In Honor (15 page)

I took a deep breath and mustered every bit of confidence I could. Then I slid into the seat, shut the door, and looked over at Rusty like this was something I did all the time. “Nah. I think I’ll stick with you, at least for a little while.”
Oh, god. Ridiculous.

He didn’t move. Just sat there looking at me, quite amused, and I knew I was in for some joke at my expense. Instead, he just shook his head, still smiling. “Shit. You.”

“What? You said it wouldn’t bother you.” No response. “It’s still hotter than hell.” Now I was getting defensive. He turned the key, and the Pala sputtered to life. “Why are you acting all weird about it?”

Rusty glanced in the side mirror, then put the car in gear and pulled us back on the highway. “I’m not. You’re . . .” He smiled like he was gonna laugh. I reached for my clothes, feeling every kind of embarrassed I possibly could.

“Oh, c’mon. Leave ’em. You’re fine.” His eyes flicked over in my general direction.

“Well, then,” I said, confidence bolstered. “Try not to stare too hard, all right?” My voice, and what it said, surprised the heck out of me.

Even Rusty seemed surprised. He laughed the kind of laugh you do when you don’t know what to say, then reached for the radio knob. “Duly noted.”

Before any kind of awkward silence could settle over us, the static gave way to one of
my
all-time favorites. I leaned forward and turned the volume up, got the tuning just right so it came in clear. Then I sat back, feeling the hot wind on my bare skin, and right along with Tom Petty belted out the chorus of “Free Fallin’.” And it was the perfect song for what I felt that moment.

Because in a lot of ways, I was.

15

The last of the heavy sun dipped behind red-rock mountains, splashing brilliant pink light over the clouds that streaked the sky, and I wished I could capture that moment right there, remember how perfectly peaceful it felt. We’d chugged along slowly since we put the soda in the radiator, and I’d lost my senses enough to take off my clothes. The giggly nervousness (mine) and sneaky glances (both of us), I thought, had given way to a silence between Rusty and me that was comfortable as the day finally began to cool. The twilight spread out and deepened as we drove, enough for Rusty to flick on the headlights. The beams swung around a wide curve in the road, and on the other side of it he let out a long sigh. “That’s it, right down the hill. Almost there.”

In front of us, nestled down between the silhouettes of towering cliffs, were the first twinkling lights of Sedona. A wave of relief and happiness hit me so strong I nearly started crying. “Oh my god. We really made it.” I sat up and looked out the windshield, wondering where his mom’s house was. The prospect of a home with food and a shower was just about the best thing I could imagine at the moment.

“You think your mom’ll mind if the first thing I do when we get there is take a shower?” I was almost giddy with the thought.

Rusty laughed. “She might wanna say hi first.”

“I know
that
.” I smacked his bare thigh before I thought about it, and he raised an eyebrow, which I chose to ignore. Then the lightness drained from me almost in an instant when I thought about seeing her and having to face the inevitable conversation about Finn. I looked over at Rusty, afraid to ask. “Does she know? About him?”

His jaw tightened when he nodded. “Yeah—” He glanced over at me, then back at the road. “She’s the one who told me.” I opened my mouth to ask where she’d heard, or how, or why she’d been the one to tell him, but I didn’t get a chance to pick out the right question before Rusty slowed the Pala and turned us onto an unmarked dirt road. “House is out here a little ways,” he said. “Might wanna put your clothes on. Bru’ll probably be there.”

“Bru?”

Rusty leaned forward on the wheel. “Her boyfriend. It’s his house.”

“Boyfriend?” There were turning out to be all kinds of things I had no idea about. I looked over at Rusty through the dusky light, trying to add it all up, but he didn’t look like he was going to help me out. “How long have they been together?” I asked.

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Well . . . do you
like
him?”

“He’s all right.”

We bumped over the dirt, kicking up dust that glowed peachy in the headlights. I watched Rusty carefully, thinking he had to have been here more than a few times to find the road we were on. Maybe I’d been wrong this whole time, thinking that he and his mom didn’t talk or that he was still angry and hurt over her leaving.

“What’s he like?” I asked, trying to figure out how he felt about this boyfriend of his mom’s.

“I don’t know. Like a crusty old mountain guy who’s dating my mom.”

There, at least, was a sort-of answer. Which only brought up more questions in my mind. “Is he a good guy?” I asked. “I mean . . . is he good to her?”

He looked over at me quick, then put his eyes back on the road, which was now climbing a steep hillside. “Better’n my dad. If that’s what you mean.”

I hadn’t
really
meant it that way, but the simple truth of his answer and the fact that he said it out loud shocked me quiet. I never knew his parents real well, but I knew about them. Or . . . knew what went around the town rumor mill about them. Nobody was surprised when she up and left. What did surprise people, though, was that she left Rusty behind with his dad’s booze-fueled temper and his tendency to take it out on whoever was closest.

I could remember being little, seeing his parents in the bleachers at elementary school football games. I’d always watch the pairs of moms and dads, wondering what mine would’ve been doing if they’d been there. His parents were the one couple I tried not to watch because his dad was always angry about something, and I felt sorry for his mom. She seemed too delicate and fragile to handle his loud, quick temper. I saw him grab her arm more than once, in a way that made me scared of him and angry at the same time. I could only imagine what it would’ve been like to be Rusty as a little kid. Or a grown one, for that matter.

