Chapter 18
“ T hat was odd,” Sam said as they climbed back into Celeste’s SUV.
“Which part?” Celeste asked. For her it had been those moments when she cradled him, giving comfort, and he responded by kissing her on the cheek. Easy affection was so far out of her comfort zone as to be declared odd, for certain.
“The part where a horse doctor sewed up my bullet hole and then talked casually about God like they’re besties.”
“I think her husband is a pastor,” Celeste said. Now that she thought about it, she had seen him standing outside one of the two churches in town, changing the letters on the sign.
“Ah, well. There you go,” Sam said, sounding relieved.
“Do you think she absorbed religion by osmosis?” Celeste asked.
“How else?” Sam replied. He was making pictures on the window with the fingers on his good side. For a second Celeste was tempted to snap at him to stop but in reality didn’t care enough and let it go.
“It’s sort of indicative of the whole town,” she mused.
“The whole town is populated by veterinarians and pastors?” he guessed.
“No, the whole town is weird.”
“How so?” He dropped his hand and faced her.
“It’s hard to explain until you experience it for yourself. They’re all very…individualized. Like a hundred years or so ago someone released the inhabitants of an insane asylum on a dare to see what would happen and what happened was that they settled down and reproduced, populating the town of Paradise.”
“Let’s go,” Sam said, tapping the dash.
“What? No.”
“Why not?”
“For the reason I said. They’re weird. And nosy. You’re supposed to be hiding.”
“I can’t hide forever. I could be here a while and we’ve already established me as your boyfriend. It would be weird to keep me hidden now,” he said.
“Don’t make good points when I’m trying to ignore the locals,” she said.
“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s been so long since I interacted with everyday Americans. I’ve almost forgotten how.”
“This is not the place to practice. Believe me. You’re going to regret it.”
“I regret nothing. Ever.”
“Really?” She turned to survey him. She could do that here, where the only traffic consisted of an occasional cow that had escaped confinement from its ranch.
“No. I regret everything, always.”
She faced forward. “What do you know? One more thing we have in common.”
A while later she pulled into a spot on main street and turned off the SUV. “Are you certain about this? It’s not too late to back out.”
“Really? Because it sort of feels like everyone is already watching us. Kind of like a Hitchcock thriller where someone is always secretly staring.”
“More like Hitchcock meets Doris Day,” Celeste said as she caught sight of Maybe and ducked low in her seat.
“This is so exciting,” Sam said.
Celeste gave him a look.
“Hey, if you spent three days stuffed in a box in the back of a truck trying to cross the border, you’d be excited, too,” he said.
“All right, I’ll give you that, but only because of the box,” Celeste said.
“Yes. I knew I’d be able to use that someday to earn points,” he said, pumping his fist in triumph. “Let’s go exploring.”
“There’s not much to explore. Only this street. And it only has a couple of stores.”
“But there are people,” he said, beaming.
“You’re really optimistically extroverted for a terrorist,” she muttered.
He poked her.
“Fine, reformed terrorist,” she amended.
“That’s better. And I am definitely a people person. So let’s go peopling.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, causing Celeste to bite back further warnings. It was kind of cute to see how excited he was. It almost made her wish she shared his enthusiasm. Not that she was a misanthrope. People were all right, some better than others. But she had come here with the express purpose of trying to heal. She didn’t see how that was possible surrounded by so many distractions. And people were always distracting, in one way or another. Solitude. When she got home, she would add it to her list of important things. Right now she yearned for solitude because solitude seemed necessary for healing.
Her glance fell on Sam, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and gaping around town with a fascinated smile, as if he’d landed on the Vegas strip at sunset. There hadn’t been any solitude since he showed up. Strangely she didn’t mind so much. It was kind of nice to have him there to fill the space. And despite everything, he was fun, upbeat, and cheery. Previous to his arrival she would have said someone like that would annoy her. Instead it lightened a little of the weight inside her. But since she couldn’t put a name to it, she couldn’t write it on her list. She needed more time to ponder, to figure out how to achieve the lightness Sam brought, but without Sam of course. Maybe she would try reading again. Maybe what she needed was to get out of her own thoughts. Sam definitely made her do that. Perhaps books would, too.
