Ten minutes after Rochelle’s car pulled out of the front gates and turned toward downtown and the lone five-room motel, a knock on the sliding door of the van sent Carma’s pulse into overdrive. She took a steadying breath and called out, “Entrez!”
The door rolled back and Gil frowned at it, then her. “You should lock this.”
“I do before I go to sleep.” She clutched the book she’d been trying to read against her palpitating heart. “Between the fence, the lights, and the security cameras, I figured there wouldn’t be anyone wandering around the yard.”
He hooked a hand on the sill above the door, his face too shadowed to read. “I tried the apartment first, then saw a light on in here. Are you hiding?”
“Should I be?” There was too much going on inside of him to sort out, but he wasn’t radiating fury, so that was better than she’d expected.
“If you have to ask…” His gaze traveled around the interior. “This thing is like a time machine.”
“It’s Uncle Tony’s baby.” She cocked her head. “You seem awfully calm.”
“I’ve had time to cool down.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to shed the remaining tension.
“There were a lot of people poking their fingers into your pie today. I don’t imagine that sat too well.”
His mouth twisted. “That’s what Tamela said, too.”
Jealousy flared, singeing a corner of her heart. Gil had spent the evening with another woman? “Tamela?”
“My sponsor.”
Oh. She’d assumed it was a man. Opposite-sex sponsorships weren’t against the rules, but they did have the potential for added complications. “Is that who you were with last night, too?”
“Yes.” Reading the doubt in her voice, he gave a slight shake of his head. “There is not and has never been anything romantic between us. All else aside, that would be doubling up on a bad bet.”
Carma frowned. “Is that how you think of yourself?”
“It’s what I know. Any relationship I’m in is a threesome. You, me, and my addiction. Staying clean takes time and energy away from everyone else in my life. How’s that sound for a happily-ever-after?”
“Like you’re trying to scare me off. Have you forgotten where I come from? I know about drunks and addicts.”
His eyebrows spiked. “Do you? Is Jayden an alcoholic? Your brother? Anybody you’ve lived with, had to rely on, day in and day out?”
“No. But…”
“Then you don’t really know. And it shows.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Because I asked someone you helped to return the favor?”
“Because you didn’t ask me if I needed help in the first place. You assumed you knew best and tried to push me in the direction you thought I should go.”
“You told me you wanted to ride again.” She slapped her book down on the bed. “Then your dad comes up with some fishing trip and you just…quit.”
He sat, using the doorframe as a backrest and tilting his face into the soft yellow light, which somehow made his angles sharper. “Do I seem like someone who lets people take advantage of him?”
“I… It depends. In general, or in the office?”
“Either. And the answer is no. It’s only taking advantage if I’m not willing. I let Delon dump his extra work on me because I want him out there kicking ass and drumming up more business. I’ve let my dad gradually dawdle off into the sunset because he didn’t move fast enough for me. There’s always something in it for me, and if I’d felt used, I would have stopped. Resentment and self-pity are poison. Believe me, they came close to killing me more than once.”
“But you’ve earned some payback,” she insisted. “You could have at least asked your dad if he was willing to help.”
“I intended to. I made all kinds of plans. Hell, I was running with it so hard I could barely breathe. You know. You felt it.”
She nodded reluctantly. There had been something frantic about him that morning.
He combed the shag carpet with his fingers, then studied the tracks they left. “You think falling off the wagon just means getting stoned or hitting the bottle, but addiction can come at me from any direction, and everything about the Diamond Cowboy makes it lick its chops.”
“The what?” She gaped at him. “That was your comeback plan?”
“Of course. Big money, major adrenaline, short prep time. The perfect excuse to drop everything else and throw myself into it, balls to the wall.” His laugh was like rock grinding glass. “The list of shit I could put off or not do at all was getting longer by the minute. If Dad hadn’t tripped me up, I would’ve run us right off the road. I even had a whole spiel worked out for the guy at Heartland Foods about how we’d analyzed our current resources and the availability of new drivers and concluded that we weren’t in a position to provide an acceptable level of service at this time.”
