He clenched his fists at his sides and his pace picked up from a bewildered stumble to a walk and then to a run, until his lungs burned, and he was home in half the time it usually took to get there. His eyes teared up as he unlocked his front door, but he blamed it on the run and the chill of the evening. Nils’s upper floor of the house was dark and quiet, and although baring his heart to his older brother wasn’t something Lars had ever done, he would have considered doing so tonight.
She had rejected him and turned to Paul.
And it hurt like crazy, because he’d thought—he’d desperately hoped—that he and Jane would have another chance.
Goddamn it!
Lars’s life has been pretty uncomplicated up to now.
His feelings had never confused him or otherwise disrupted the solid contentment that pervaded his life. He felt love—real, deep, true affection—for his family and close friends, and he was generally well-liked by folks in Gardiner. He was a good son and brother, a hard worker, a loyal friend, and a trusted guide. The most important thing in Lars’s life was his family, and second to that was the earth inside of Yeller, and after that was everything else, which balanced out fine for a complete, uncomplicated life that felt good and full.
Until now.
Meeting Jane had changed things for him in myriad ways.
Mostly because if he walked away from Jane, or otherwise lost her, his life wouldn’t be complicated, nor would it ever again feel full.
Jane was complicated. She was distrustful, skittish and insecure on one hand, and a sassy, witty, smart-ass on the other. She had lost her parents and a man she thought she loved, which had only compounded her flaws, and she lived her life in the shadow of a cousin who was neither gentle nor loving when Jane needed gentleness and love. She was good at her job but didn’t like it, and while she liked photography, she had relegated it to a hobby. He sensed there was a deep well of love in her heart to give, a warmth and playfulness he had seen and felt. But, if she wouldn’t take the risk of opening her heart, it could never be shared.
And yet without his permission or blessing hers was the face the earth had turned to him, to whom he felt bundled and bound, as surely as he did to Yeller, as surely as he was a Lindstrom, and he didn’t know what to do if he couldn’t have her—if she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, belong to him. He longed for the good and full, uncomplicated life he had always known, but after knowing her—the twinkle in her mossy, earthy eyes, the rasp of her deep voice, the unexpected way she made him laugh out loud, how the mere touch of her hand made his blood boil and rush—that satisfying life might be forever elusive without Jane Mays in it.
All of these thoughts floated round and round in his head all night long, invading his dreams, stealing his peace, complicating his heretofore uncomplicated life, and leaving him utterly exhausted in the morning.
And so, after the worst night’s sleep of his life, during which his subconscious and ego ran laps, and his conscious mind woke up swearing off women forever, Lars woke up alone in his bed. He showered and dressed, and with his truck in the shop for another day, he started his walk back into town to get the van and do his pickup at the Best.
Although there was nothing he would like less, though little else he longed for more, he would have to start his day seeing Jane.
***
Friday had finally arrived, and Jane woke up for the last day of the shoot feeling a mix of emotions.
This evening would start her first weekend-vacation in years, which should have made her feel as light as a feather, yet her mind was heavy with thoughts of Lars. It was impossible to discount what Maggie, Nils and Paul had each said last night, in their own way, about Lars. She liked them and felt the good intentions behind their words as they all insisted that Lars had genuine feelings for her…and further, Paul, whom Jane realized she had even grown to trust in the short time she’d known him, had gone so far as to say her heart would be safe with Lars.
Despite her feelings for Lars, which grew deeper and more intense hour by hour, she didn’t know how to reconcile her friends’ gentle and encouraging advice with Margot’s grudging admission about what she’d seen. Jane’s feelings—inconvenient and unwanted though they were—dominated her heart to the point of intense distraction. Her heart demanded she reconcile these accounts today. She would need to muster the courage to talk to him, regardless of Margot’s confession, because of her friends’ insistence on his constancy.
After showering, she pulled all of her curls back into a pert little ponytail and secured the stray wisps with some bobby pins, briefly admiring its cuteness before getting dressed. One thing Jane had learned during her week in Gardiner was that fall came quickly to Montana. September morning temperatures hovered in the low 60s, so she opted for the slim-fit jeans she had picked up at the only clothing shop in Gardiner and the same black camisole and green cardigan sweater she had worn on Monday night.
With Sara handling her own bags for Jackson Hole, Jane didn’t need to be anywhere quite yet. The Lindstroms wouldn’t be by to pick up the crew for about half an hour. Deciding to take a morning walk on her own, she stopped at the lobby coffee kiosk, pouring herself a to-go cup before heading out onto the misty, quiet, early morning sidewalks of Gardiner.
As she walked along, she turned her thoughts to the end of the conversation she had with Paul last night. She hadn’t consciously thought about staying in Gardiner, but after Paul mentioned it, she couldn’t get it out of her head. Stay in Gardiner. She had to admit, the thought was compelling.
Leave New York and Sara behind.
Leave her mediocre relatives and a job she hated.
Stay in Gardiner, which fit Jane like a glove, with people whom she’d come to treasure over the course of the past week; people who she thought could be real, lasting friends to her.
She had substantial savings from working for Sara and would easily be able to set herself up for a couple of years at least, especially if she lived modestly. She could take pictures of the park and send them to magazines and galleries back east to see if she could establish herself as a reputable nature photographer, maybe even finance her own coffee table book of Yellowstone photography.
Just stay. Just stay like Maggie’s Aunt Lily and make Gardiner her home.
But when she thought of Lars, she realized it wasn’t that simple. She couldn’t just stay; things were complicated by their…their…whatever it was or had been, between them. He’d think she was staying for him, chasing after him, after he had rejected her. They’d want to avoid each other, almost impossible in a very small town, meanwhile placing people they both cared about in the middle of their awkwardness.
It was impossible. No matter how fine a fit Jane and Gardiner might be, there was really only one invitation that mattered to her, and despite their previously scalding chemistry, she sure didn’t imagine Lars asking her to stay in her immediate future.
The misty morning, no doubt resulting from the longer, cooler nights that signaled the coming fall, gave her walk a little extra atmosphere as dreamy swirls of cloudy air veiled everything in mystery. The streets were mostly empty, so she couldn’t have missed the tall figure who approached her purposefully, mostly concealed by the swirling fog.
She froze in her tracks, gasping softly, bewildered by his sudden appearance, as if it should be impossible that Lars Lindstrom was suddenly standing before her, actualized from nothing but vapor.