Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
VIVIAN
Normally, I use Mateo’s karate class for grocery shopping and maybe popping into the knitting shop, but today, my first stop is Bitterroot Community College to meet Professor Milankovitch.
When I enter the campus café, I find him in the back, by the big window where he likes to work on weekends, his laptop screen propped open, and a Dodgers baseball cap pulled low on his head. I expected someone older, but he’s probably late-thirties, with dark brown hair and a clean-shaven face, and a wedding band on his left ring finger. He’s also wearing boots, like he likes to hike. But I guess that makes sense, because he’s a geologist.
“Vivian?” he asks.
I offer my hand and he stands up to shake it. “Can I get you anything?” he asks, nodding at the counter behind me where students are ordering coffee drinks and pastries.
“No, thank you,” I say.
“All right, but next time, I won’t take no for an answer.” He flashes me a smile, then sits back down.
I tuck into the chair across from him, and he slides a small envelope toward me. “Everything looked good. ”
“Great,” I say and tuck the envelope into my purse.
“Would you be willing to take on more next time?”
“Yes, as long as I can get it done in my spare time.”
“Ah yes, the day job.”
I laugh. “Yeah, and the mom job.”
His eyes turn curious. “A mom, huh? How old is your kid?”
“Seven,” I say.
“He keeps you busy, I bet.” He sits back. “All right then, I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you again.” I stand and sling my purse onto my shoulder.
He gives me a nod before returning his focus to his laptop.
Once I’m in my car, I can’t help but count the money, just to be sure. It’s all here, then I drive straight to the cash machine and deposit it.
Watching Everett ready the horses is nothing short of cowboy porn. He’s dressed in faded Wranglers that are tight in all the right places, scuffed boots, and a waffle-knit henley shirt scrunched to his elbows, revealing those muscular forearms. He carries saddles and cinches them into place, moving with a familiarity that speaks volumes to not just his confidence, but his passion for this life and the deep knowledge that comes with doing something hundreds of times.
Then there’s the gentle way he is with the horses, talking to them like there’s some secret language they share. I don’t know why these things have me in such a chokehold, but I’m practically panting from my perch against the stall door.
After we returned from Mateo’s karate class and I made us lunch at the cabin, Nelson gave him his first riding lesson. Everett and Logan showed up soon thereafter with Greta. The way Mateo’s face lit up when he heard them all cheering for him will be forever branded on my heart .
After, Matty begged to stay behind with Logan and Greta, who both assured me they’d love to have him along. The sudden, easy freedom to say yes to going riding with Everett was so foreign that it took me moment to soak it in. After spending the last six days with Everett’s family, their warm welcome has grown into something lasting, and genuine.
Maybe I’m not destined to be such an outsider after all?
“I wanted to give you an update on the break-in,” he says while fussing with straps.
“Do you know who did it?”
He shakes his head. “I’m waiting on some forensics. I should have those results next week. Hopefully we’ll get lucky.”
He means with fingerprints or DNA left behind by the person who broke in. Something they can try to match with a database. But even if they get the person’s ID, it won’t clean up my trailer or replace the contents of my fridge and pantry.
“Did you talk with your landlord?” he asks.
“Yes. He sent someone to fix the locks yesterday. I snuck down there during my lunch hour to get the new keys.” I block out the glimpse I didn’t want of the interior and the condescending scowl from the locksmith. Did he think I caused the damage inside?
Everett glances up, his serious brown eyes in shadow beneath his hat. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“No, but… at the very least I need to go back and salvage what I can. Clean.” I heave a sigh, puffing my cheeks. Then there’s the new mattress and couch I need to buy, the food and toiletries to restock. I should have been using my spare time to do this already, but going back has been harder than I anticipated.
“You aren’t doing it alone.”
My stubborn independence sparks to life inside me. “Everett,” I say, my voice tense.
