Chapter 9 Ruger
Ruger
I’m sitting at the conservation office, filling out a report after some idiot decided to throw scraps out the window of their RV to a young bear near town.
Based on the size, it looked like one that just left its mom in the spring, meaning it’s more likely for it to become food conditioned.
Combine that with it being fall, when bears are trying to consume as many calories as possible, and it worries me.
The last thing we ever want to do is destroy an animal, especially when it’s human caused.
Luckily, the bear hasn’t been hanging around town, but now we have to be on high alert for it, and I hope it stays true to its animal instincts.
But even as I worry about the young bear, my mind can’t stop thinking about Wrenley. It’s like every day I’m at work, I spend more time looking at the clock than focusing on the actual work I need to get done. Even now, I’m thinking about our evening routine and what I’m going to make her.
The front door opens, and I look up to see Agnes shuffling in.
Ruger! she yells, which is pretty standard Agnes volume these days now that she can’t hear herself.
Hi, Agnes. What can I do to help you? I say loudly, carefully enunciating every word.
Agnes squints at me. No, I don’t want kelp, she hollers back as she reaches my desk. I’m here to see my son.
If there’s one thing about this town, it’s that there isn’t much shuffle in the folks who live here year-round.
Her son, Eugene, has been the administrative assistant here for more than half my life.
My dad was a conservation officer before me, and I remember Eugene being the fun guy in the office, and that hasn’t changed since I started here. He always has a joke or funny story.
He also has his mom, Agnes, who is a great woman, but based on this short interaction, it’s not exactly surprising the municipal building asked her to retire.
He’s in the back.
My cat? Agnes frowns. Hester died years ago.
I close my eyes briefly, trying to think what I can say that won’t get confused.
Your son, I repeat louder. Eugene. He’s having lunch.
Oh! Agnes waves a hand, finally understanding me. Well, why didn’t you say that?
I just smile, stand, and guide Agnes toward the break room, where Eugene is halfway through a sandwich.
Mom?
I leave immediately before I get trapped in another conversation, sitting back down at my desk and shaking my head with a chuckle.
You alright there?
I look up to see my boss, Darrell, standing in the doorway of his office, mug of coffee in hand.
Yeah, I mutter. Just Agnes.
We both pause, listening to the muffled yelling still coming from the break room behind me.
Darrell sighs and steps further into the bullpen. There are only four desks in here, and they’re rarely all full at the same time. One of them has become the place where old computer parts go to collect dust under the guise of recycling.
Her retirement has certainly brought some entertainment to this place, he says.
I snort. For sure. Though I’m glad that she didn’t bring any of her home baking. I pat my stomach. It’s starting to show.
He pffts as he brings his mug to his lips. It’s showing about as much as a polar bear in a blizzard.
After another sip of coffee, he nods toward me. Speaking of home things, how are things at yours?
Uh… fine.
He gives me a teasing smirk. I bet they are.
Then he sighs, looking faintly nostalgic.
I remember when me and Lucy got engaged.
We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
He shakes his head. And we didn’t even have to deal with long distance the way you two did.
Honestly, I’m surprised you wanted to pick up extra shifts.
I shrug and force my attention back to the paperwork. Money.
I can think of something better than money, Darrell says with a knowing twitch of his eyebrows.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just make a noncommittal grunt that he can interpret how he likes. It’s my preferred strategy when anyone starts talking about my sex life.
Why don’t you head out early, he says. Last cruise ship already cleared out, so the majority of issues that come in are gone with them. He nods toward me with his coffee mug. Go spend some time with that fiancée of yours.
I look at the time. Quarter to four.
The thing is, normally, going home early wouldn’t have meant much. If anything, I would’ve rejected the idea because go home to what? Clean my gun? Reorganize my freezer? But the idea of showing up at the fabric store and picking up Wrenley puts something warm in my chest.
Yeah, I say. After I finish this report, I think I will.
Darrell gives me another conspiratorial smile before disappearing back into his office.
I finish the report, answer two e-mails, and try not to notice how much of a hurry I’m in.
It’s not like Wrenley is waiting around for me.
