By Proxy (20 page)

“Mammoth Springs?”

“Hot springs. They’re really interesting, I promise. We can park and walk around on the Boardwalk a little bit. They’re especially beautiful in the winter because you can barely tell where the white calcium deposits end and the snow begins. And it’s going to be all misty with the fog. You’d think with all the salt and heat the snow wouldn’t have a chance, but it’s pretty dramatic.”

He glanced over at her and smiled. “Your dad brought you to the park a lot growing up?”

“Dad’s an expert on northern Yellowstone, and all of the boys help with the business. Nils is good with the business side, and the ladies love Erik, but when it comes to Yellowstone, I think Lars knows the most.”

“And you?”

“I only lead private tours,” she said, winking at him playfully.

“Oh, I see. Lots of private tours?”

“Nope. I have a client list of one.”

“Any chance it could stay that way?”

“You’ll have to let me know how I do.”

“So far?
Awful.
You should never give another private tour again.” She burst into giggles and hit him lightly on the shoulder. “However, if you want to sharpen your skills, I’d be glad to be a repeat customer.”

“Hard to make that promise from Chicago,” she observed. She had meant the comment to be light, but it fell with a thud, and she cringed at her clumsiness.

Quit it, Jen. Today is supposed to be fun, not sad!

Sam turned into the parking lot for the springs and winked at her. “Never say never, Kitten. Life can be surprising.”

***

They stopped at the Norris Geyser Basin, where Sam took pictures of Jenny with his iPhone. They skipped Old Faithful—Jenny declared it was overrated and not as “faithful” as it used to be, sometimes making the tourists wait almost two hours for an eruption—and drove in companionable silence for a while beside the Yellowstone River, taking in amazing views of the Teton and Absaroka Mountains.

At one point, a herd of four bison crossed the road in front of them, and Sam watched them in amazement as Jenny rattled off fun and interesting facts about Yellowstone’s bison population.

No, he hadn’t known that a bison’s winter coat is so thick and well insulated that snow can cover their backs without melting. One of the few new fun facts he had at his disposal, he thought with a smile.

He was blown away by her breadth of knowledge and how handy it was for her, pulling fascinating facts out of her head and sharing just the right amount of information to keep her dialogues captivating, not boring. No wonder her father’s tours were in year-round demand. If Jenny was any indication, he was well worth the cost, whatever he charged. Sam was impressed by her yet again—another facet of Jenny that gave her depth and dimension, setting her apart and making her special in his eyes.

They headed back up north toward Gardiner and had been driving for a while in the quiet of the car when she said, “Tell me about your mom and dad. How’d a nice Swedish girl from Choteau end up in Chicago?”

He smiled at her sideways then turned his gaze back to the road. “My Mom, Margaret, and her sister Lisabet were small-town girls. Churchgoers, with potluck dinners and summer picnics on the green. Long braids with flowers at Midsummer. A lot like someone else I know, Jenny.” He flicked his gaze to her, smiling, thinking about how much his mother and aunt would approve of Jenny if they ever got the chance to meet her.

“Anyway, my grandparents owned a bed-and-breakfast style lodge up there. Mostly for hikers headed to the Rockies, or people from Great Falls looking for an overnight getaway. That sort of thing. My mother and aunt worked at the lodge, which by the way is not in my family anymore, but is a pretty swanky vacation spot, if you’re ever looking for a place to stay north of Great Falls. Indoor pool, spa, wrap-around porch, helipad, amazing views, gourmet restaurant. You’d like it.”

“Maybe I’ll check it out sometime.” She smiled at him, encouraging him to continue.

“My Dad was—is, I guess, since he still dabbles from time to time when they need him—a curator at the Field Museum in Chicago, with a specialty in paleontology. I don’t know if you know this, Miss Montana, but Choteau is near one of the most important paleontology sites in the world, Egg Mountain. Egg Mountain was discovered in 1977, and my father was sent west in 1978 to collect various specimens to be put on display in the Field Museum. He was sent up there for a week, and of course…”

“He needed a place to stay!” she finished for him, her voice conveying how engaged she was in the story.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he pointed to her with his index finger. “Yes!”

