River's Return (River's End Series, #3) (5 page)

Ben fidgeted around, his annoyance and agitation with Shane clearly obvious. “I already told you: there will never be anyone else.”

“Never?” Shane failed to mask the shock in his tone. But the thought of having only one woman for the rest of his life made his skin crawl, and he felt like scratching. It sounded like a chastity belt for his dick. Imagine, the same woman
for years.
Years
. But then again, Ben had no concept of how long a lifetime actually could extend. Or even how long a year was. Or how boring having only one woman would get.
For years
. He knew. Shane knew that only too well after sleeping with Celia for a few weeks. Point being, after even a few weeks of strictly one woman, he
had
to find another. It was too confinin’ otherwise.

“Never.” The finality in Ben’s tone was the same as Shane’s whenever he began discussing problems with engines or other machinery. Ben’s gaze remained solid on him. Shane squirmed when he glimpsed some sympathy in Ben’s expression. Was he sorry for Shane!? That crazy thought made Shane bristle. There was no cause for Ben to feel sorry for
him
. No, no way. Never. He saw more tail, new and recycled, than Ben had zits. And Shane answered to no one. He took off at a moment’s notice for places in different states and destinations that had nothing to do with the valley. Or the ranch. He lived. He saw. He experienced. He met all kinds of people from all walks of life. Not only cowboys and bikers, but also business men and women. He’d thrown darts in dark neighborhood taverns at ten o’clock in the morning; and witnessed the sunrise over the cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde while cruising through Colorado. He met an ancient Nez Pierce medicine man and learned how to weave old-time baskets. He partied it up almost every year for a whole week at the Sturgis motorcycle rally. He gambled in Reno and drag-raced in Southern California. He
lived
and experienced everything he could. How dare this little fresh-faced, innocent boy who never even left River’s End pity him?
Shit!
Ben’s expression seemed like he thought he was somehow superior to Shane.

“Well, you think so now, but you haven’t really lived, Ben. You don’t know what you’re missing, or if this thing you feel will last as long as next month.”

“I know who and what I love. Besides, your life doesn’t seem all that fulfilling. Otherwise, why do you spend so much time running off to new places, and always returning here,  just to act miserable? And then you run off again. Push and pull. Leave and return. That’s the theme of your life. Meanwhile, I can glimpse the entire world from a single hour spent in Marcy’s company. So you tell me, whose lifestyle is better?”

Shane squirmed again, and started to speak, but shook his head. He didn’t have an answer for Ben that could totally refute him. He did leave regularly, and always returned. Yeah, sure. This was his home. He was clear on that. But his need to leave wasn’t sad, or a cry for help. The departures were necessary because that was when he did all his living. Experiencing new things. Expanding his horizon. Living nearly isolated on the ranch was a very limited existence in the broad spectrum of humanity. Being rural, some stereotypical types of people took up residency there. Shane wasn’t content with mediocrity and traveled high up into Canada, and far down into Mexico. He drove through at least half the fifty states in between, meeting all kinds of people from different backgrounds and milieus. His friends included strippers, hookers, a senator, and some Royal Canadian Mounted Police. The relations with such diverse types deepened Shane’s understanding of what it meant to be a human. Many of them touched his heart as well as his life.

Just because he couldn’t commit to a monogamous, unrealistic love match didn’t mean he had no feelings and did not care deeply for a lot of diverse people. They were people he’d never have learned about or valued if he never left the ranch. He unequivocally recommended travel to everyone. Get out. Live. Work. Go to new cities. And discover little towns. Go to the beaches in Mexico, and the pristine ski resorts in Montana. Go and observe what is out there before acting so smug and assuming you know all about life and what’s important.

But Shane didn’t say any of that to Ben. He let it stand. So what? If, in Ben’s naive, simplistic view of the world, he was kind of a shmuck who slept around and didn’t get the whole meaning of life, so be it.

Shane truly hoped Ben would beat the odds and be one of the few who fall in love so young and manage make it last just like he was spouting. But Shane knew the statistics, and they were low. He hoped for more with Ben, but if Ben didn’t want anymore right now, Shane knew to hold his tongue. He remembered when he was eighteen, and nobody could have told him what to think, or do, or feel about life, and his place in it. And even now, Shane still wasn’t satisfied. So there was no point in doing that to someone else.

“Well, then I’m happy for you, Ben. If you’ve found what you want already. Not many can say that at such a young age.”

Ben raised his chin up. “She makes me glad to wake up each day.”

