Chapter 26
Alison
As Ali walked into the Bison Brew House next to Clint Maclean, she felt as if she must be trapped in some weird teenage fever
dream.
This was straight out of all her high school fantasies. Clint was as tall and muscular and gorgeous as ever, wearing a Western-cut
dress shirt, Wranglers that looked brand-spanking-new, along with a big silver belt buckle and a pair of tooled-leather boots.
Ali hoped she looked good. She wore one of her favorite sundresses topped with a short red bolero-type sweater in case the
air was too chilly atop the bar.
She could hear loud laughter and the clink of glasses as Clint opened the door, gesturing for her to go inside.
The place was packed with people. One of the newer hotspots in town and frequented by both tourists and locals, the Bison
Brew House was known for live music, fun surroundings and its own microbrewed beer that people seemed to love.
When she had lived here, before she left for college, she had always been too young to go drinking.
Back then, most of her older friends hung out at the Sagebrush Saloon on the other side of town. Now it was slightly disreputable,
dirty and dark, catering to the serious drinkers.
The newly renovated Bison Brew House was trendy and cute, with exposed brick and raw wood walls that looked great in social
media videos and posts she had seen from friends.
After a quick scan of the room, she picked out a few people she knew and gave a friendly wave. It was obvious that Clint knew far more people than she did. In a short time, he had greeted about half of the customers, who all seemed delighted to see him. Were they surprised to see her with him? She couldn’t tell.
“We’re a little early for the band. You want to grab a drink? We could find a seat over there with Smitty and Tank. They’re
waving us over.”
She followed the direction of his gaze and found a few guys she knew had played football with Clint. They weren’t hard to
recognize, since they somehow looked exactly the same as they had back then.
They had been condescending and downright rude to the smart kids. She remembered they were particularly rough on Xander.
Xandork or the Brainiac. That was what they and their friends had called him.
While Xander hadn’t been weak, he had been skinny and preferred soccer to football, which didn’t go over well in the football-mad
town.
Bridger Peak High hadn’t had much of a soccer team when they were in school. It still didn’t, from what she understood, but
Xander had been a natural leader on the team. Still, that didn’t earn him many points with Clint and the other jocks.
She didn’t really want to sit with Smitty and Tank, but she couldn’t see any way out of it, especially when Clint started
heading over to their table before she even had a chance to answer.
Everybody changed, she reminded herself. Maybe the years had matured the jocks, helped them see they no longer ruled their
particular corner of the world.
“Hey, Maclean.” Tank Clark—real name Trevor—gave Clint a complicated handshake.
While the two of them were engaged in that, Smitty was looking at Alison with a look of appreciation.
“Who’s your friend, Mac?”
“You guys remember Alison Wells.”
They looked at her with little if any sign of recognition, as if they had taken one too many hits on the football field. Or
as if she had been completely forgettable.
Which was likely the truth.
“Aren’t you the kid of that big-shot author?” Smitty asked.
“Yes. That’s me.”
To her surprise, he gave her a sympathetic look. “Sorry to hear about your dad. I never read his stuff, but my folks always
said he was the real deal.”
Before she could answer, a server came over wearing a black half apron with the brewery’s logo on it. Ali recognized Deb Sargent,
who had also gone to school with them.
It was hard to escape high school when you lived in a small town.
Deb beamed at their table. “Clint, darlin’. I was wondering if we’d see you tonight. When these two morons came in without
you, I figured maybe you found something better to do this weekend.”
“Or someone,” Tank muttered under his breath with a smirk. Yeah. He actually said that. Wow. She really did feel like she was back in the cafeteria at school.
Either Clint didn’t hear the comment or he chose to ignore it. “I would hate to miss the band. You know how much I enjoy live
music, especially the Canyon Drifters.”
“I do indeed. You want your regular? The Frontier IPA?”
“Sure. That sounds good.”
“And what about you?” the woman asked with a polite smile to Ali that quickly shifted into one of recognition when Ali greeted
her by name.
“Ali! Hi. Sorry! I didn’t recognize you. It’s so dark in here.”
She knew that wasn’t the only reason. They had run with very different crowds, yes. But Ali wanted to think she had changed from her years in high school when she had been eminently forgettable.
“It’s totally fine. It’s good to see you, Deb. This seems like a great place. Have you worked here long?”
“Since the beginning. It’s my brother Paul’s brewery. Did you ever know him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He’s five years older than we are so I guess you wouldn’t. He went off to Colorado for school and learned how to homebrew
then decided to try things out on a bigger scale. So far, so good.”
