Near & Far (23 page)

“Because at least she gets to go for a ride in or on something of yours,” Garth replied instantly, right before shoving me. A much harder shove than I’d just given him.

Before I knew it, I was crashing into the dirt. Thankfully, I’d fallen on my good arm. “Shit, Garth”—I sat up and dusted myself off—“I take back that whole ‘I want you on my side’ thing.” Sunny had spooked a bit when I’d flown off but hadn’t gone far.

“Oh, my goodness! Jesse, are you okay?” Jolene flew out of Old Bessie, sprinting my way like I’d just lost a limb.

“Oh, no, Jesse. Are you okay?” Garth matched Jolene’s voice . . . or at least tried to. “What can I do to help you? Massage your sore, bruised muscles? Ride your stallion stick until you’re red in the face? Motorboat my huge titties in your face until your pain goes away? What can I do to be of service?”

“Do me a favor and shut the hell up, Black?” I said, standing.

“Shutting up? Not my strong suit.”

“Ha. Name one strong suit you have other than cussing, drinking, and getting women into your bed.”

Garth’s smile stretched wide. “Shoving your ass off your horse.”

I moved lightning fast, but Garth had been expecting it and reined Rebel to the side. He wasn’t fast enough. I caught his leg, gave it a hard tug, and Garth Black was eating some dirt for dinner, too.

“I hate you, Walker.” Garth spit dirt from his mouth, rolling onto his back.

“I love you too, buddy.”

“Scratch that. I
fucking
hate you.”

“Aww, sweetie. You’re so thoughtful.” Patting his cheek, I jumped out of the way as his leg swung at me. “Be a good boy and stay put while I go get dinner.”

“And you be a bad boy and get an extra blow for me from Miss Hooter-ific bouncing your way. Damn, I love a girl who believes the less support when it comes to her bra, the better.”

I went to intercept Jolene since she must have been bringing dinner, although she was still jogging my way with a worried look. I didn’t feel like dealing with her never-ending conversations, her urge to touch me at any and every whim, or her asking me every five seconds about how Rowen and I were doing. Jolene was a nice girl and all, but she didn’t exactly get the concept of personal space, physically or emotionally. I didn’t want to talk about my girlfriend with some acquaintance, and I didn’t want to be hugged every time I said something funny. Not to mention, Jolene had walked in on me changing so many times, I was pretty sure she knew what my butt looked like better than I did.

Jolene stopped jogging when she was a few yards in front of me. “Are you okay? That was a nasty spill!”

“Yeah, I’m fine. That was nothing.” I’d fallen off a horse as many times as I’d mowed the lawn. It came with the territory.

“Is there anything I can do? I’ve got a first aid kit with me . . . and I’ve been told I can work some serious magic with these fingers.” Jolene stepped behind me, dropped her hands on my shoulders, and rolled my muscles between her fingers. Not only was it a strange thing to suggest after someone had just fallen off a horse—a massage, really?—but it made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to another woman’s touch, and having her hands on me felt strange.

“I’ll go grab dinner.” I stepped away from Jolene’s hands and headed for Old Bessie.

“I’ll help.” Jolene jogged beside me. “How’s Rowen doing? I haven’t seen her in a while. You two okay?”

I worked my tongue into my cheek so I wouldn’t reply immediately. I tried to speak respectfully to everyone, with maybe Garth as the exception. That was just the way I’d been brought up, but Jolene was making it very hard. She’d asked me not even two days ago how Rowen and I were doing. My answer was the same. “She’s doing great.
We’re
doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Oh. Well that’s good.” Her voice had lost all of its bubbliness. “Are you going to marry her?”

“Jolene,” I warned, stopping in place. I didn’t want to have that conversation with her or anyone.

“Well? Are you?” She was dead serious.

“Why do you want to know? What difference does it make to you?”

“Because I want to know,” she said with a shrug. “And yes, it does make a difference.”

I generally found myself confused somewhere along the way when I talked with Jolene, but it had barely taken thirty seconds to get me stumped during that conversation. “Why? What possible difference could it make to you if I do or do not want to marry Rowen?”

Jolene’s face fell. “Are you serious? You really don’t know?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled. “No, I really don’t know. Why in the world would I?”
Women are a complicated species.
Dad had drilled that into me—and then I’d learned it on my own—but damn if that woman and that conversation didn’t bring that complicated attribute to new levels.

