In Honor (19 page)

Rusty stepped over to the open hood of the Pala and surveyed the inside. “Good news is that the radiator’s fine. It’s a connector hose that has a leak, and that’s a cheaper fix.”

“Okay,” I said cautiously. “What’s the bad news, then?”

“Bad news is that shops don’t stock parts for fifty-year-old cars.”

No, no, no
. This couldn’t happen, not now. Panic leaped into my throat. “The concert’s the day after tomorrow. We have to get there. Can’t we rush-order one or something?”

“Did that already,” he said, leaning on the car. “There’s a guy in Fresno that Finn and I got a bunch of parts from when we were first fixin’ her up. I gave him a call, and he said he’d send a hose that should fit, but it’ll be a day before it gets here.”

“A day, as in
tomorrow
? And then you can fix it and we can go?” I started running through back-up plans in my mind before Rusty could answer. Maybe I could rent a car for the rest of the way.

“How much is it gonna cost?” I asked him. I hadn’t figured on having to fix the car. Actually, I hadn’t really
figured
anything for this trip. I’d had Finn’s ATM card, which I sometimes used if Gina was running low or if there was something special I wanted. But I had no idea how much money was in the account, and now seemed like a good time to start worrying about it.

“I got it,” Rusty answered.

“No, this is my mess. And now my car. You don’t have to pay for that. I just need to know how much it’s going to cost.”

Rusty sighed, exasperated. “I said I got it, okay?” He turned and shut the hood gently, giving it a pat. “It’s been a while since I bought Pala anything nice. She’s been neglected lately.”

I almost rolled my eyes but stopped short. I’d take this kind of chivalry, even if it was meant for the car. “Well, thanks. That’s . . . that’s nice of you.” I looked at the ground and outlined a circle in the red dust with the toe of my boot, not sure what to say after that.

Rusty pushed off the car and turned on his heels to face me. “Don’t thank me yet. I don’t know how far she’ll make it even after we get it fixed. Lots of times, one problem like this leads to a whole bunch of other ones real quick. Just makin’ it there may be shaky, let alone back home.”

I thought of the car breaking down and us ending up here, and meeting Ashley, and my ticket to meet Kyra Kelley tucked safely in my pocket, and I hoped with everything in me that we’d make it to her, because now I knew we were supposed to.

“I bet it’ll be okay,” I said. “We’ll just have to go easy.”

Rusty didn’t seem convinced. “We’ll see.” He bent down and grabbed his half-full beer, then walked it over to the trash can in the carport. “We got at least a day to kill anyway,” he said, coming back. “We can drive my mom’s truck until then if there’s someplace you wanna go.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know. There’s plenty of places. It’s better than sittin’ around here all day while Bru takes a nap and my mom goes on about how psychic she is.”

I thought about it. “How ’bout NAU? You can show me the stadium where you play.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t feel like going up there today.”

There was something in his voice, but I didn’t push it. “All right. What about somewhere you
do
wanna go? I don’t know what’s around. You’re the one who’s been going to school up here. Surprise me.” I hoped he’d take it as a peace offering after last night.

Rusty mulled it over a minute and I waited, feeling the sun sink into me.

“I got a couple places,” he said finally. “Grab your bathing suit. And something to throw on after.”

21

Turned out driving around in Celia’s truck wasn’t all that different from driving around in the Pala. It had to be just as old, with its rounded red fenders and cab and dusty smell. And the lack of AC. We drove with the windows down, the radio up, and one arm each resting on the doors. Hot wind rushed through the cab, blowing my hair loose and wild, and it felt like freedom heading down the highway like that. Out my window, great peaks of rock, all sundrenched and windswept, rose in odd formations against an impossibly blue sky. On Rusty’s side, the rocks gave way to wide open country that ended at the horizon, where the sky met the red-orange earth like a giant dome pinned tight to the edges.

We sat across from each other on the bench seat, easy and relaxed in the way that reminded me of the long days of summer when you have nothing but time on your hands. I decided to try and keep it that way, because I wanted to hold on to the hopeful feeling I’d had at the vortex. It seemed like he had decided to do the same, because he didn’t mention anything about the previous night either, and we drove on in Celia’s old Chevy truck, with its radio that only picked up one country station, which was just fine with me.

“So, where’re we going?” I yelled over the wind and twangy guitar.

“Thought you wanted me to surprise you,” Rusty answered, just as loud.

I turned the radio down. “And when you tell me, I’ll be surprised.”

He didn’t answer. Just kept his eyes on the road and chewed his gum slowly, long enough to make me wonder if he’d heard me. “Swimmin’,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I got that part.” I snapped my bathing suit strap. “Just wondering where, is all.”

“Here,” Rusty said, slowing the truck. He turned us off the highway onto a narrow road marked
CRESCENT MOON RANCH.
We drove through a little kiosk with nobody in it to take any money, and continued down the road to a parking lot, where a few dusty cars were scattered. We parked off on our own and stepped out into the waves of heat rising off the asphalt. Rusty walked around to the back of the truck, but I stood a minute, taking in the view. Across a wide, grassy field, trees crowded together thick and green, in a meandering line I knew meant there was a creek. Maybe like the one we’d played in on summer days as kids. Beyond that was another mountain of rock so red it didn’t look like it could be real. I walked back to where Rusty was leaned into the truck bed, reaching for something. “How’d you know about this place? It’s so pretty.”

He grabbed a little cooler and a couple of towels. “A chick from school brought me down here once.” He smiled slow and to himself, and I knew there must be a story behind that one, but I didn’t need to hear it, so I didn’t bother asking what her name was.

I motioned at the cooler. “Any food in there, or is it just full of beer?”

