By Proxy (5 page)

Unwittingly, Pepper’s face popped into his mind and he grimaced. He and Pepper had broken up soon after the accident, five months shy of their two-year anniversary. He always knew deep down Pepper wasn’t “the one.” More like arm-candy, a total knockout, sex-on-a-stick, even, but fairly vacuous and extremely self-centered. He had loved the looks from other men as they walked into a posh gala or entered a club or bar of her choosing. He could feel all those chumps eyeing Pepper then turning their gazes to him in wonder: What did he have that they didn’t? How come he could get a girl like that?

The truth? Oh, yeah. She was stunning, beyond stunning, walking-out-of-a-magazine perfect. But, she was also an expensive, whiny, demanding girlfriend, with a little added sprinkle of crazy for the up-close viewer. Sam had stayed with her for so long because he liked the powerful way he felt with her on his arm. He had been promoted to vice president while dating Pepper, and although the advancement was outwardly based on merit, Sam suspected that his girlfriend’s local celebrity status hadn’t exactly hurt his business prospects. The firm seemed to like having a young associate dating such a well-known news personality. And heck, the sex was explosive, especially in the beginning, adventurous and a little rough sometimes in a hot, exciting way. But, after two years, even
that
had gotten mechanical and stale. He probably wouldn’t admit it to most people, but those nights lying next to Pepper had turned out to be the emptiest of his life.

Jenny and Pepper couldn’t be more different. He thought of Jenny sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead, looking so young—more like a scared teenager with her blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders. No trace of the pinched, snippy woman he’d met at the courthouse. Nothing like his whiny, needy ex-girlfriend, either, who would have pitched a fit and found a way to blame him.

His need to comfort Jenny and help her had thrown any previous misgivings about her out the proverbial window. When she had apologized for her earlier behavior it had definitely thrown him for a loop. Now, it didn’t change the fact that she was still essentially an uptight, small-town schoolteacher, but she wasn’t as bad as he thought. Small-town or not, she was prettier every time he looked at her. Sam looked down at his hands, remembering them spanning her tiny waist, and then shook his head, willing thoughts of her away. He wasn’t interested in her getting under his skin.

He changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed his laptop and decided to make his way back to the small lobby, which boasted a sitting area with a fireplace. Nothing fancy, but he could catch up on some e-mails if they had wi-fi there, as promised by the overly friendly front desk clerk. Anyway, even the lobby sitting area had to be better than his dumpy, depressing room.

Walking outside, he noticed a sign with an arrow pointing to the back of the motel that read YELLOWSTONE RIVER. Why not take a look before the sunlight disappeared completely?

He smiled wistfully as he made his way down the dank motel corridor toward the back of the building. He had spent just about every New Year’s Eve of his childhood at his Aunt and Uncle’s Montana lodge betting Kristian whether or not they’d get a glimpse of the Northern Lights. It had been years since he’d thought about New Year’s in Montana. New Year’s in Chicago always included a reliably flashy party complete with too much champagne and loud, blinding fireworks, a far cry from the simple New Year’s Eves of his childhood, spent stealing sips of Glögg, looking for Mother Nature’s fireworks that danced soundlessly across the inky Montana sky like a high-tech laser show in impossibly vibrant pinks, blues and greens.

He found a well-lit, marked path from the corner of the motel, and after a short walk through a brief patch of woods, sure enough, there was the river before him, white water rushing over the rocks in a hurry to get somewhere. He could just make out the mountains in the distance, black peaks in the dying light. It had been a long time since Sam visited Montana but strong, nearly-forgotten memories of a happy childhood engulfed him as he breathed in the crisp, fresh air. It was almost as though he were suddenly in the presence of a long-lost friend, one his heart and mind instantly recognized despite years apart. He smiled, looking up at the myriad stars developing in the increasingly dark sky.

He probably should have felt more inconvenienced by the unexpected change in his travel plans, but instead he wasn’t. It surprised him to find that he was pleased to be back in Montana again, grateful for its timeless, unchanged majesty. He would always have an affection for this wild, untamed state where seasons and geography were dramatic and intense, demanding respect and attention, so different from Chicago or any other city where the seasons and geography barely impacted more than your footwear.

It’s in my blood
, he thought,
this love for Montana
.
Just like my mother and her folks too. It will always feel good to return.