Jolene studied me for a few more seconds, searching me for something. Finally, she dropped her gaze, crossed her arms, and marched over to the driver’s side door. “Your dinner’s in the bed. You can get it yourself.”

And I’d pissed her off. I was really winning at life these days.

Only because it was my truck did I kick the tire when I came around the bed. I grabbed the couple of paper bags of food but would have to come back from the cooler since it didn’t look like Jolene was planning on leaving the cab. I’d definitely pissed her off . . . although I didn’t know what I’d said or done exactly to do so.

When I made it to the tree where Garth was camped out enjoying some shade, I dropped the bags on his lap. “Thanks for the help.”

Garth shoved the bags aside and waved his finger at me. “You’ve got all the help any man could possibly need stewing over there in your truck.”

I double checked to make sure Garth and I were seeing the same thing. Yep, Jolene was still pissed. “In case you’re losing your vision, that’s not a look of helpfulness on Jolene’s face. She is most definitely not in a helping mood right now.” I rubbed the back of my neck, wondering if I should go apologize. “I said something to upset her . . . but I don’t know what.”

“Shit, Jess. You weren’t over there for longer than two minutes. What were you chatting about that could have hurt poor Jolene’s feeling so?” Garth kicked out his legs, crossed his ankles, and laid down like he was ready for a nap.

“I don’t know. All we did was talk about dinner, Rowen, and if I wanted to marry her one day.”

“Marry who?”

I gave him a look. He knew who I was talking about and was just messing with me.

“Marry. Who?” Garth repeated.

“Marry you, shithead,” I said, kicking the heel of his boot. “Rowen. Marry
Rowen
.” I couldn’t believe I had to clarify that.

“Oh, well that’s why.”

“That’s why
what
?”

Garth rolled his eyes before closing them. “That’s why Miss Peace Corps Montana is pissed. You mentioned marriage and Rowen in the same sentence, and I’m guessing there was no addition of polygamy and Jolene.”

“No. No mention of Jolene or polygamy.”

“Hmm, you know, it’s too bad it’s not legal in this state because I might actually turn into the marrying type if I could have a dozen wives.”

“You can’t even take care of yourself. How do you think you’d be able to take care of twelve wives?”

Garth shrugged. “I don’t know. But I sure wouldn’t mind trying.”

“Nice digression, there, but could we get back on point, please? What would make Jolene so upset about me mentioning I want to marry Rowen one day?” I knew she wasn’t the biggest fan of Rowen, and Rowen of her. Some personalities just didn’t click. Rowen’s and Jolene’s definitely didn’t
click
.

“Questions like that one really make me question your intelligence, Walker.” Garth’s eyes opened just long enough to say the next part. “Jolene likes you. That’s why she’s got her panties in a bunch because you mentioned Rowen and the M word.”

“I know she likes me. I’m a likable guy.”

“Oh my god, shit-for-brains. Jolene doesn’t just like you because you’re a ‘likable guy’”—seeing Garth make air quotes almost made me laugh—“she likes you because she wants you to hump her this way, that way, and another way you didn’t even dream was possible. Oh, and after that, she wants you to put a ring on her finger and let her play house.”

I shook my head. How else could a person respond to that? “Jolene doesn’t like me like that.”

“Uh . . . yes, she does.”

I crossed my arms. “No, she doesn’t.”

Garth studied me for a few seconds, then sat up. “You really are clueless when it comes to the female species, Jess. You know that?”

“I suppose entrusting my girlfriend to my best friend a couple of years ago should have clued me into that.” I gave him an accusatory look.

Garth raised his middle finger at me. “That should have been a big clue, and you not picking up on Jolene’s borderline
Fatal Attraction
toward you is another.”

I settled my hands on my hips and exhaled. “You really think Jolene likes me . . . in
that
way.” I didn’t want to bring up the hump, hump, dream hump, ring analogy again.

“Jess, I’m ninety-nine percent she already has your wedding date set and your kids’ names picked out.”