Shane smiled as if he understood, but really, he didn’t. No one, not a single woman had ever made him glad to be alive. He was glad to be alive for his own sake. Not because of any female presence in his life.

Ben had a shy, embarrassed grin before he got up and shuffled away. Shane stared after him, feeling a strange flutter in his chest. Was it unease? Why did he feel so unsettled? Yeah, maybe. He got up and wandered over to the porch, rarely suffering from such doubts. Few things could make him feel that way. He routinely refused to let others dictate how he felt about anything, or conduct any portion of his life.

Except… he was already feeling a little ashamed in front of Allison Gray for her points about Jett. Points he never thought of, not in the light she flashed on them. And now he was feeling weird. And it was all because of something a lovesick, teenaged boy said to him. He shook his head. It was not his way to doubt himself, or worry about what others thought. He wrapped a hand around the post that held up the porch roof. The sun was dipping down over the mountains across the river. Charlie was skipping, then walking, then skipping again towards the house from one of the pastures.
What was that knot in his chest about? Self-reflection?
He scoffed. He didn’t do that. He didn’t ponder or contemplate life’s eternal questions. He fucking
lived
it. He burned it up every day since his birth. There was no moment wasted, and no stone left unturned for Shane. If he died today, he would have no regrets. He met each moment of the day on his own terms and in his own way. He lived his life to the fullest and regretted nothing.

Jett’s bland, average face flashed in his brain, although he tried to ignore it. He shuffled his feet and leaned on the railing. Okay, he might feel a smidgeon of…
something
, maybe he was just a little sorry for Jett.

Shane straightened up. No, damn it. He didn’t cheat on Jett. He didn’t make any commitments to Jett. He confronted life on his terms. And if that hurt Jett, or Celia for that matter, it was on them. Not him. He was only responsible for his own actions.

He nodded, but there was no one to see it. He did it anyway to prove something to himself. Shit, yeah! He was right. Little, prim Mrs. Schoolteacher just had a different code of ethics. That didn’t mean his was wrong.

Chapter Three

CELIA WANTED SHANE TO come over the following Tuesday night. Charlie had previously asked to stay over at his friend’s house after school, so Shane was free. He was getting a little itchy from sitting around the ranch for four days and taking care of Charlie while trying to advise Ben. He decided he could use the break and needed the outlet. After spending all morning fixing the Ford truck, he was satisfied when he figured out how he was going to retrofit the aftermarket exhaust system. By three o’clock, he felt he’d done a solid day, work-wise, so why not visit Celia and pound out a good orgasm or two? Yup, nothing wrong with that.

“Wow, what was that?” Celia asked after they finished as they fell side-by-side on the bed together. He had managed to rock her entire bed frame with his body and grinned at her glistening sweat, and flushed face.

“Had a good day at work. Felt more invigorated.”

“Wore me out,” Celia muttered as her eyes grew heavy. She shut them and curled up on her side. Shane felt just the opposite, and was even kind of amped up. Ready for a third round. He sighed when Celia’s even breathing indicated she was that quickly asleep. He got up, and the mattress rose higher after his weight was off it.

He glanced out the window of the upstairs room. It was Jett’s damn bed. He looked around at all the signs of the man. A tie lying on the dresser top, some button-up shirts still in a dry-cleaning bag and hanging off the back of the closed door, a few pictures of Celia and Jett with their arms around each other, smiling. He bristled at the strange sense of being an intruder that suddenly filled him. He glanced out to the yard. Teacher was out. He noticed her immediately, and shrugged. Why the hell not go out and say hello to her? No reason he could think of not to.

He grabbed his jeans and put them on before ducking into his gray t-shirt while he thudded down the stairs. Rounding the corner, he wandered into the kitchen where he grabbed a beer. Celia was usually good about keeping it stocked for him. Did Jett drink beer? Did Jett wonder where it all disappeared to? Or was Celia covert enough to keep it steadily supplied? He shrugged as he twisted the top off the glass bottle and threw the cap towards the sink. Not his problem. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. As a guest in the house, he was offered any kind of drink or food he wanted from
one
of the homeowners, anyway.

He slipped the sliding door open and stepped out. It was cool, but sunny, although he could have used a dang jacket. He ignored the goose bumps spreading over his arms and walked further out onto the deck before leaning against the railing. Teacher was sitting on her own deck in a patio chair, resting her legs on the railing. She wore dark slacks, flat, black shoes and a white blouse with a stretchy, knitted sweater over it. A glass of wine was sitting on the table. He glanced down at his phone. Yup. Just about the right time for teacher to come home from teaching class so diligently. She probably relaxes with a glass of wine on her porch almost every day at this time, he bet. She struck him as a creature of habit. And this? Just her way of relaxing after school. Shane would have needed a couple of bottles to survive her job, but that was another story.