All at once, I wanted to be gentle with him. “I didn’t mean anything like that,” I said softly. “I just wondered what you thought of him.”

“I know,” Rusty answered. “It’s fine.”

And I knew, from the shift in his tone, he was about to change the subject. He didn’t have to, though, because just then we rounded a curve that ended in a narrow dirt driveway. At the end of it was a house that looked like it had clung to the side of the mountain for years. Once again, I was speechless. But this time, it was because of the view.

Far below, the sparkling lights of Sedona spread out like stars on the valley floor, distant and quiet. And above us, in the moonless purple sky, the real stars felt closer than they’d ever been, like I could reach right up, pluck one from the night, and tuck it in my pocket. It was the kind of sky Finn would’ve loved. Almost in answer to my thought, a delicate trail of white light streaked low over the horizon.

“You see that?” I asked Rusty.

He nodded. “Make a wish.”

Had he said it to me a few hours earlier, I might’ve wished myself back home or wished that the envelope that contained Finn’s letter hadn’t been his last. But right then, I felt grateful we’d made it this far and that Rusty was with me. So I wished us all the way to Kyra Kelley.

Neither of us spoke. We just sat there a moment, and relief and exhaustion settled over me. A cool, fragile breeze drifted in the windows, carrying with it the rich, dry smells of the desert. The night outside lay so utterly peaceful, I wanted to sink into it and float off with the scent of the pines. I glanced over at Rusty, who seemed to feel the same way, judging by the way he leaned back against the seat, taking in the night sky.

He felt me looking and gave a half smile. “You ready?” When I nodded, he put the car back in gear and we rolled quietly down the driveway. Rusty pulled in next to a mudsplattered jeep and cut the engine. The Pala seemed to shudder with relief as soon as he did, and everything stood still and quiet until the front door of the house opened up, spilling out orange light and the small, unmistakable frame of Celia.

She moved fluidly down the stairs, jewelry jingling softly as she did, and made her way right to my open window. I sat up, too tired to care that I hadn’t seen her in years and I was showing up in my underwear with her son. When she reached the passenger door and bent down to the window, I knew it didn’t matter.

She smiled, gentle and warm, took my face in her hands, and said softly, “We’ve been expecting you.”

16

I closed my eyes and let the warm water stream down my face, hoping it would carry any traces of tears away with it. The look on Celia’s face, and her hands on my cheeks, and what she’d said, had left me so near undone I actually did ask right away if I could take a shower. And she’d been happy to oblige, because that’s what you do with people who are so upset they’ve lost their manners. I’d barely gotten the water on before the first tears, all full of fatigue and relief, spilled over onto my cheeks. I watched them swirl down the drain, wondering how in the world Celia had been expecting me when I had absolutely no business being where I was at the moment. I probably didn’t have enough money to fix the car and make it home, let alone get to California and Kyra Kelley in time. Lilah had to be wondering why I hadn’t returned her calls, and Gina probably had all of Texas searching for me, yet here I was.

What felt the worst, though, was that being this far away and this out of touch was exactly what I wanted right now—needed, even, because back home Finn was gone for good. Buried in the town cemetery. But in his car, with Rusty next to me and memories of him shared between us, it was like he wasn’t so far away after all.

I breathed in the steam, wishing I could stay in the shower forever and not have to deal with any of it. I could only imagine the conversation happening about me between Rusty and Celia out in the living room. But I actually did remember my manners, and I couldn’t let go of my curiosity about how she’d known we were coming, so I finished up and shut the water off, then took a few deep breaths as I put my fresh clothes on. At least I’d be fully dressed to give her a proper greeting and meet Bru.

Which I did, as soon as I swung open the bathroom door. I ran right smack into him in the middle of the hallway, almost knocking both of us down.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see . . . I . . .”

“That’s all right, darlin’.” He laughed. “You didn’t hurt me none.”

Rusty hadn’t been kidding about the crusty mountain man thing. Bru stood not much taller than me, his faded jeans and western shirt almost completely covered in red-brown dust. He tipped his head and smiled warmly, past his scruffy white beard, all the way up to a pair of sparkly blue eyes. “You must be Honor.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Bru. Pleased to meet you.” A scraggly gray ponytail slipped over his shoulder as he leaned forward. “My condolences about your brother.”

“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand and hoping he’d leave it at that. “And . . . thank you for having us here. Sorry to just show up like this, but—”

He waved a dismissive hand. “We’re happy to have you two,” he said with a wink. “You all done in there? Cece doesn’t like me to show up to the table all dusty.”

I nodded, still fumbling around for something more to say. “Yeah. I’m finished. Thank you.” I stepped aside and motioned that the bathroom was all his.

“All right then. Kitchen’s down the hall and through the living room. Just follow the smell of whatever crazy thing she’s cookin’ in there.” He winked again, then stepped past me. “Lord knows what it is this time.”

“What
is
that?” Rusty said as I stepped down into the kitchen. Now dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he leaned over the pan that sizzled on the stove, face scrunched up at the smell of it.

Celia reached up to his shoulders, which made her look even tinier, and steered him toward one of the kitchen chairs. “
That
is our dinner—organic quinoa with sprouted nuts and leafy kale. You just sit down and don’t bother yourself about it now.” Rusty did as she said, with a look that said he probably wouldn’t bother with it at all.