“Sepp and Hudson want in, too. My parents said they’d be happy to watch Mateo. ”
To have a team of people ready to jump in like this makes my face hot and my breaths shaky. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I think a simple ‘sure, I’d love some help’ would do it.”
His teasing softens the discomfort a little. “Sure, I’d love some help.”
He winks. “Okay, let’s get you up, make sure the stirrups are the right length.”
June’s spare boots feel good on my feet, giving me a boost of confidence as I slip between the two horses loosely tied to twin hitches just inside the barn. My horse, Buck, is a gentle giant with a shiny mahogany coat and a dark mane. Despite his name, Everett assured me he’s docile and dependable. Though Buck let me pet him and stroke his strong neck earlier, the prospect of climbing onto his back feels like something the two of us should discuss first.
Once I’m standing near the left stirrup, Everett comes in close behind me. His warmth and that fresh pepper scent mixed with the smell of leather and horses is enough to make my blood heat and my pulse tap faster. I force out a firm breath to get my attention back on Buck.
“Reach up and grab the pommel with your left hand and the saddle with your right, then tuck your left foot into the stirrup.”
It’s awkward lifting my leg like I’m Spiderman scaling a building, but I get the ball of my boot into place.
“Now you’re gonna gently weight that foot and as you rise, swing your right leg over the saddle.”
I eye Buck, but he’s facing the barn’s opening, his eyelids half-closed, like the anticipation of me jumping on his back doesn’t faze him.
“Ol’ Buck’s ready for you. Promise,” Everett says, as if he’s reading my mind.
I rock onto my left foot and pull with my hands, but it’s a long way up and the saddle shifts a little, throwing my balance off.
Everett is there in a flash with his hands around my waist, guiding me up.
“That’s it,” he says as I get my right leg around and settle into the saddle.
Everett flashes me a grin. I pretend that I didn’t just have my ass in his face and try to grin back at him.
He fusses with the lengths of my stirrups, those competent hands moving so efficiently. What would those same hands feel like on the rest of my body?
“Put equal weight in both stirrups and stand,” Everett asks, stepping back, his eyes on my feet.
When I do, he nods. “Looks good. Does it feel good?”
A pulse of warmth washes through me, drawing my heartbeat lower. “I think so.”
He beams.
He leads his horse, a smoky gray mare named—of all things—Smoky, and mine out of the barn. As Buck lumbers along, the feel of his muscles moving beneath me sends a little thrill dancing over my skin.
Everett stops us once we’re clear of the barn, and hands me the reins. “Remember, keep them loose.”
“Right.” Though he taught me what to do with these reins, that lesson has melted away with the clouds thanks to watching this cowboy in action.
In one swift motion, Everett rocks up and into his saddle. If he looked good hauling saddles and sweet-talking the horses, he looks like a dream on horseback.
“We’re gonna take this road,” he says with a nod. “Just give Buck a gentle squeeze with your legs.”
Everett clicks his tongue to get Smoky moving, and I fall in next to him on the double track. The smooth leather saddle creaks in time with Buck’s pace. It’s not exactly comfortable, but the view through Buck’s ears of the expansive prairie dotted with Nelson’s herd and the distant Bitterroots makes up for it.
“How’s it been with Logan out of school?” I ask.
“I’m pleased to report that he hated detention this morning.” He shakes his head. “We’ve got a mountain of homework to do this weekend.”
“They don’t give him a break?”
“Ha. Nope. And I wouldn’t expect them to.”
A soft breeze whisks through the tall grass lining the fence and teases a few strands from my braid. I tuck them behind my ear. “He was just defending that poor girl.”
“It’s not that I don’t sympathize.” His face tenses in a grimace, and he shakes his head like he’s trying to clear a memory. “I don’t want him to go down the path Linden did. Not just because of the trouble it caused him, but it’s dangerous. Violence can escalate like that.” He snaps his fingers for emphasis.