“Well, hey there, Teacher Gray,” he drawled. His tone was kind of mocking and sleazy, just enough to prick her with annoyance. “How’d all the molding and shaping of the minds of America’s youth go today?” he called out over the short distance that separated them. She straightened in her chair and turned towards him slowly. Today, her bright red hair was drawn into a loose ponytail. Long bangs framed her face. She really had a flame-red crowning glory. So loud and bright, it seemed to draw everyone’s eyes to it. And the conservative, stuffy-dressing Allison Gray? Shane sensed her hair was something of a problem for her. The way she turned made her blouse pull over her chest.
Big
. He already confirmed she had really big titties under all those layers and fine fabrics.

“Oh… hi, Shane.” She nodded at him as she pronounced his name in a kind of clipped tone. Her scowl made him grin and the disdain in her voice suggested he was
that
student who never quit disrupting her class, or disobeyed her instructions when every other kid politely followed them. He took her pinched expression with another swig of his beer before he jumped over the railing and ambled towards her deck. She frowned when he lowered himself into the patio chair opposite her.

He set his bottle down with a clink and grinned at her weary demeanor. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, “So? How were all the little minds in River’s End today?”

“You really can’t take a hint, can you?” she grumbled as she lifted her own glass and sipped from it.

“What hint?”

“I think I was pretty vocal in conveying my discomfort with you being… here, in any capacity. I ran into Jett over the weekend. He was out playing with their dog and I could barely meet his eyes. He was still kind enough to put out my garbage recycling for Monday. Very neighborly of him. Nice of him. Decent of him. And how do I thank him? By being complicit in his wife’s adulterous affair.”

Shane’s smile slipped. “I didn’t think it would make you feel so bad. If it happens again, Celia will just have to explain to him what I’m doing there.”

She shook her head as her lips pursed into a little bow. “You really feel no guilt about it, do you?”

“I explained to you already how I feel. And sorry, but no, guilt isn’t it,” he muttered, although he hooked his hand around his neck. Perhaps he did get pricked by something, maybe even his conscience, while observing Jett’s presence in the house. “You want me to leave? Are you uncomfortable talking to me?”

He knew he flustered her a little bit. But did he make her uncomfortable? No, that wasn’t really his point. She sighed and her bangs fluttered up off her forehead and back down. “No. I don’t mean you literally make me uncomfortable. I just don’t cherish the circumstances that always bring you here.”

He shrugged, replying, “It’s
their
marriage, Allison.” The usual swagger was absent in his tone. She looked up when he said her name. He smiled finally.

“It seems sad to consider what their marriage actually is.”

“It’s up to them what they choose to do with it. Celia decides who she wants to sleep with. I’m here at her invite.”

“Here?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

He answered with a cocky grin. “Okay, I’m next door to you at her invite. Now? I’m just seeing how my nephew’s teacher’s day went. How was Charlie? Any of that hard work paying off?”

Her eyebrows rose and a glimmer appeared in her eyes at Charlie’s name.
Distraction
. He needed to distract her from
how
he ended up being there.

“He said he’s been doing it each night. I’m kind of shocked you actually implemented it. I assumed you’d wait and hand it all over to Jack. I mean, I knew Jack would do it, but you? No. Never guessed.”

“I’m not totally an asshole. I get it; my nephew has to pass the fifth grade. I want it to go the best it can for him. So of course, I implemented it.” Shane crossed his arms over his chest in mock offense.

Her eyebrows lowered and she nodded. “I’m sorry. That was judgmental of me.”

“And don’t forget Charlie told Jack about it; and Jack instructed me to get on it,” he finally admitted before nearly smacking his own ass. Why was he confessing to her? Who cared what he did or did not do?

She grinned. “Yes, that sounds more like the scenario I pictured.”

He felt captivated by her smile. It stretched deeply into her cheeks and made her blue eyes crinkle and shine. She went from appearing stern, serious, cool and sophisticated, to almost looking girlish. In reality, there was nothing girlish about Allison Gray’s looks or the way she presented herself.

“So, teacher, you never answered; how was educating your students today?”

She snorted. “As if you cared for a minute how my day was, or if I educated anyone.”

“What about me indicates that I would ever bother with mundane silence fillers? I only ask what I truly wish to know.”