Carma gulped. “You were gonna decline that contract. Without consulting anyone else?”
Dear God. Delon would have dismembered him.
“Yep. And it seemed totally logical. That’s how my particular brand of addiction works its evil magic. It takes a reasonable idea and pushes it farther and faster until it turns into a train wreck.”
“But…” She shook her head, struggling to fit that image into what she’d witnessed. “You’re such a control freak.”
“Sober Gil has no choice.” He gave her another of those bitter smiles. “Steve Jacobs had a horse like me once. As long as he kept it on a really tight rein, they were safe. But if he gave it a tiny bit of slack, it’d stampede through brush and fences and into washouts—just running blind.”
Carma knew those horses. Her dad always said the most dangerous animal was one that didn’t care if it hurt itself. She never would have put Gil in that category, though.
But she only knew sober Gil.
“That’s the risk you’re taking,” he said. “I can’t promise I won’t lose my grip. And I can’t be with someone who tries to take the reins.”
The declaration struck with the quiet thwppt! of an arrow to the heart. “So that counts me out.”
“I can’t blame you for what I didn’t explain. Now that you know…”
Her pride bristled at the implication. “What? I’m on probation? Meddle once more and we’re done? If that’s the case, I’m gonna need a better definition of what’s off-limits. Am I allowed to encourage you in any way, or is that too dangerous?”
“That isn’t what I meant.” He ran a weary hand over his eyes, shadows settling in the hollows of his face. “But yes, we do need clear boundaries. I have a great support system with my sponsor and the group in Dumas, so I’ve never had to lean on the people close to me—and I don’t want to start. This works. I’m not gonna screw with it.”
There was a finality in his voice that left no room for negotiation. But he had talked to her. Once. When Tamela wasn’t available. A weight settled behind her breastbone. “And you expect me to be content with whatever parts of yourself you choose to share, whenever it suits you.”
“I don’t expect anyone to be satisfied with what I have to offer.” He dragged a thumbnail down the front of his jeans. “That’s why I’ve avoided this kind of relationship. But we’re past that point, so I have to hope this is better than nothing, because that’s what I am if I’m not sober.” He paused, then sighed. “I can’t even swear that what I feel for you is real, and not another sneak attack.”
A second arrow skewered her gut. “You think this is a…crush?”
“I don’t know what to believe. It happened so fast, and the more I have of you, the more I want.” He lifted his hand, then let it fall. “I can’t trust any kind of irresistible urge.”
Her spine stiffened, one vertebra at a time. “You’re putting me in the same class as a bottle of rotgut whiskey.”
“More like hundred-dollar tequila. I’m not sure if you’re more dangerous when you’re smoothing me out, or when you’re setting me on fire. But I won’t let myself make any promises until I’m sure. I owe that to both of us.”
“And I’m supposed to hang around until you figure it out.”
He picked at the carpet, eyes downcast. “If you think it’s worth the trouble.”
If you think I’m worth it. That silent plea, etched into the stark lines of his face, was all that kept her from heaving the book at his head. All around him, hands were snatching at those reins he’d been gripping for so long. Meanwhile, Carma was in the process of rearranging her own boundaries, without a map. It was a lousy time for either of them to fall into a new relationship.
But like he’d said, it was too late to turn back now.
That didn’t mean she had to let him dictate all the rules, though, so she said, “I have to think about it.”
“That’s fair.” He stood, surveyed the interior of the van, and took note of her pajamas. “You actually hate the apartment so much you’d rather sleep in the parking lot?”
“I prefer my own bed. And since my new phone is finally ready and I got my new debit card in the mail today, I’m going out after work tomorrow to scout campgrounds.”
His frown made an immediate return. “I don’t like the idea of you staying somewhere alone.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing ever since I left Montana?”
He shook her off. “Give me a day or two. I’ll find something better.”
A place he chose, that met his standards. She was on the verge of telling him what to do with his orders when she realized this wasn’t just Gil being arrogant. At a time when change was threatening every part of his life, he needed to maintain some control. Carma could give him at least that much, considering she had brought the clamoring horde to his door.
