The longer we walk, the deeper in the wildflowers we go, but the taller she stands. It’s like the mountain air has lifted her some, and perhaps the growing distance from her father helps.
My boss is in bad shape. I’ve watched the cancer eat away at him for months. I can’t imagine how it is for his daughter to see him this way despite their distant relationship.
Once we reach the edge of the lake, Eloise takes a deep breath. The movement lifts her chest. She stares out toward the mountains, and a small smile lifts the corner of her mouth. She pushes her wild hair back, exposing her neck. My eyes travel down her dress and the way it clings to her every curve.
I can’t take my eyes off her. I want to re-learn every curve of her body, every inch of skin, to tangle my fingers in her hair and steal her lips.
Why did I let her go? Right. I’ll always be here in Montana, and she was leaving for California. Her mother packed up all their stuff and whisked her away. Eloise came to me the night before. Said she loved me, and I should follow her. I wasn’t in any position to do that, so I told her I didn’t love her and that she needed to go with her mom. She needed to be free to make something of herself without the burdens I have here weighing her down. They’re fucking heavy-ass burdens I wouldn’t share with anyone, especially Eloise. So, I told her I didn’t feel the same.
It took me five years to bury away the memories that we shared that summer. And now that she’s back to say goodbye to her father, it reminds me of everything I told myself to let go all those years ago.
“Thanks for this, I’m doing better now,” she says and draws my attention away from distant memories of her and her body.
“Yeah.” I shove my hands into my jean pockets and glance across the lake. The crystal blue is bright as it reflects the setting sun. “He doesn’t look so good in there. I’m sure it’s upsetting.”
“I thought about how we should reconcile after all these years.” Her head turns my way. “It wasn’t like this. He looks so different.”
“It’s gotten worse in the last few months. He gets out of bed some. Not much. That cancer’s aggressive.” Her hand goes to her mouth, and she shakes her head.
That was blunt, but I see no reason in sugar coating it either. She’s come here to mend a bridge that’s about to crumble away. He doesn’t have long. It’ll crush her, but it’s a fact. She needs to be ready and know that her time with him is limited. They need to put the past behind them.
She’s crying again, the tears rolling down her cheeks as my body moves toward her before I even know it’s happening. I wrap my arms around her. My head lowers, and the scent of her shampoo hits me. I catch a hint of cherries, too. She always wore the same cherry lip balm when we were younger. I can still taste it on my lips from late nights in the back of my truck.
I’m supposed to be comforting, not recalling the past, but she was hard to forget and impossible to ignore.
Her hands clench my t-shirt, and her head rests on my chest. I’ve been sweating all day doing work around the ranch. My clothes are dirty. The dress she’s wearing is white, dotted with little flowers, and is now covered in my dirt.
The apology is quick as I back away. “Sorry about that, I’ve been workin’ all day.” I remove my hat, run my hand through my hair, and put my hat back on.
“It’s okay,” she swears, then runs her hand through her hair and slides it down until it pauses on her neck.
A neck I would slide my lips along while I whispered promises to her. She always tasted so good; I wonder if it would be the same even now. Will she still make those sounds of appreciation if I pressed my lips to that spot on her neck? No, because she’s not mine anymore. I let her go. I still don’t deserve her.
“You still work for my dad, huh?” Eloise clears her throat and looks back toward the ranch when she asks. The ranch is bright as it stretches out behind us, but we are far enough away to ensure privacy.
I nod. “Always have. There’s not much he can do anymore.”
“So, you’re picking up all the extra work yourself,” Eloise says.
I always pick up the extra work. When my parents left, and my sister and I had to fend for ourselves, it was me who picked up their slack. It was why, even though I was almost eighteen when Eloise left, I didn’t follow. I couldn’t let Betsy fend for herself. She was only ten.
I need a change of subject. I dig my hands into my pockets and look down as I toy with a rock with the toe of my boot. “How’s California treatin’ you?” I ask.
She smiles my way, “It’s good. I work in entertainment public relations.” I jerk my head up to look at her and realize by the expression on her face, I must have shot her a strange look. I’m sure my expression has given away how I feel about her not following her dreams. She hesitates before she continues. “It’s a job that has me keeping celebrities from making fools of themselves, or if they do, I clean it up after. I really enjoy it.”
“Yes, I know what it is you do, but I thought you’d be takin’ photos like you always wanted.” She’s supposed to be following her dreams. She promised me.
Eloise looks down at the ground, and her shoulders slump a little. “I haven’t in a long time.”
I want to say more, but Mallory cuts me off. “Dinner is ready. Are you joining us, Maverick?” She has to yell for us to hear, and I figure she must have been tracking our movements.
I glance toward Eloise and see the expectation there. What I convince myself is an expectation, anyway. Mallory will cook a meal that beats what’s waiting at home for me.
“Sure,” I yell back and follow Eloise toward the main house.
This ranch has been my escape for years—work being the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes. Also, I like to keep Mallory company. She’s sad and lonely, so I like to check in on her and make sure she’s okay. Watching your husband wither away can do that to a person. Cooking dinner for me is the few times I see her smile anymore.
“Did you two know each other well back when Eloise was living here?” Mallory asks once we settle at the table.
Eloise seems at a loss for words, so I glance away from the empty spot at the table where her father should be and respond. “Yeah, we were friends.”
Eloise’s eyes are on me, and her indignation is burning into the side of my face. For me to place us as just friends hurt her again, but it’s helping me put some distance between us. Shit, I’m surprised she doesn’t hate me.
Eloise is here to say goodbye to her dad, not for us to recall all those late nights lost in each other’s arms. And damn sure not here to pick back up if her glare is any sign. So yeah, we were friends.
“That’s nice,” Mallory says. “So, Eloise, I would love to hear about your life. Do you have a boyfriend? How’s life been treating you in California?”
Mallory sends Eloise a soft, pleading smile. I’d love to hear the answer to those questions. I turn a bit in my chair so I’m facing Eloise.
“It’s hectic, to be honest,” she admits. “I’m always on the move, but I enjoy it. As for a boyfriend, no.” Her moss-colored eyes meet mine before they shift back to Mallory. I release a breath. I was pretty sure she hadn’t been dating, but now it’s certain. My jealousy is uncalled for.