We follow a long curve in the double track that hugs a gently sloping ridge, the squeak of the saddles and the soft hoofbeats of the horses filling the silence.
“Has Logan been in fights before?” I ask.
Everett shakes his head. “And he knows how his uncle struggled, and how hard it was for me to watch.”
“Kids his age can be impulsive. How is he feeling about it?”
“Like it was a mistake.” He squints at me from under the brim of his hat. “But whether or not he chooses differently next time is the big question.”
Will I be dealing with this type of challenge when Mateo gets to be Logan’s age? I’d like to think my sweet, bright kiddo wouldn’t act out, but there’s no predicting how kids change as they grow.
A breeze scented with sage and earth tickles my cheek. I savor the sun on my shoulders and Buck’s steady gait. I’ve never been much of an outdoorsperson, but it’s easy to see how a place like this could soothe a person’s soul.
“How come you didn’t grow up to be a cowboy?” I ask.
He laughs. It’s rich and hearty and full, and makes me smile.
“I like being outside and I don’t mind the work,” he says. “But it’s a tough way to make a living. ”
“Being a cop is pretty tough.”
“It can be. But it’s the kind of tough I’m good at.”
I shoot him a curious look. “Let me guess. You were the peacekeeper growing up?”
He gazes out at the prairie. “Something like that.”
“Did you always know you wanted to be in law enforcement?” Kent told me it was the only job he ever wanted. It’s hard to think of what it’s cost him. Or maybe he doesn’t see it that way.
“I wanted to be a US Marshal.”
My respect for him jumps another notch. “That’s not exactly an easy job either.”
“And not one I could do as a single parent.”
“Right.” US Marshals are stationed in big cities. “I get the feeling your folks aren’t upset that you’ve stuck around.”
He nods. “And honestly, I don’t know that I could have stayed away. Even if Logan hadn’t come along. My family means everything to me. And it’s an honor serving my community.”
“I get that.”
We crest a shallow saddle. Below, edging the fence we’re following, a pole barn sits stacked with hay bales and a tractor. Beyond it, to the north, a creek meanders through broad prairie flanked by a forest of pine and aspens that slope upwards to bare green foothills.
“This is where we feed out in the winter. It’s a little more sheltered,” Everett says, then points to the long row of fencing that separates the cows from the creek and the forest. “We put in game-friendly fencing a while back for the antelope that migrate through here. I’m surprised we aren’t seeing any today.”
“It’s beautiful.” To think Everett grew up here, with all this wide-open space and stunning mountain views. It’s like a movie set, only it’s real.
“There’s a little lookout up there,” he says, nodding to the knoll on our right. “You can see the whole valley.”
“Can the horses get up there? ”
“They could, but maybe you’d like to stretch your legs?”
“Yes please.”
In one motion, he swivels off Smoky and unlashes a coil of rope from the back of his saddle, then clips Smoky to it and ties it off to the fence.
He walks to my left side and gently takes the reins from my hands. “Just like you got on, only in reverse.”
It’s surprisingly easy, except my foot gets a little stuck, making me hop. Everett wraps his arm around my middle to steady me, chuckling a little. “Whoa there. Next time remember to take your foot out on your way down.”
Part of me wishes it didn’t feel so good to have his arm around me like this. The other part is ready for more. “Right,” I manage as a bright heat begins to glow in my belly.
Everett clips Buck like he did with Smoky and ties him to the fence.
My hips are happy to be out of the saddle, and from the way Buck is yanking up the tall grass growing along the fence, he’s content for a break too. We cross the double track to a faint dirt path leading up the side of the hill. The earth is still a little wet from yesterday’s rain, filling my senses with the scents of sage and rich earth as we round the shaded side of the hill.
“Have you done much hiking since you moved here?” he asks.
“I’ve taken Matty on a few short ones. I don’t exactly have the freedom to do go on my own.” The steady climb is making me a little winded, but it feels great to move.