“It has a great vibe.”
She grinned. “Thanks. What are you drinking?”
She wasn’t really fond of beer. “I’m not sure. What do you recommend?”
“You would like their Prairie Pale Ale,” Clint said, then turned to Deb. “Why don’t you bring her that?”
She had been thinking a Diet Coke with a splash of rum but she didn’t want to argue with him five minutes into her date. “Sure.
That would be okay.”
After Deb left, the three men started talking about the upcoming NFL season, still several months away, and about another
of their friends from the high school football team who had been in a car accident and had a broken leg.
She listened to them joke and harass each other with easy familiarity, feeling the odd person out. They didn’t so much exclude
her as talk around her about people she didn’t know.
She felt out of place and wondered what had compelled her to agree to the date with Clint in the first place. And why had
he asked her?
The self-doubt annoyed her. She was a funny, smart, well-read woman. She had plenty to offer Clint or any man.
“What time is the band supposed to start?” she asked during a break in the conversation, earning a slightly surprised look from Clint, as if he had forgotten her presence.
He looked at his watch. “About fifteen more minutes. As soon as Deb brings our drinks, we should probably head upstairs and
find a table.”
Her question seemed to have reminded them all she was there.
“What are you up to these days, Ali?” Smitty asked. She was surprised to see his interest appeared genuine.
“I finished law school a few months ago and I’m here for the summer helping my grandma at the bookstore while I study for
the bar.”
They all looked impressed. “Wow. Are you going to be one of those hotshot prosecutors like I watch on Law & Order ?” Tank asked.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go into criminal law. Family law interested her more, probably because that was what her mother
had practiced.
“I haven’t decided yet. What about you guys?”
Tank told her he was driving a truck for a box store in Jackson Hole, and Smitty was an electrician who worked for his father.
“Any wives or kids in the picture?”
“Not me,” Tank said.
Smitty looked down at his drink. “I’m divorced. One kid. A boy. Cody. He’s three. Want to see a picture?”
“Um. Sure,” she said.
He pulled out his phone and she saw his screensaver was an adorable towheaded little boy wearing big boots and a cowboy hat
that was three sizes too big.
“Cute,” she said. “He looks like you.”
“Yeah. Poor kid. My wife moved to Idaho Falls so I only see him once a month. It sucks.”
“I’m sorry. That must be tough.” She didn’t bother to point out that Idaho Falls probably needed electricians, as well.
“My divorce lawyer was shit. I should hire you to help me get a better custody arrangement.”
“I haven’t passed the bar so I can’t practice right now. But when I do, I’ll let you know.”
Deb brought their drinks then. “Am I adding to your tab?” she asked Clint in a resigned sort of tone.
“Yeah. If you don’t mind, Deb. I’ll catch up with you. Paul knows I’m good for it.”
She didn’t reply, but Ali thought she saw her mouth tighten slightly. “Make sure you do.”
Ali almost offered to cover their drinks, but the moment seemed awkward enough that she didn’t want to make things worse.
“We should probably head upstairs. You ready?”
“Sure,” she said, grabbing her pale ale.
“What about you guys?” he asked Tank and Smitty.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” they said.
They were heading toward the stairs that led to the rooftop dance floor when the door to the brewery opened, admitting three
guys. Xan, his brother-in-law Jake and Jake’s brother Ty.
Xan’s face lit up with happiness. “Ali!” he exclaimed, then his features froze when he saw Clint’s hand on her arm.
She waved with her hand not holding her drink, her heart giving a funny little kick. She was so very glad to see him.
She didn’t have time for more than a quick hello as Clint ushered her up the stairs.
She hadn’t been up on the Bison’s rooftop venue yet, since it had been finished after she left to go back to school the previous
year. Her few trips home since then had been focused on details surrounding her father’s death and she hadn’t exactly felt
like going out.
She looked around with interest at the twenty or so rustic wood tables with metal accents, along with a small stage in the
corner and a dance floor that could fit maybe thirty people.
During the day, she imagined the rooftop would offer expansive views of town and the nearby mountains. Now, with the stars overhead, string lights stretching from end to end and a band warming up on the stage, Ali found it enchanting. No wonder it had become so popular with the locals.
They found a table among the few that remained. By the time the band starting playing to raucous applause, every table on
the rooftop deck was full—including one across the dance floor where Xander sat with Jake and Ty.
She had never heard the group before, but they were great, playing a mix of covers and originals with a country flair.
“Let’s dance,” Clint said after the band started their second song.