She’s likely been elbow-deep in costumes all day, and she knows how to get back to the house herself, but now the idea of picking her up, spending more time with her, has settled into my body like an itch I need to scratch.
I head to my truck, the cool fall air biting against my face as I climb inside. The clock changes to four just as I start the engine. Fabric Delights isn’t far—nothing in this town is—but somehow, the drive feels longer than usual.
I pull up outside the storefront to find Audrey locking the door while talking to Wrenley. And Wrenley… she’s smiling a huge, bright smile as she replies.
Audrey spots me first and waves as I put the truck in park. I reach for the door handle, then stop because when Wrenley looks up and meets my eyes through the windshield, her smile widens, and God. She is just so damn beautiful.
Hi, babe, I say as I walk over.
I slide an arm around her waist and press a quick kiss to her cheek. She reacts just slightly, but I still notice.
This is a surprise, she says.
Got off early. I nod toward the general direction of my house. Thought I’d pick you up.
Audrey presses two hands to her chest. I remember when my husband used to pick me up, she sighs dreamily. Now, a quick peck that lasts longer than a second when I walk through the door feels like romance. She looks between us. Sometimes I miss that young love.
Wrenley makes a choking sound. I keep my face carefully neutral, even as something close to amusement tugs at the corner of my mouth.
It’s special, I say. But we should probably get going.
Thank you for today, Wrenley, Audrey says with a wave.
Bye!
I guide Wrenley to my truck, keeping my arm around her waist.
Thanks for picking me up, she says once I open the passenger door. I have to let go of her to do it, and the sudden absence of her against my side feels strangely noticeable. But I could’ve just met you at home, she adds.
Yeah.
So why’d you come get me?
The question catches me off guard a little. The honest answer is I wanted to see you. I can’t say that, though, because I’m not supposed to feel that way, at least not to the intensity that I am.
Instead, I shrug casually and say, Just worked out.
Well, thank you, she says, and then she smiles.
I smile back as I close her door and head toward the driver’s side, reminding myself to keep things in perspective. I climb into the driver’s seat and start the engine.
So what are we going to do when we get to your house? she asks. It’s a little early for you.
A good question with an answer I don’t have. I’d been so focused on picking her up to spend time with her that I hadn’t thought about that, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. I have a pressure valve that needs changing.
She quirks a brow. You want to do plumbing repairs together?
Don’t knock the power of knowing a few basic plumbing things. Even in a big city, it can be vital knowledge. The last sentence doesn’t feel great to say and leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
I know it shouldn’t, considering why we’re doing this, but it does. I’m reluctant to examine that too closely, worried that the second I let emotion into the equation, logic won’t stand a chance, the very thing this arrangement was built on.
She lets out a laugh. Well, as fun as spending my afternoon plumbing sounds, I’ll pass.
You don’t know the excitement you’re missing out on, I tease as I pull to a stop at one of the two stoplights in town.
I look over at her, and the corner of her mouth turns upward, though her eyes stay fixed on the windshield. Maybe one day, I’ll let you teach me.
My heart gives an unexpected kick as I turn my attention back to the road. The thing is, I don’t even care whether we ever touch a wrench. I just want time with her.
Yeah? I say.
Yeah, she responds. One day.
Even if it’s only for a little while, I find myself hoping for as many one days as possible before this is over.
We drive in silence for another moment, and then Wrenley asks, Have you always lived in Alpine Harbor?
The question feels a little out of nowhere, but not in a bad way. Actually, I kind of like that she wants to know a little more about me.
I shrug one shoulder. More or less. I did a stint in Anchorage for college, but even then, I spent most of my time out of town, working on a reindeer farm.
For Santa?
I laugh. Something like that.
What brought you back? she asks, sounding genuinely curious.
Ended a relationship, I say. And my family too. I missed them. I’m glad I moved back, though. Those last few years with my parents were special to me.
She nods, and just like the first time we talked about my parents, I like that she doesn’t say things like I’m sorry for your loss.
Like I put my parents down and couldn’t find them again instead of them being ripped from me before I was ready to say goodbye.
And in the case of my mom, before I even had a chance to.