She stared hard at him, then a slow smile blossomed. “No. I don’t suppose you would bother. Okay, my day was pleasant. Nice. One of the better ones. No silly stunts. Or students being particularly aggravating, or downright disturbing. It was just… a regular day. No great revelations or accomplishments, but a solid day for instructing fifth graders.”

Her refined voice and the air of self-confidence she had in her own opinions made her strangely sexy to Shane. It overpowered her looks and kind of called to him. She still wore the red fingernail polish.

“Why be a teacher? What made you choose that as a profession?”

“It just fit.”

“It fit what?” He frowned. Her short, confident answer only puzzled him more.

“Me. My lifestyle, and what I wanted out of life.”

“Wanted? Doesn’t it still?”

She shrugged and her gaze drifted out to her small yard. “At one time, it did. But things always change eventually, right?”

Her voice and thoughts seemed miles away from the little deck they were sitting on. He had no idea where her mind was, or what it meant. “Yeah, I suppose. You seem almost passionate about it. But you’re not?”

She shook her head and faced him. “Oh, I am. Believe me, I really love the kids. You asked why I
chose
it. At one time, the hours and work fit into what I wanted to study and pursue. It was more of a calling when I first started. Now? Now, it’s just a job. It keeps me busy and mentally productive. But as we expand the curriculum some of the kids get hurt by it. That’s hard to accept. I prefer not to be the one employing methods that might alienate entire groups of kids from doing well in schools. But the ones who can succeed, need the boost, and our entire educational system needs to be more comprehensive. I just wish the funding were there to increase their opportunities while supporting more effectively those that are hindered in any way.”

Shane blinked. She explained her subject and spoke in a rapid exhalation of words. “What the Sam-hell does that mean?”

She laughed as she combed her fingers through her hair and tidied up the stray hairs that escaped her thick ponytail. “It means globally speaking, our students rate far below most other students in public schools for industrialized countries. So pushing them farther gets even harder and is all the more needed for that reason. But in our efforts to achieve that, a fairly large minority of students fail to grasp the work or keep up, which makes their lives a living hell. Those are the things that keep me awake at night. On a larger scale? Many kids tend to fall through the cracks. And once they fall further behind, there is no longer any safety net to rescue them.”

“People like Erin?” he said quietly.

She nodded. “I thought you’d say like yourself.”

“No. I could have done the work if I wanted to. I sometimes did, so I did the assignments. When I didn’t…”

“You didn’t,” she finished with a small smile of understanding.

He shrugged and smiled back. “Exactly. But Erin could not physically do the work.”

Erin had confessed she could not read a few months after she showed up at the ranch. That was three years ago and she still did nothing to change it. Why she refused to learn to read completely puzzled Shane. Why the hell wouldn’t she? Jack often tried to encourage her, but she always refused. It was hard for anyone to understand.

“Erin’s the kind of student I sometimes hate my job over.”

He stretched his legs out and crossed them. “I would have never guessed you could hate anything.”

“Just because I don’t always mention it, doesn’t mean my negative opinions of things don’t exist.”

Chagrinned, he nodded. “Yeah, I might have stereotyped you.”

“No? Really? I never assumed that. Just because one teacher bugged you, that makes us all stupid.” She snorted as she blew out a breath and admitted, “But I stereotyped you too.”

“And… I’m not what you thought?” he asked as he peeked at her from the corners of his eyes.

She smiled. “Oh, yes. You’re exactly what I thought. But there’s also something, kind of, I don’t know, something very likeable about you.”

A grin spread over his face. “Likeable? I’ve had worse accusations to work with.”

She shook her head as a little smile flirted on her lips. She had nice lips. Kind of bow-shaped with a soft, pearly-pink shine on them. He liked it much better than the fuck-me red of her nails. Pink fit her. Soft, sophisticated, subtle, and pretty. He shook his head. A little lip gloss now had him romanticizing Allison Gray?

“So how was your day? I’m sorry. I guess I don’t know what you actually do.”

“I got a shop,” he said squirming around until he found his wallet, which he flipped open. Removing one of his business cards, he handed it to her just to prove he wasn’t lying.

She took it and read, “Rydell Rides” before setting it on the glass table. “Really? I had no idea you did anything.” Then she clapped a hand over her mouth as she shut her eyes and dropped her face down. A blush covered her entire face and neck. He imagined her warm blush and freckles beneath all those pretty buttons of her blouse and sweater… and no! He had to stop fantasizing about her. Back to the present where she was busy insulting him.