He didn’t give her a chance to argue. He simply grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the dance floor.
For the next hour, Ali hardly had time to catch her breath or even to sip at her drink. Every time she left the dance floor,
Clint or one of his friends would grab her arm and drag her back out.
Xander, she couldn’t help but notice, wasn’t dancing. He was watching the band and talking with his friends. Every once in
a while, she caught his attention on her, but he would quickly look away.
Finally, after Clint led her back to their table, where more drinks had been delivered, she managed to wave off Tank, who
wanted her to go straight out to the dance floor with him again.
“I need to use the restroom,” she said. She didn’t really, but she imagined her lipstick could use some repair and at least
she would have a chance to catch her breath.
She scooped up her purse from their table and headed down the stairs, as the rooftop deck apparently didn’t feature restrooms.
When she looked in the mirror, she was horrified to see she looked like a bedraggled mess. She managed to pull her hair back into a messy bun, patted a dampened paper towel on her neck and cheeks and reapplied her lipstick.
Feeling more like herself, she walked out of the restroom and immediately bumped into Xander, who was coming out of the men’s
room.
He looked great, she thought. He hadn’t gone for Western clothes. He was wearing nice tan pants and a tailored light blue
shirt, open at the neck.
“Hey,” he said with a smile. “You seem like you’re having fun.”
“I haven’t danced this much in a long time. I forgot how exhausting it is!”
“I guess we’re not teenagers anymore.”
They weren’t exactly ancient. She was only twenty-five and Xander was six months older. “True enough. I was surprised to see
you tonight. Having a guys’ night?”
“Jake and Ty are good friends with a couple of guys in the band. The drummer and the bass guitarist. Apparently, they always
try to catch the Canyon Drifters when they play anywhere close to the area. They invited me along.”
“That’s nice of them. It’s a great place, isn’t it? Is this your first time on the roof?”
“Yeah. What about you?”
She nodded. “Probably won’t be my last.”
“You didn’t mention you were coming when we talked this morning.”
They had exchanged a flurry of texts to make arrangements for their upcoming horseback ride into the mountains.
“It was kind of a last-minute thing. Clint stopped at the bookstore today and asked if I would like to come and listen to
the band with him.”
“Ah.”
“I had no idea he planned to meet up with Smitty and Tank. Not sure if I would have agreed to come if I had known I was crashing
a bro-fest.”
“I’m sure Clint wouldn’t have come into the bookstore in search of you if he hadn’t wanted you along.”
She couldn’t read his expression, probably because the hallway was as dim as the rest of the place.
“Weird, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “When he came to pick me up earlier, I didn’t exactly pinch myself to make sure it
was real, but I wanted to.”
“Glad you’re having fun. The band is great.”
“You haven’t been dancing,” she pointed out.
“You know me. I’m not much of a dancer. I’m fine watching everybody else.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“Yeah. On a date with Clint Maclean. I’m sure he would love it if I came over and pulled you away to dance with me.”
“I’ve been dancing with Smitty and Tank, too, and he doesn’t seem to have a problem with that,” she pointed out. “Besides,
Clint knows you and I are old and dear friends. He wouldn’t care if we danced together.”
He didn’t answer and again she couldn’t read his expression.
“We should probably head up,” he said.
“Right.”
He followed her up the stairs and she was weirdly aware of him behind her. When they reached the rooftop, she found three
blonde women had pulled up chairs at their table. Two of them had pulled up chairs, anyway. One was sitting in hers. The six
of them were engaged in an animated conversation. Ali was disconcerted to realize her reaction was mostly one of relief.
“Looks like I’ve lost my spot,” she said.
“You can sit at our table until the crowd clears, if you want. We have an extra chair. Or I can take it over there for you
so you can join them.”
“I would rather drag you out to the dance floor with me,” she said with perfect honesty.
He rolled his eyes, which made her laugh as she held up her purse. “Let me put this down and let Clint know I’m back upstairs, in case he doesn’t see us, so he doesn’t send out a search party.”
When she approached the table, Clint stood up with a look of apology. “Oh, Ali. This is Kirstin, Anne and Mette. They’re visiting
from Denmark. We were just telling them some of the highlights of the area. We can go find another table, if you want.”
“You’re fine,” she assured him. “I’m going to dance with Xander for a few songs.”
A muscle flexed in his strong jawline but he only nodded and sat down again, immediately returning to the animated conversation
with the Danish women, and Ali crossed the dance floor to find Xander.
She wasn’t at all sure why her heart was suddenly pounding and her mouth felt dry.