What about you? I ask, wanting to think of anything else. Did you ever imagine you’d end up here?
She snort-laughs, and it’s adorable. I like that she doesn’t look embarrassed to have made the sound in front of me.
I didn’t even know Alpine Harbor existed until I met Remi, she says, then shakes her head.
No. I think if you’d asked the version of me that existed before my ex came along, I’d have told you I saw myself designing costumes for indie films. I’d still be hoping, somehow, to work my way onto big blockbuster projects.
Historical pieces, mostly. I love the little details in those costumes, the touches you just don’t see in modern clothes.
It’s hard not to smile when Wrenley talks about sewing. I can hear the passion in her voice and see how much it means to her. She glows in a way that’s impossible to ignore.
What changed when you met him?
Well, he was the owner and CEO of a huge fashion house, she says. He did this seminar when I was in the final year of my master’s, and afterward, a bunch of us went out for drinks. She shrugs one shoulder. One thing led to another.
She looks at me, and I know exactly what the another was.
One night, I was a twenty-five-year-old looking for a good time, she says with another shrug, and then the next day, I was in a relationship with a man over twenty years my senior.
Something ugly twists in my gut. This was a man old enough and experienced enough to know exactly how to make himself important to a young woman at the very beginning of her career.
He offered me a job and… She lets out a slow breath. I don’t know. He was just so charming. I got caught up in it. In him.
You know, I say, in true crime documentaries, they always tell you to watch out for the charming ones.
She chuckles. It’s true. You never think it’s going to be you, then suddenly, you wake up one day, and you’re living a life you never planned.
Why didn’t you quit?
Because it looked incredible on my résumé, she says. And he promised me things.
Like what?
My own eco line. Her expression softens slightly. And I got it. It became my baby. Once, a celebrity wore my design to the Junos… She shrugs. I guess I felt like I’d made it. And so young.
I hear what she’s not saying. She credits him for his success, like maybe without him, none of it would have existed.
But I don’t think that’s true. I think wherever she ends up, she will always find success, and she never needed him to get it in the first place.
I also remember being that young and feeling like other people would be the reason for my success and completely ignore the work I put in to get there.
If it was your line, I say slowly, why couldn’t you take it with you?
Her laugh this time is bitter.
Because I trusted him too much. He told me it would always be mine.
Said I could take it wherever I wanted. She stares out the windshield.
He said that using the company lawyer would save me money.
We’d been dating five years at that point.
I trusted him to make a deal that was fair.
I never thought twice about signing that contract because I believed in us so much.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. The sudden urge to fly to Vancouver just to punch this guy in the face feels alarmingly real.
I don’t get it, I say. You’re smart, loyal, hard-working, and obviously talented as hell. Why would he let you go?
Wrenley huffs a laugh. Pretty sure I aged out.
My stomach turns.
He left me for another twenty-five-year-old. She looks over at me. Sound a little familiar?
Unfortunately.
She gives a tired shake of her head. I guess I became an old maid at almost thirty-five.
Well, where is that old version of you now? I ask. You’re free of him.
She’s recovering, she says softly. Resting in a beautiful little town and figuring out what this new version of herself is meant to do.
Something in my chest tightens.
She sounds so open and hopeful, like for the first time in a long time, she can actually imagine a future that belongs to her. And even knowing that future probably won’t happen here, I still find myself hoping she gets everything she wants and more.
I don’t know what to say, so I just nod, hoping it’s enough to show I appreciate her honesty.
Her phone vibrates, and she pulls it out.
Remi wants to go out tonight, she says. Do you think you can drop me at her place?
A knot settles in my stomach. I tell myself it’s ridiculous to be disappointed. Just because I picked her up doesn’t mean she owes me her evening.
Yeah, of course, I say, changing course to go to Remi’s house.
We drive in silence to my sister’s house, where I pull into her driveway.
Thanks, Wrenley says with a smile.
Call if you need a ride after, I say.
Will do.
She closes the door, and I watch her walk to Remi’s door and let herself in. I put my truck in gear and pull out of the driveway to go home, wondering why her plans feel like my loss.