“Fine. I’ll wait until the weekend.”
“Thank you.” He stood for a moment, as if he couldn’t figure out how to leave—or didn’t want to. Then he gave the side of the van a gentle slap. “Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before Carma could answer, he slid the door shut with a decisive thunk. A few seconds later he cupped his hands against the bubble window beside her head. “Lock the doors!”
She doubted he could see her through the smoked plexiglass, but she waved a stiff middle finger at him anyway. Then she grabbed the cheap cell phone and called Bing. “I need to vent.”
Bing snorted. “What did Gil do?”
“He told me this might be something serious.”
“Whoa. What?”
“Or I could be just another weeklong binge.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” Carma thumped her head against the carpeted wall of the van. “How did this happen? I came to town to check out the Patterson clinic and maybe get a little action on the side, and now I’m all twisted up in this…this…thing! With a man who just informed me that he’s afraid I’m the female equivalent of someone slipping him a mickey.”
Bing laughed, a surprised Hah!
Carma bared her teeth at the phone. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
“If I recall correctly, you said, ‘I want to know exactly where I stand.’”
“If you make fun of me, I swear to God I will tell Johnny about the time you beat up Sara Dubois for flirting with your boyfriend.”
Bing made a noise that was the equivalent of an eye roll. “That was thirty years ago, and she also told everyone I was screwing around on him with one of the summer guys at the East Glacier Lodge. She needed her ass kicked. But as I was saying…”
“Yeah, yeah. Honesty. No games.” Carma scooted off the bed and crouch-walked to the front of the van to punch down the door locks. Which she would have done even if Gil hadn’t told her to. “And what about the therapy program? I promised to get it up and running.”
“Your job is development. You don’t have to stay and run the place. Besides, Grandma wanted you to get to know Gil better.”
Carma’s eyes went squinty. “And you would know that how?”
“Well…” Bing’s voice held a suspicious hint of amusement. “We may have talked about it once or twice, after she heard about the two of you hooking up at the Stockman’s. I told her all about Gil, and how much I admired what he did for Hank. She thought he sounded like a good man. I agreed.”
Carma had to grab one of the red velvet captain’s chairs for balance. “You never said anything about him to me.”
“I didn’t want to interfere,” Bing said loftily.
Carma blew a ripe raspberry into the phone.
“And I’ve been a little distracted with my own love life,” Bing admitted with a laugh.
“That’s more like it.” Carma let go of the chair and plopped onto her butt. “What now?”
“Do as they say and take it one day at a time. It comes down to figuring out what you need to be healthy and happy and whether he’s willing—or able—to give it to you.”
“Is that all?” Carma said, heavy on the sarcasm.
Bing’s voice softened in sympathy. “And if it doesn’t work out…”
It was going to hurt. A lot. Carma nudged the feather hanging from the rearview mirror. It twirled and swayed like it had all the way from Montana to Texas. Uncle Tony had had that feather blessed by the elders to protect and guide him on his journeys. Was this where it had been leading her, with a little help from Grandma White Elk? She watched it slowly come to a stop, the tip curved away from the open gate that led onto the highway…and toward Gil’s house.
Hell.
“I’m such a glutton for punishment,” she said.
“Aren’t we all? Keep me updated.”
Carma glanced at the dashboard clock she should’ve checked before she dialed. It read five minutes after eleven. “You may want to take that back before this is over.”
* * *
The next morning she was filling her coffee mug when Gil appeared in the door of the break room, looking lean, hard, and lethal if consumed in large doses.
“Yes,” she said, stirring in an extra dollop of cream.
He eyed her warily. “To what?”
“Proceeding…with caution.” She added sugar, stirred again, and sipped. Ahh. Forget orange juice, this was sunshine in a cup. “But it goes both ways. No promises until we’re both sure.”
He frowned. “How will we know if we can’t tell each other?”
She smiled, arching her brows.
“Oh.” His frown morphed into a scowl. “That’s fine for you, but how will I know?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
She toasted him with her coffee, then squeezed past and gave in to the temptation to flounce down the hall in her killer turquoise sundress.