“It looks like books I used to read about the American West. In fact, I think I saw this place in a documentary,” he said.
“You watch documentaries? I so would have beaten you up if we went to school together,” she said.
“You would have had to get in a very long line,” Sam said, unconcerned by her critique. He pointed across the street. “Is that a general store?”
“It’s a hardware store. Hence the giant sign that proclaims ‘Hardware Store.’”
“Can we instead pretend it’s a general store? With checkers and a cracker barrel of dubious cleanliness?”
“Okay,” she agreed, unable to deny him when he looked so excited.
“Do you think we’ll meet the proprietor?” he asked.
“I guarantee it,” she said, turning to cross the street. She felt a little bit proud that she actually knew Tony, the owner of the hardware store. This must be what it’s like to be a name dropper, she thought as she heard herself add, “I’ll introduce you. He’s a personal acquaintance.”
Sam whistled appreciatively. “Acquaintance. Wow. You must be a somebody.”
She laughed, the giggle thing she hated and had spent years trying to suppress in order to be taken seriously. Sam seemed to like it, though. At the very least it made him smile down at her in a warm and cozy sort of way that made her smile harder in return. In fact they were so caught up smiling at each other they didn’t realize someone was now standing in front of them until he spoke.
“New girl! You’re becoming a regular. Who’s your friend?” Tony said.
“You mean you don’t know?” Celeste asked. She glanced at her watch. “The rumor mill is really slowing down.”
“Elliot is strangely averse to telling me insider police information. But don’t blame me for his morally upright code; he gets it from his mother,” Tony said.
“This is Sam. He’s staying with me a while,” Celeste said.
“Hello, and welcome to Paradise,” Tony said, putting out a hand. “Where do you hail from?”
“Canada, lately,” Sam said, returning his shake.
“I’ve never heard a Canadian accent that sounded so Middle Eastern,” Tony mused.
“I’m a melting pot,” Sam said.
“I would say me too, but I basically arrived on a direct pipeline from Sweden,” Tony said, motioning to his six foot, blond-haired, blue-eyed frame.
“This is some place you have here. I know I’ve only been here ten seconds, but if I could suggest changing the name to ‘General Store,’ it would be a real tourist draw,” Sam said.
“Seeing as how I’m the only game in town, I could change the name to ‘Opera House’ and still attract the same number of people. It’s really a nice racket. During tourist season I can sell anything if I affix a picture of a bear, moose, or huckleberry to it.”
“Does Harvard know about you? You could teach a business ethics course,” Celeste noted.
“Where do you think I learned it?” he returned. Someone from a back office called his name. “That’s my cue, but let me know if you need anything. Might I recommend the huckleberry bear moose munch in aisle five? Makes good gifts to send back east, for those longing to get a taste of Montana.” With a head tip toward aisle five, he was gone.
“I’m suddenly completely surprised there’s no used car lot attached next door,” Sam noted. “Let’s get some of that moose munch.”
“Why? It sounds disgusting,” Celeste said.
“Yes, but it has huckleberries and bears and moose on it, so, you know.” He shrugged and began heading in that direction.
“Who are you going to send it to?” Celeste asked.
That gave him pause. “No one. We’ll save it for the next power outage.”
She didn’t reply because she rather liked the idea of having something to look forward to the next time the power went out which, if rumors were to be believed, could be any time it snowed or iced. They bought two bags of the stuff, which smelled so overpoweringly of huckleberry she knew she’d simultaneously hate it and eat most of it.
“Montana is going to make me fat,” she groused. She had never been much of an eater, usually seeking food for necessity and not pleasure.
“I seriously doubt that,” Sam said, his eyes scraping over her with approval.
“You’re leering,” she said, cheeks warming.
“A boyfriend’s prerogative,” he said, leaning closer to whisper.
“No more mileage from that,” she warned.
“We’ll see,” he said, wagging his brows.
She turned away to hide her smile.