stoplight blinks in the center of town, and I pull up to it slowly. I swear the original diner owner paid someone off to have this thing plunked right next to it. It’s pretty hard to miss the special of the day when you’re sat at a stoplight staring straight at it.
Today, it’s their famous mountaintop cheeseburger, a heap of fries, a milkshake, and a hot slice of strawberry rhubarb pie. All for $4.99.
I can’t turn down that much food for $4.99. No one can. That’s why this stoplight works so well.
I flick on my blinker and begin the turn when a woman stepping into the diner catches my eye.
She’s short with long blonde hair and a bright red jacket that reminds me a lot of the one Alice has. She loved it so much because it had these cute hooks that she could snap her mittens onto. Mittens she knit herself.
Fuck, I miss her!
How do you get over someone you know was your soulmate? How do you get over the pain of disappointing them, of knowing you’re the reason they’re gone? How does a man get over the one woman who’s better than every other walking the face of the Earth?
I’ve got to stop doing this to myself. I’ve got to stop thinking about her.
She’s moved on. She’s got a new life in San Francisco. A life everyone claims she’s enjoying. Hell, I heard from one buddy that she was even dating.
Dating.
The woman I need more than fucking air, with another man, doing God knows what.
I’ve thought about flying out there, following her around until I see who this asshole is. I still might. Hell, what else do I have going on?
The thought is tempting. Tempting enough that I pull up flights before I head into the diner. Tempting enough that I search for hotels near her apartment. Tempting enough that I put the fucking phone down before I make another giant mistake.
It’s time to grow up, Wyatt.