As much as I wanted to believe Garth was wrong, he usually wasn’t about that type of things. Plus, even though she hadn’t outright said it, Rowen didn’t like Jolene and obviously had something against her. Could her knowing Jolene had a thing for me be the reason why? The longer I thought about it, the more it made sense. The longer I thought about it, the more I wondered how I’d been so oblivious. I’d been preoccupied lately, but really, I probably hadn’t noticed because I wasn’t concerned about what Jolene said or did. I didn’t notice because I wasn’t in a noticing frame of mind with her. I
noticed
Rowen, every single thing she did, and every undertone and hidden meaning in what she said. My mind was trained to notice her, not Jolene, and perhaps that was why I’d missed it.

“You’re positive?”

Garth chuckled darkly. “The only thing I’ve been more positive about is that I’m better looking than you.”

“Says no female in existence.” Narrowly missing his kick, I headed back toward Old Bessie and an even more complicated situation.

“Where you going, ugly?”

“Clearing something up.”

“When you’re done with that, let her know I’m available if she wants to work out any angst or frustration,” Garth said.

Jolene was still gripping the steering wheel and glaring out the windshield when I approached. It didn’t look like she was going to acknowledge me, and that was okay. She didn’t need to; she just needed to hear me.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, Jolene. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings too, if I did that.”

“You did,” she replied slowly.

“I’m sorry for that. But I thought you knew. I thought it was obvious.” I leaned inside the passenger window. My truck was, as I guessed, overpowered by that fruity, sweet perfume.

“What did you think was obvious?” She still wouldn’t look at me.

“That I want to spend the rest of my life with Rowen.” It was sure obvious to everyone else. I don’t know why it hadn’t been to Jolene.

“You’ve made that pretty damn obvious,” Jolene huffed, giving me a sideways glare. “But you know, what if Rowen doesn’t feel the same way? What if one day she wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with you?”

I didn’t want to think about that at all, but I had the answer. “Then I’ll die a single man.”

Jolene laughed a few strained notes.

“It’s her or no one for me, Jolene. I’ve known that for a while now. I can’t control Rowen’s future, but I can control mine. If she decides she doesn’t want me to be a part of hers one day, I’m going to wind up a lonely man.” I sighed, wishing the pain in my chest would go away. “It’s a better option than pretending with someone else.”

Jolene shook her head. “You’d really rather be alone than pretend with someone else?”

“Yes.” It was the obvious choice for me.

She turned the ignition and Old Bessie fired to life. I snagged the cooler out of the bed before she tore off. “You and I really are two totally different people, Jesse. Enjoy your life.” She finally looked over at me. Her eyes were shiny, which made me feel even worse than I already did. “I don’t want you to live alone, but something tells me you’re going to with the woman you’ve picked. A girl like that doesn’t want to be tied down to anything or anyone. A girl like that doesn’t know how to give real love because she’s never been able to accept it.”

My body went rigid. “A girl like Rowen knows something about real love that a girl like you could never understand, Jolene. And that’s all I’m going to mention about Rowen around you again. I think it’s best you leave now. We’ve both said more than enough, I think.”

My words hadn’t been kind ones, I knew that, but neither had hers. I normally didn’t adhere to the repay fire with fire motto, but Jolene saying that Rowen didn’t know how to give or receive real love had angered me in a way that felt unbridled. Even though Rowen was hundreds of miles away and Jolene’s words would never make their way back to her, I still felt an overwhelming need to protect her.

“It looks like you and I finally agree on something, Jesse,” Jolene replied, before punching the gas. Old Bessie bounced through the field so furiously, I was certain the fender was going to pop off again, but it never did. Or at least not that I saw.

When I made my way back to Garth, he’d already dove into dinner. “So? How did it go?” He wasn’t even trying to keep his smile contained.

I dropped down beside him. “Shut up.”

BY THE TIME Garth and I’d been relieved and we’d made it back to Willow Springs, it was past ten. Rowen and I usually talked around nine her time since that was her break time if she was working and it was a little before I went to bed. Hey, don’t judge; when a person gets up at four in the morning, they can’t stay up until two . . . at least not
every night.

I couldn’t remember if Rowen was working that night, though. That worried me. I always remembered what shifts she worked. Not because I needed to know where she was every minute of every day, but because I liked to know what she was doing hundreds of miles away. When I was out checking the fence, or hauling feed, or lately, up to my elbows in cow placenta, I liked to imagine for a few minutes what she was doing. Was she in class? Painting a picture, half of her face scrunched up as she decided what it was missing? Out with her friends, taking advantage of all Seattle had to offer? Or was she selling crazy doughnuts, turning down the music every time she passed the stereo system?