***

When Jenny and Casey got back to her apartment, Jenny picked up the phone book to look up the number of the Lone Wolf Lodge. She called the front desk and asked for Sam’s room, belatedly realizing she didn’t know his last name.

“Umm,” she stalled, feeling ridiculous for calling a man whose surname was unknown to her. “He checked in today? The guy from Chicago?”

“Oh,
him
,” replied the operator, her voice warming. She covered the mouthpiece and called softly. “Sir? Sir? There’s a call for you.”

Jenny creased her eyebrows
. Hmm. He was hanging out in the lobby?

“Hello?” His voice rumbled deep and clear on the line.

“Hi, Sam, it’s me. Jenny.” She was nervous. Aside from her brothers, or the occasional father of one of her students, Jenny didn’t talk to men on the phone very often, and certainly not single men as handsome as Sam.

“Jenny who?”

“Jenny from today. From th-the court house?”

“Not ringin’ a bell.”

“Huh. Really? Well, we—”

Then she heard him chuckling and grimaced. He was teasing her. Again.

“Hi, Jenny. What’s up?”

Didn’t he say he wanted to take her out to dinner? Had she imagined that? “Umm, did you want me to pick you up?”

“Uh. Sure. Okay.”

Jenny bit her lip. Had she somehow gotten this wrong? “Are we going, um, to go out to dinner?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“N-n-no! No! I just thought… Maybe I didn’t.” Her face must be beet red. Thankfully, he wasn’t there to see it.

He chuckled again. “Jenny Lindstrom. I would love to take you out to dinner. If you’re still free tonight.”

She tried not to smile, but his laughter was contagious. Well, she might be smiling, but he didn’t have to know. Anyway, two could play at this game. “Well, now I don’t know if I am.”

“Aww, Jenny. Come on. I promise I won’t tease for the rest of the night.”

She jumped on that. “Really?”

“Really. No more teasing. And if I do, you get to choose a punishment for my bad behavior.”

“It’s a deal. I’ll be there soon.” She smiled merrily, as she thought of “punishments” to fit a big-city blowhard and hung up before he could answer.

Tonight might be fun, after all.

***

Sam was unexpectedly pleased with the quaint downtown area of Gardiner as he walked alongside Jenny on their way to dinner. The village had a surprising variety of restaurants, probably owing to the Yellowstone connection, and it was like a movie set out of an old cowboy picture suddenly updated for the twenty-first century. Neon signs cheerfully beckoned folks into western-styled saloons and grills, and storefronts were so authentically Old West he would have sworn they had been regenerated from abandoned ghost towns.

Jenny seemed to know everyone they passed. He couldn’t count the number of times he heard “Hey there, Jenny” or “Hi, teach!” from passersby. Jenny always answered with a cheerful smile and wave, often answering back more personally: “How’s the ankle, Clive?” or “Wonderful singing in church last week, Mary Beth.” She was clearly a fixture in Gardiner.

He also noticed the curious looks
he
received, walking next to her. Some approving, mostly from the ladies, who nodded or simpered. Some suspicious, mostly from the men, at least one of whom tried to stare him down as they walked by.

Only one older lady actually stopped to ask, “Now who’s this a-walkin’ with you, Jenny?”

She looked up at Sam then answered the lady with a friendly smile, “Kin of Ingrid Nordstrom’s fiancé.”

Without another word, the lady stuck out her hand and offered Sam a beaming smile. “Thankey for what your kin’s a-doin’ out there in Afghanistan.”

Sam was caught off-guard by her kindness yet confused by her handy knowledge of his cousin. Kristian was from a small town five hours north and, as far as Sam knew, had met Ingrid at college and never spent much time in Gardiner personally. It seemed unlikely the woman would know him. After she walked on, he looked at Jenny quizzically.

She grinned. “Prayer Circle at Grace Church. They pray for Ingrid and Kristian every week. Especially for Kristian’s safe return.”

Sam walked beside her in wonder that small towns like Gardiner still existed, where everyone knew and looked out for one another.
Wow, that’s nice.
He looked beside him where she strolled along, hands in her parka pockets, white earmuffs covering her ears. She was kind to everyone they passed and so pretty in her jeans and boots. That uncomfortable feeling rolled around in the pit of his stomach again: the beginning of a foreign, instinctually inconvenient feeling he wanted to ignore.

