“A mulligan.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. That’s good. I’d like a mulligan.”
She’s worried about me
.
She could have been killed, but she’s worried about me and my feelings.
It made him uncomfortable, so he pushed it out of his mind. “Um,” he started. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head at all? Did you—”
“No.” She sat up a little straighter and clicked the seatbelt to finally release it, rubbing a spot on her chest where it must have pressed into her skin. “No. I didn’t hurt myself. The airbag didn’t even…I’m fine, Sam. Just a little—”
“Shaken up.” He offered her a sympathetic smile.
She nodded, and tears filled her eyes again, as she bit her lower lip. “You’re very kind. And I was so terrible…”
“Jenny. I was an hour late. We missed the appointment and the weather got worse. You had a right to be upset, okay?” His face softened. “Anyway, we’re taking a mulligan, remember?”
She sniffled and nodded but looked unconvinced.
His fear for her came out in a rush. “I was worried. It happened so fast. You could have—” He paused. “You were lucky.”
Jenny swiped a tear rolling down her cheek and nodded again.
Sam leaned closer to the car and took her hand from her cheek. It wasn’t as tense now, almost pliant, but still cold, and he rubbed it between his until he realized she was trying to gently but firmly pull it away. The blotchiness on her face had deepened with a more recent infusion of pink.
She swallowed, pushing his coat away. “Let me give you back your—”
“Are you sure? It’s a warm coat.”
“It is. Thank you for it. But, I have my own. In the back.”
Moving quickly, Sam opened her back door and grabbed the parka from the floor where it lay tossed and crumpled.
“Easy now.” He reminded her as she stood up. “You could be in shock. Maybe we should have your car towed, and I’ll drive us both back.”
“No. I’m okay, Sam.” She spoke clearly and decisively but softened her delivery with a smile, then stepped into the coat as he held it for her. She zipped it up and pulled the hood over her head, turning to him. The white fur framed her face and her eyes were even bluer after crying. “I’ve spun out before. Lots of times. I don’t know why it got me so upset this time.”
“Hey, it’s pretty upsetting to lose control like that. You’re entitled to some nerves. You think you’re okay to drive?”
Jenny nodded. “I do.”
“Sure?”
She gave him a small smile and nodded. Sam turned, heading to his car.
“Sam?”
He faced her, eyebrows raised.
“I’m grateful to you,” she whispered, holding his eyes with an earnest intensity.
He smiled at her again before returning to his car.
***
It took Jenny a few turns to get her car pointed back in the right direction. Back on the interstate, she took it easy, driving slower than she normally would.
He was right. She
was
shaken up.
She couldn’t remember the moment she had lost control of her car, but she had let up on the gas and remembered not to slam on the brakes as soon as she realized that the car wasn’t responding. Mostly she held onto the steering wheel with an iron grip so that regardless of what the car was doing, she wouldn’t make it worse by jerking the wheel.
Her heart was finally slowing down and her breathing was returning to normal, but the adrenaline rush left her eyes heavy and thick, and she rolled down her window, thankful for the bracing gust of cold air against her burning cheeks.
Jenny had been in several spinouts in her life. No one could live her whole life in Montana and not hit a patch of black ice now and then, but truth be told, she hadn’t had an accident in several years—certainly not since her mother’s death. The thought of her father and brothers having to face her loss after suffering so brutally through the loss of her mother made her wince. Stinging tears sprang back up, unwanted, in her eyes.
Stop crying, Jenny. Nothing happened. You’re fine.
She looked in her rearview mirror and was comforted to see Sam following behind.
I must look a sight
. She groaned. He probably thought she was a crazy woman: crying, then laughing, then apologizing for her behavior at the courthouse. But, Lord, she couldn’t let him think she was the bitter person he thought she was, and apologizing seemed more important than anything else in that moment.
The sound of his rumbling baritone saying her name imprinted itself on her brain and she listened for his voice in her head, savoring its warm concern. He had spoken to her so gently, his brown eyes so earnest and solicitous of her. Holding her hands. Giving her his coat. Giving her a mulligan
. “I was worried.”
Jenny shook her head, ashamed of herself. She had misjudged Sam from the start.
She promised not to make that mistake again.