“So, how did it work out?”

“Well, there he was every night at dinner, dusty and tired. He wears glasses, my Dad. One night he was sitting quietly by himself eating dinner and my Mom came over to him, and without saying a word, she gently took his glasses off and cleaned them with her breath and her apron before she put them back on his face. When she did, she said, ‘Now I can see your eyes, Sean.’ After that, he couldn’t take
his
eyes off
her
.” He was thoughtful for a moment, thinking of his parents, how in sync they were, how loving, such good friends. He realized once again how much he wanted a marriage like that for himself one day. Someone who loved him, someone who set his heart on fire and was still his best friend.
A triple threat.

“They’re a love match,” he blurted out, an extension of his thoughts. “And they’re best friends. Everything they do is better or more fun if they do it together. You can tell that about them. He told me one time that after he found her, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.”

Jenny sighed beside him and cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t they stay in Choteau near her folks?”

“Because she was a maid in her parents’ lodge, Jenny, and he was a rising young curator of a world-famous museum. It wouldn’t have made sense for him to stay in Choteau.”

“But her family—”

Sam sensed they weren’t talking about his parents anymore and wanted to tread very softly, choose his words carefully. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. She lived in the Chicago suburbs and raised her family near her husband’s work. But we were here in Montana a lot, Jenny. It took some planning and driving and commitment, but we were here regularly. I told you, I love Montana. That’s all because of my Mom. Because going to Chicago with my Dad didn’t mean abandoning her childhood home or her family. She chose my Dad—”

“And left her family.”

He raised his palms off the wheel for a moment in a gesture of frustrated surrender and looked out his side window. This wasn’t going well. She was getting upset and she wasn’t hearing what he was trying to say.

He answered her softly. “Yes. But, they were still her family and yes, it took planning and effort, but she still made time for them. Look how close I am to Kris. Isn’t that evidence that it all worked out?”

She looked out her window then, too, and a tentative silence filled the car as he changed his glance back to the road. When he looked over at her, she was chewing her bottom lip, brow furrowed.

“Looks like waterfalls up ahead, Jen. Great Falls. Fitting last stop, huh?”

He heard her breathe in deeply and exhale. “Sure. It’s worth a look.”

***

As they approached Gardiner Jenny checked her watch. Their drive was almost over, and her resolve to be cheerful was starting to crumble. She had to be at her Dad’s house in forty minutes.

“We have a few minutes. We should stop so you can check out the arch. It’s the major attraction of Gardiner. Who knows when you’ll be back?”

He nodded and parked on a snowy patch of grass in an adjacent parking lot and turned off the car. Neither of them made a move to get out, each feeling the emotional impact of Jenny’s words. She stared down at her hands, willing back the tears that threatened to gather in her eyes. Sam shifted in his seat to face her and reached over to take her hand in his. She looked up, and the tenderness in his eyes was her undoing. The first tear made its lazy way down her cheek, past her nose to rest on her lip.

“Jenny,” he murmured seriously but gently, searching her eyes. “We need to talk.”

He got out of the car and perched on top of a picnic table, looking out at the mountains, waiting for her. She opened her door and walked the few steps to sit beside him.

***

He took her hand in his, stroking her soft palm with the pad of his thumb, his head down, trying to figure out how to begin. Finally he turned to her.

“Jenny, I’ve never met anyone like you, ever. I know we’re still getting to know each other, so this might seem kind of crazy…but I just know for sure I’m not ready to say good-bye to you tomorrow. I know it should be impossible for me to have feelings this strong after only three days, but…” He shook his head, looking down at their hands then back up at her face, seizing her eyes with a fierce longing. “I do. I am falling for you so hard, and you’re here and I have to go home, and it feels
awful
to think of being so far away from you.”

Jenny’s eyes filled with more tears as he spoke to her, and they rolled freely down her face. He reached up and held her face between his hands, dipping his head toward her, placing his lips on each errant drop until her face was covered with kisses instead of tears. Then he reached around to his hip pocket and pulled out an envelope. Her eyebrows creased with questions, looking up at him as he offered it to her. She opened the envelope and unfolded the papers inside as he explained.

