He turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened other than that grating, crunching sound. He turned it again and again, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.
No, no, no, not now!
He glanced at Samara, who raised her eyebrows at him.
“Sometimes it’s temperamental. We’ll give it a moment,” he said, but when he turned the key again, he didn’t even get the grating sound. Nothing. Nada. It was dead, and he banged on the steering wheel, angry and frustrated, because it meant three things:
One? He’d have to flag down a car to get them back to Gardiner because his phone didn’t have a signal this deep in the park.
Two? He’d have a very thirsty, very unhappy Samara on his hands for a little while, and he really wasn’t excited for that, nor how unprofessional it looked for them to be stranded in Yellowstone.
Three? He’d need to come back for the truck and get it towed back into Gardiner. His shoulders slumped.
He wouldn’t get to Jane for hours.
***
A long, hot shower and a change of clothes had helped…a little.
Jane still felt crushed by Lars hooking up with Sara, and his decision to accompany her to Jackson Hole, but after processing the initial surprise, it would have been disingenuous to claim total shock. She had felt sure from the beginning that Lars would eventually choose Sara over her. It had just taken a little longer than Jane had anticipated and in those extra days, recalling his sweetness, a fragile hope had taken root in her heart.
She walked along Main Street in Gardiner toward the Prairie Dawn, feeling the heaviness in her heart. At least I have a quiet weekend to get over him. I’ll be fine when he returns with her on Sunday.
Or would she?
Jane had to admit that of all the men she had met in her adult life, Lars had certainly seemed different. Casually unaware of his own good looks, loving the same outdated music she did, quick with playful banter, making her fingers and toes curl with how good it felt to have his lips on hers.
I admit it. I thought there might be a chance with him. I thought he might be the exception. I wanted him to be the exception.
The pain of admitting her own failed hopes made her eyes threaten to tear up again. The pathetic reality was that Jane Mays was such a terribly lonely person to be. No parents, no real family except for a quasi-loving, overly-demanding uncle who prioritized Sara’s needs over Jane’s. Her only friends were Sara’s personal staff; her life was a series of work-related appointments and interactions with people who wouldn’t care less about her if she wasn’t attached to her cousin’s name.
The ache of her loneliness swept over her, and she took a deep, shaky breath, unable to find a cheerful thought to assuage the pain of Lars’s rejection.
Oh, Jane, she thought with some surprise and regret and huge amounts of sympathy for the pathetic realization she was having. Did you think you could be like Maggie’s aunt? Come to a strange, new place, find real love and start a new life? Did you think that could happen for you?
I think I sort of did, she answered, and then she admitted the truth that she had kept hidden from herself, and certainly from Lars. Yes, I did. I hoped.
“Smarten up,” she said aloud, quietly, under her breath. “You know better.”
She opened the door of the Prairie Dawn and saw her friends waiting at a table in the back.
“Jane! You’re here!” said Paul as Maggie waved her over to the table.
“I’m here,” she answered, glumly, glancing at the empty chair. “Where’s Nils?”
Something undefinable passed across Maggie’s face as she glanced at Paul, before she offered Jane a tight smile. “I don’t know if he’s coming. Had to go get Lars.”
Just his name. Just his name made her ache.
“Go get him? Is everything okay?” Jane asked, hating herself for wondering.
“I guess he and your cousin broke down on the way back to Gardiner,” said Paul.
And that’s all it took for her eyes to fill completely with tears.
She stared down at the table, miserable, unable to conceal it from her new friends. She had promised she wouldn’t cry any more after her shower, but she couldn’t help it. They had probably pulled over to make out, unable to keep their hands off each other. She remembered the sweetness of his lips on hers just a few days ago and felt the tears well up and spill over the corners of her eyes. She stared at her hands folded on the table. She couldn’t bear the sympathy or kindness she knew she would see on their faces if she raised her head.
“You okay, Janie?”
She shook her head back and forth slowly no.
Paul reached over and put his hand over hers. “You want to talk about it?”
She shook her head again and reached up to wipe the tears away, grateful that they didn’t force her to talk. They just gave her a moment, sitting in respectful silence beside her.
Finally she took a deep breath and sighed, looking up at them and wiping her nose with a proffered napkin. “I’ll be fine.”
“Jane, sometimes things might look one way—”
“Paul, I know you’re trying to be nice, but gosh, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jane switched her glance to Maggie, who had been conspicuously silent.
“Can I just say one thing?” Maggie asked.
Jane exhaled noisily, rolling her eyes, then nodded once.
“He cares for you, Jane. He didn’t want to break things off with you. I know that for true.”
“Well…” Jane looked at the table, refusing to let Maggie’s words make her second-guess her choices. Lars and Sara had been inevitable from the start. “He got over me pretty quick either way, so it really doesn’t matter anymore. Now can we please talk about something else? How was your day?”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Maggie, searching her eyes.
Jane shrugged, a little taken aback. For the first time since she arrived, she realized her friend was acting strangely. Preoccupied. Jumpy. “Just wondering if you had a good day.”
Maggie twisted the claddagh ring back and forth on her finger. “Busy. Up to Billings and back for an appointment.”
“Is that a long drive?” asked Jane.
Maggie looked flustered and without answering, she turned to Paul, changing the subject. “How’s, um, how’s Miss Mystic?”
“She’s good.”
Jane smiled at him, swiping the last bit of wetness from her cheeks. “From that grin, I’d say better than good. Did you tell her you’re coming?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She’s getting used to it.”
“Huh.” Her hackles rose at the thought of some Connecticut girl playing around with a man as nice as Paul. “I hope you’re being careful.”
“Careful?”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I haven’t felt like this since…” His voice trailed off.
Maggie tapped the table twice to get their attention. “Now don’t you go all murky too!”
“Nah. No regrets, Maggie. I don’t love her like that anymore.”
“Who?” asked Jane. “Love her who?”
He looked at Jane. “Jenny. Jenny Lindstrom.”