“Lunch,” he answered, tucking the towels under one arm. Then he shook his head. “My mom sent it. Which means it probably ain’t edible.”

I laughed. “That was nice of her, anyhow.”

“Yep. You ready?” He stood there waiting for me to answer, looking almost sweet, if I didn’t know him so well. It set off a little ripple in my stomach that ended in a smile I tried to hide by looking away.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. “I need to cool off.”

The narrow dirt trail led us right down into the shade of the trees, where it was damp and fresh smelling, and cooler right away. I followed behind Rusty and every few seconds caught a glimpse of water sparkling out in the open, beneath the sun. Blackberry bushes spread out tangly and wild along our path, throwing splashes of deep purple into the green all around. And a little stream, deep with cool water, snaked its way alongside the trail, gurgling over rocks as it went.

“Almost there,” Rusty said over his shoulder. “Hopefully we’ll have it to ourselves.”

The stream widened as we walked a few more quiet steps, and Rusty stopped at a bridge of rocks someone had built across it. He hopped on the middle one, then to the other side, and waited for me to do the same before continuing down the path that I could see led down to a wide, lazy part of the main creek. Once I caught up to him, we took the last few steps together until we were standing at the edge of the perfect swimming hole.

The borders of the creek were shaded by hanging branches of trees, but in the middle, the sun shone right down into deep, blue-green water. An image of him and his ‘chick from school’ tangled together, laughing in the water, flashed in my mind for a second and I shook it away quick. Still. I couldn’t blame her, whoever she’d been. If he were a guy I liked and I was as brave as I wished I was, that’s what I might bring him here to do. . . . I pushed that thought from my head just as fast. What was wrong with me?

Rusty turned to me. “You good with hanging out here awhile?”

“You’re kidding, right? I could stay here for days.”

I looked across the creek to where the rocks rose a good fifteen feet above the water, and my eyes found the best part of the whole place. Strung from the branch of a leaning tree, long enough to take you sailing right out into the deepest part of the water, was a rope swing. I wondered for a second if his choice of spot had anything to do with what I’d said in the car about his and Finn’s old rope swing. Like maybe this was a small, sweet gesture on his part. Either way, it was the perfect place to waste a day away.

Rusty motioned up at them and the swing. “You feelin’ brave today, H?”

“You mean the swing? It’s not
that
high.” I gave it another look. “People go off it, don’t they?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Just looks a helluva lot higher from the top, is all.” He threw me one of those smiles of his that I knew was actually a challenge.

I smiled it right back at him. “Let’s go.”

“You sure? It’s pretty damn high. . . .”

“I think I can handle it. I’m all grown up now, remember?”
Oh my god, I did not just say that.

I walked over to a little area of smooth red rock that sloped gently down into the creek, kicked off my sandals, and shook my hair out behind me. Then, just like I’d done the day before, only a little slower and a lot more to the point, I slid my shorts down my legs and pulled my tank top over my head. At least I was in an actual bikini this time. A cute little black one with pink trim that I was kinda proud to show off.

Rusty shook his head, his smile turning into a laugh.

“What?”
I asked, immediately on alert. Was I untied? Showing something I shouldn’t be?
What?

“Nothin’,” he said, crossing his arms. Then he shook his head again. “I just keep forgetting.”

“Forgetting
what
?” I asked. My attempt at sassiness was crumbling into self-consciousness by the second, but I did my best to hang on to it. Or come up with something else to say that didn’t sound like such a lame come-on.

His eyes ran over me quick then leaped out to the water. “That you’re all grown up,” he said. “Guess I just keep for-getting.”

I didn’t know whether to be happy I’d reminded him or mad he kept forgetting, but we’d be coming up on an awfully awkward moment if I just stood there any longer. I motioned at the water. “You getting in, or am I going alone?”

Rusty raised an eyebrow, then kicked his sandals off and pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing the same broad shoulders that had so impressed me the day before. I hadn’t forgotten about those and how grown up
he
seemed. “After you,” he said like a gentleman, sweeping a tan arm out toward the water.

I held his eyes for just a second. Long enough, I hoped, to say something. No matter that I didn’t know what. Then I took a two-step running start off the edge of the creek and dove right into the middle of it, through the sun-warmed surface, and down into the cool quiet of its deepest part, where water flowed silently over rock like it probably had for years and years.

I heard Rusty splash into the water next to me, felt the bubbles rush by and then the brush of his skin across my legs, just quick enough to send sparks right up them. I came up first, my breath stolen a bit by the coolness of the water or the warmth of his skin, or both. Rusty popped up right next to me, close, and we treaded water for a few seconds without saying anything.

“So,” he asked finally. “You wanna try it out?”

I blinked water out of my eyes. “Yeah. Sure.” It sounded way more sure than I actually was. “It does look a little taller from down here, though. How high
is
it?”

“I don’t know,” Rusty said, swimming by me. “Maybe twenty feet . . . twenty-five. You’ll be fine. C’mon.” In about four strokes, he was on the other side of the creek, pulling himself up the steep side of the rock. I hesitated a second before following him, not entirely sure this was something I wanted to do but feeling like I might’ve gotten myself in too far to back out now. When I got to the edge, Rusty reached a hand down and pulled me up to my feet all in one motion, like it was nothing.

“We go up right here.” He pointed at another rope strung down the side of the rock. It was knotted every couple of feet so that you could hold on to it while you climbed up the faint footholds worn into the side. Rusty led the way up, grabbing each knot and using it to pull himself up. I did the same, but with a growing feeling of dread every few feet. When I finally pulled myself up that last step, to the top of the rock, a cloud of butterflies took flight in my stomach, swirling around each other in a wild swarm.