“Tickets for Christmas break. I thought maybe you’d consider coming to see me. You could see what Chicago’s like, and we could give
this
a chance, whatever’s between us.” He smiled at her hopefully when she lifted her eyes. “It’s not as bad as you think. Maybe you’d even like it there—”

“Oh, Sam. I can’t go to Chicago. My family’s
here
. My father and my brothers. I can’t just leave them. My life is
here
.” Wide, watery eyes regarded him. She held the papers in her hand, and they fluttered in the cold afternoon wind.

“Just come to visit. Just a visit.” But they both knew that wasn’t what he was ultimately asking her do. He cringed against the sting of his disappointed hopes, rubbing his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. He tried another tack. “You wanted to live in Great Falls.”

“Sam, you can’t compare the two! Great Falls is in Montana. It’s only five hours away from my Pappa and the boys by car. It’s only fifty thousand people. There are over two million people in Chicago. I’d be lost. I’d be swallowed up. The littlest fish in the biggest pond.” Jenny closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. She whispered, “I’d be giving you false hope.”

He breathed in sharply, and when he exhaled he shoved his hands in his pockets, swallowing hard against the growing lump in his throat.

She continued. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea or send you the wrong message, and that’s what I would be doing. I’d be telling you Chicago’s possible for me.”

She swallowed, folding the papers and putting them carefully back into the envelope, which she tucked under her thigh so she could place her hand gently on his arm. “Sam, please look at me. Please. I’m not ready to say good-bye either. I’ve never felt like this. Never in my life. You know I have feelings for you, don’t you?”

He nodded once, feeling a small flicker of hope, but it was quickly replaced by the realization that while she cared for him, she didn’t care enough to come to visit. When he didn’t cover her hand with his, she reached out further and placed her hand over his heart. “You know I care for you, Sam. You know I do.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, lovingly, longingly. When he looked up his eyes beseeched her. “Then
please
, Jenny.”

“I can’t.” Her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears.

He kissed her palm again then folded it closed and placed it back on her lap. “You won’t.”

She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Sam, think of it the other way around. Could you ever live here? In Gardiner? Be happy here?”

He was shocked to hear a glimmer of hope in her voice. Had she hoped he could
possibly
make Gardiner his home?
Unthinkable.
He turned to face her, his face hardened, his mouth a tight line, his eyes cold.

She nodded slowly, as if figuring something out for the first time, and her voice was cooler when she spoke. “So there it is. I can’t be there and you can’t be here.”

“You
could
be. You choose not to be.”

“So do you.”

She took the envelope out from under her leg and handed it back to him still warm from her body. “I’m sorry.”

He took the envelope and pushed it back into his pocket, hopping down from the table, kicking the dirt angrily as he headed back to the car. “Me too.”

Without looking at her, he opened the car door and sat down, slamming the door closed loudly behind him. The engine turned over and Jenny came to his window, tapping softly. He pushed the button to roll it down, but didn’t look at her.

“I’m going to walk home,” she said in a small, shaky voice.

He nodded curtly, staring straight ahead.

“Please, Sam. Please say you understand.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jen.” He
couldn’t
look at her. He couldn’t bear for her to see how much he wanted her, how much he needed her. He knew she was crying, but he still stared straight ahead, waiting for her to back away from the side of the car so he could leave.

“I-I’ll see you t-tomorrow?”

He nodded once. “10:25. See you there.”

He rolled up the window and drove away from her without looking back, banging on the steering wheel twice in frustrated sorrow, unfamiliar tears stinging his eyes.

Chapter 9

Today I say ‘I do.’
It was the first thought she had when she opened her puffy eyes, still raw from crying last night. Somehow, probably because the Lindstrom kids were encouraged to “tough it out” in lieu of tears, she had made it through Sunday supper at her father’s house without breaking down. But holding in her feelings for those two hours made the tears flow all the more freely—all the angrier and more frustrated—when she got back to her lonely apartment.