***
Jenny pulled into the parking lot of the Lone Wolf Lodge and idled for a moment as Sam parked his car and walked the short distance over to her. She rolled down her window.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I was just a little shaken up is all. My car’s fine. I’m fine. Really.” She kept her voice as polite and controlled as possible, offering him a poised smile. Certainly he had had enough of her hysterics for one afternoon. “Thanks for…everything, Sam.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll…” He gestured to the office then walked away, swinging his bag onto his shoulder with masculine ease.
She rolled up the window and pulled out of the parking lot, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she watched him amble away.
What a day!
Goodness gracious, Jenny, you should get in bed and throw the covers over your head. With your streak of bad luck, you’ll probably be hit by lightning if you leave your apartment tonight!
She shook her head, smiling at her silliness as she drove the short distance home. She was a sensible girl, not prone to superstition and fancy. Anyway, she’d had Sam there to look out for her, hadn’t she?
Sam.
Sam’s brown eyes hovering over her so concerned, taking her hand to warm it in his… A shiver went down her spine as awareness spread warm through her middle. Although she would trade the reason it ended up there, she
liked
feeling her hand between his.
Once home, she took off her heels and stockings and carefully hung her gray dress on a hanger and put it back in her closet. She took out her favorite jeans, a white turtleneck and an old Norwegian sweater that used to be her mother’s. It felt good to be out of those Sunday clothes, and besides, she needed a hug from her Mom after the day she’d had. Wearing her sweater was the only way Jenny would get one.
Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet
. She crossed her arms over her chest, opposite hands touching opposite shoulders, and breathed deeply in and out, taking her time, finding her mother’s face in her mind and focusing on it. She closed her eyes as she inhaled and re-opened them as she exhaled, just as her mother taught her. She whispered the Norwegian words over and over like a mantra or a prayer.
Someone loved me once. I am blessed. Someone loved me once. I am blessed.
She felt calmer and more centered as she headed into the kitchen and slipped her stocking feet into thick, rubber snow boots while Casey whined from her pen. She had adopted the Golden Retriever puppy shortly before Thanksgiving and was still amazed by how much having a pet had changed her life. She had to come home from school at lunch to walk her, and days like today when she was out of town meant finding someone else to look in on her. Housebreaking her was proving challenging and at least one of Jenny’s slippers had been ruined by Casey’s razor-sharp baby teeth. But there was nothing quite like coming home to a puppy, whose wiggly body and wet hellos took the edge off of a bad day and just made a good day better.
“Come on, Casey Mae,” she said as she lifted the puppy out of her pen, rubbing their noses together with delight. Puppies’ paws always smelled like Fritos. Jenny loved that.
Casey wriggled and squirmed, trying to lick and gnaw on Jenny’s nose, thrilled to see her but angry to have been left alone so long. Jenny giggled. “Quit it, you! Mamma’s had a rough day, Little Bit!” She pulled Casey’s bright red leash from the hook, and snapped it securely to her dark green collar. She would have to change out the colors after Christmas, but for now, Casey looked like the perfect little Christmas puppy.
Jenny snapped a tiny jacket around Casey’s jiggling body, and then wiggled into her own parka. She didn’t bother zipping it up; it was only 35 degrees, unusually balmy for early-December in Montana.
Jenny and Casey started down the stairs from their apartment above the Prairie Dawn Cafe & Bookstore and out onto Main Street. The sun was low in the sky now and gave an Old West, sepia tint to the small town around her.
Jenny had lived in Gardiner all of her life, like her parents before her, and grandparents and great-grandparents before them. A small town located in the southernmost part of Montana, on the Wyoming border, Gardiner was also the northernmost entrance to Yellowstone National Park, which meant a brisk tourist business year-round, but especially from May to September. Jenny’s father owned and operated a small but highly reputable tour-group business that took small groups into the park for custom-designed excursions depending on the interests of the tourists. Hot springs groups, wild animal-viewing groups, hikers, leaf peepers. They came year-round, and her father’s schedule was always busy.