“Life of a single parent.” He steps over a muddy section.
“Toughest job you’ll ever love,” I say.
“Ha!” He smiles back at me. “I think that’s the army.”
“Single parenting is way harder than the army. Way more lovable too.”
“True.”
“Is Logan’s mom in his life at all? ”
“Not since he was a baby.”
There are only very few circumstances where one parent gets full custody. “She gave him up?”
“Yep.”
The hurt in that one word makes me wince.
I know what that’s like.
“Teresa didn’t tell me about him until he was six months old.”
“Oh, Everett.” I gape at him. “That’s awful.”
He glances at me, his deep brown eyes steady. Framed by the soft green hillsides and distant mountains, he looks every bit the capable cowboy, but what he’s telling me is a reminder that he’s not immune to being hurt.
This version of him entwining with the demanding cop he was the night of the break in is crumbling my defenses one by one.
“That day I met him, he came home with me. Didn’t even have a car seat.”
I suck in a gasp. “That’s so dangerous.”
He gives a soft grunt. “So was leaving him behind.”
I can’t hold back anymore and reach for his hand. His callouses rub across my palm, creating the slightest bit of friction that makes an electric pulse tap under my skin. “I’m sorry. I’m not judging. Sounds like you were dealing with a lot in that moment.”
He stares at our hands, then our eyes lock. “All of a sudden, he was my whole world.”
“He’s turned out pretty good, I’d say.”
He laughs. “Except for trying to clobber two eighth graders.”
“He’ll find his way.”
We walk together up the final rise, our hands still clasped. I should let go, but I can’t seem to.
The top of the knoll is a dark rock slab, the cracks filled with pale dirt and the tiniest yellow flowers, faded to almost white. A stiff breeze cools my cheeks while I take in the expansive view of the broad valley, the sparkling blue surface of Bear Lake in the distance, and the confluence of the Clearwater and Finn Rivers just visible in the afternoon haze. June and Nelson’s sprawling homestead sits like the jewel of Ruby Gulch, shaded by pine, golden aspen, and cottonwoods. My little cabin is just out of sight, but I can see the road curving around the ridge, and the tall grass lining Little Grouse Creek.
“Wow, it’s so pretty!”
Everett squints sideways at me, a sly smile on his lips. “Sure is.”
Butterflies take flight inside my chest as he steps closer. He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, his thumb stroking beneath my earlobe. Our eyes lock, and it feels a little like falling.
I know what’s happening, and I don’t know how to stop it.
I only know that I don’t want to.
I close my eyes as our lips touch, the softness of his mouth on mine such a wonderful contrast to the prickle of his beard. He tugs on my lower lip just a little, making the butterflies swoop low inside me. I step closer to him and rest my hands on his waist. The firm strength of his body under my fingertips is almost as perfect as the tenderness of his mouth on mine.
Have I ever wanted a kiss this badly?
A low groan rumbles from the back of his throat. He caresses the tender place behind my ear. The roughness of his skin where I’m so sensitive creates that perfect amount of friction. Like a push-pull I could spend all day exploring.
He flicks his tongue against my top lip, then he kisses me again. It’s still tender, but I sense his hunger, too. I kiss him back, my grip tightening on his waist. A powerful craving rises through me. How could I have forgotten the pure delight of being kissed? It’s playful, like dancing, and unscripted, like we’re warping the bonds of time to make it last. I could float right off this rock.
I close my eyes and press my lips to his again. We’re standing close enough that my breasts brush against his chest with each of my quickening breaths. The idea of his lips and his prickly scruff on my skin sends my pulse thumping lower, harder.
A steady chirping cuts through my thoughts .
Everett leans back. He’s breathing fast, his hand still cradling the back of my neck.
“It’s okay,” I say.
“It’s not, actually.” He huffs a breath, then kisses my forehead. “I’m going to need more of that later.”
Me too , I think as he reaches for his phone.