“Here we are!” Jenny exclaimed, gesturing to another western-style storefront where a royal blue neon moon wearing a bandit’s mask blinked jauntily overhead. The Blue Moon Raccoon Saloon.
Oh, good Lord, that doesn’t even make sense!
He raised his eyebrows at her and followed her inside.

***

He was behaving himself. Jenny smiled as she looked at the menu. And she had thought of such a terrific punishment for him too. She sighed.
Oh, well
,
the night is young
.

“What?” he asked.

She peeked at him over the menu.

“You sighed…nothing look good?”

“Oh.” She looked away.
Poor Sam! If you only knew…
“No, I love it here. The pizza’s very good.”

“I tell you what, Jenny.” He smiled back at her and closed the grease-stained paper menu. “Your turf, your choice. You order. I’ll go along with whatever’s good.”

“Then I choose pepperoni pizza. It’s good. I promise.”

A blonde, chubby waitress came over to take their order.

“Heya, Jennnn,” she drawled with a guarded expression, chewing her gum like cud. Her bovine eyes flicked to Sam sitting across from Jenny and brightened. “Now who is
this
?”

“Hi, Tess.” Jenny’s nose turned up a touch and she pursed her lips, ignoring the question.
Great. If it isn’t Fast Tessie.
“Large pepperoni and two Cokes, okay?”

“Oh, I’d like a beer, please,” Sam interrupted. “What have you got?”

Tess turned her entire body to face Sam and gave him her thousand-megawatt smile. “I got what-
ev
-er you want, sugar.” She straightened up, throwing her shoulders back, which pushed her breasts out toward his face like twin torpedoes seeking a close-range target. Sam looked down at the table in embarrassment and Jenny tilted her head to the side, rolling her eyes and giving Tess a disapproving look.
What nerve! She doesn’t see me sitting here? Sam and I could be
together
, for goodness sake!

“
Hei-ei-einey
-kin…
Bu-u-u-sch
…,” she drawled flirtatiously, drawing out each word as suggestively as possible, while she batted her eyelashes and snapped her gum subtly between offerings.

“Heineken. Great. Hei-Heineken is great. Thanks.” Sam finished quickly, seemingly as anxious as Jenny for Tess to move on.

“
Heiny
-kin. Mmmm-hmmmmm,” she groaned. “Coming up in a jiff.” She winked at him and lingered for a moment smiling until Jenny cleared her throat loudly. Tess narrowed her eyes at Jenny and hmphed once before she sauntered away.

***

Sam grinned at Jenny’s expression. Her pursed lips made her feelings clear as she watched the eager waitress head over to the bar.
The age-old battle between the “good” girl and the “bad” girl
, he thought, rubbing his lips absentmindedly with his index finger as he studied Jenny.

Sam had no interest in Tess’s come-ons and obvious availability. He’d seen it all before. What he hadn’t seen in a long time was someone like Jenny: a nice girl, in the traditional sense, like his mother or sisters. He found Jenny’s exasperation completely adorable.

“I’m sorry about that, Sam.” She had caught him staring at her and seemed to assume he was offended by a little silly flirting. “She is just—”

“It’s fine, Jen,” he answered, the nickname sliding off his tongue with ease, as he smiled at her, his gaze briefly dropping to her lips as they relaxed.

“No, it’s
disgraceful
. She always— I mean, she has just
always
been like that. When we were in seventh, she came to Wednesday Night Fellowship with me, but I couldn’t find her at the end. Well, when I finally did, she was
doing things
in the coat closet with two boys from Big Sky. She just…I don’t know. Some girls are just like that, I guess.”

“I guess. Unless boys from Big Sky are especially racy?”

She looked at him, he supposed, to see if he was teasing her, but he kept his face carefully neutral.
No way I’m getting busted for teasing.

“Not especially,” she answered, thinking it over. “Just those two, I think. Mostly I know some very nice people from Big Sky. Anyway, none of them ever came back to Wednesday Night Fellowship.”

He glanced down at the table grinning and swallowed back all of the teasing comments he wanted to make, most of which included the observation that they may not have
come
to Wednesday Night Fellowship, but Sam was fairly certain they
came
somewhere else. He had promised not to tease her, after all. He didn’t realize how tough it was going to be.