The town itself offered more amenities than other small Montana towns as a result of its connection with and proximity to Yellowstone. There were several shops offering tackle and bait for fly-fishing on the Yellowstone River, a saddlers shop, camping and outdoor store, bookstore, internet café, and several boutiques and restaurants. There was only one pharmacy in town, but it carried DVDs if you wanted some entertainment.
It had just about everything a person could need
, she thought defensively.
She saw two men arranging a banner between streetlights on opposite sides of the street, and read the words GARDINER ANNUAL CHRISTMAS STROLL SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2.
Tomorrow night!
Jenny loved the Christmas Stroll. She had been so distracted with Ingrid’s news and request she had forgotten all about it. She smiled with anticipation, enjoying deep gulps of the clean mountain air.
She passed Joe’s Lodge on her right and waved to her brother Erik, who was working at the bar. Erik was the youngest of her brothers, though still older than Jenny by sixteen months. She briefly considered stopping in to tell Erik about the spinout and get a big hug’s worth of brotherly sympathy, but it would just worry him unnecessarily. Plus, the boys didn’t know about Ingrid’s proxy wedding, and she wasn’t ready to explain. He gestured for her to come in, but she pointed to Casey, shook her head and shrugged. He mouthed “See you on Sunday,” and she nodded and waved, continuing on her way.
Casey pulled her across the Yellowstone River bridge and by the Grizzly Guzzle Grill, where she briefly admired the cheerful blinking lights and Santa scene in the window. Her brother Lars suddenly appeared on the other side of the window, surprising her with a funny face. She shook her head and giggled as Casey pulled her forward with puppy enthusiasm. As they neared the arch Jenny was breathless, telling her to slow down.
At the Roosevelt Arch, Casey obediently turned around to head home—she knew the routine—but Jenny regarded the monument for an extra moment, trying to see it through the eyes of a visitor instead of a lifelong resident. President Teddy Roosevelt himself had laid the cornerstone of the massive stone arch in 1903 as Jenny had been told many times by her parents and grandparents, and even by her great-grandmother, who had lived until Jenny was six years old and remembered attending the ceremony on the actual day with lifelong pride.
What would Sam think of Gardiner after living in a place as sophisticated as Chicago?
She cringed, then chastised herself and straightened.
Who cares what
Sam
thinks of Gardiner! If he can’t see what a treasure it is
—
Jenny loved Gardiner and all of Montana, for that matter, with her whole heart, but she had no illusions about where she lived and would make no excuses for it. With just shy of one thousand citizens, and a downtown area smaller than Soldier’s Field, Gardiner was a universe away from Chicago. But it was a good, solid place to live with kind people who cared if you lived or died…and didn’t that matter more than the bright lights of a big city?
She walked home at a leisurely pace, making Casey heel, mulling this over. It’s not that she wouldn’t like to see other places. She had visited Billings many times, of course, and she had attended college at the University of Great Falls, where she had spent four memorable years. Billings and Great Falls couldn’t compare to Chicago, which was fine with Jenny. It didn’t matter what Sam or any other visitor thought. Deep in Jenny’s heart she knew: Montana would always be home.
Chapter 3
Jenny had mentioned it was the
nicest
place.
Huh.
Sam stood in the doorway of his room and made a face, thinking of the Four Seasons, where the company put him up whenever he was out of town on client business.
If this is the nicest, I’d hate to see the worst.
The room was small and drab with a polyester patchwork bedspread covering the double bed and very little in the way of amenities or decoration. Still, a bed was a bed, and Sam certainly wasn’t in Gardiner on business, so it was hardly a fair comparison.
What a day.
He plopped down on the lumpy mattress, lying back and shuddering as his mind replayed Jenny’s car spinning out over the highway lanes. She could have been seriously injured or worse. Her face when he had first approached her car had scared him to death, staring straight ahead with her hands frozen to the steering wheel.
My God, what if—what if—
The flashback came on swiftly. He hadn’t been as fortunate as Jenny. His car had crashed into a guardrail on a major highway in October, and he had suffered a cracked rib and a concussion which required several days of hospitalization for observation. Luckily, aside from being a little banged up and pretty sore at the time, he was good as new now. He only felt a slight, occasional twinge in his chest as the rib healed completely. The accident itself had scared him, though, and had additionally acted as a wake-up call, making him re-think his life and the path he was on.