Chapter Seventy-Eight

If this were a novel instead of real life, I’d end it like this: I’d be hiking along on the mountaintop and I’d see Scout’s herd, with Scout in the center of it all. I’d call for Jake who would be unpacking our gear. From within the warmth and safety of his arms, I’d watch her frolic in the snow with her family.

In the city, they’d discover a cure for Lou Gehrig’s disease, and by next Christmas, Dad would be walking again, telling jokes with his real voice, wearing jeans and eating steak. He and Anna would ride off into the sunset, the back of their covered wagon reading JUST MARRIED. Jake would squeeze my hand, and we’d exchange a look, knowing we’re next.

Ty wouldn’t have died. And he wouldn’t have raped me or raped that girl in Brooklyn. Wouldn’t have stalked me or blamed me for his screwed up life. Maybe his mom wouldn’t have left his family at all. Maybe Phil would never have met my mom and maybe my dad wouldn’t have been an alcoholic and Mom wouldn’t have left him. Maybe Jake’s dad would have lived and his mom never left him and he’d never have needed Dad.

If all of these things fell into place as fate, I never would’ve met Ty.

But this isn’t fiction.

And Dad died the night before Christmas.

I was by his bedside, holding his hand as he took his last, shallow breath, and so was Anna. By that time, he’d withered away into no more than a wax doll of himself, just skin and bones, light as feathers. I kissed his cool skin and, later, we had him cremated.

Just when we were about to leave on our mounts and head up the mountain to scatter his ashes, I hear a truck rumble up the driveway.

The conditions are nowhere near perfect—in fact, they’re downright fucking tragic—but the truck rumbling up the driveway is Jake.

We don’t talk on the ride up the snowy mountain, Anna, Jake, and me.

When he climbed out of his truck, he’d greeted us, gave me a hug, and said he was sorry about my father’s passing. I clung to him, desperate for him to wrap me in his warmth and let me yell and cry and fall apart. It broke me to look at him. It broke me to hear his voice. More than that, I was angry. Angry that he not only left me, but Dad, too.

When he let me go, eyes averted and a pained expression on his face, I wanted to slug him. He might think the worst of me—he might find me vile and reprehensible—but the fact that he left Dad without saying goodbye was unforgiveable. Had his years with my dad meant nothing to him?

We’d had three days to get used to the idea of Dad being gone. Anna folded up his wheelchair and tucked it away, but his stuff was still everywhere and we both missed him so intensely it was like a crack ran through the wood floor, so deep and cragged we were both about to fall into the grief of it all. Jake showing up is at least an emotional distraction, and I find the anger comforting.

I try my best not to dwell on Jake, but it’s hard not to as I watch him in his brown duster on horseback in front of me, his horse stomping through the thick snow. Fortunately, it isn’t storming. It’s all blue sky and fresh powder—a blue bird, the skiers called it.

“Here we are,” Anna says when we come to the top of the hill. “You guys ready?”

Not unlike scattering Ty’s ashes over the side of the boat into the open sea, we, per his request, are set to scatter Dad’s over the snowy mountain cliff where Jake and I once sat on that warm, summer night ages ago.

The three of us stand side-by-side staring out at the frozen lake, the place where Jake and I found Scout running with her herd. I glance at him and find him watching me. This was Dad’s place, this was our place—it’s the best place.

“This was your spot.”

Anna nods. “We came up here all the time moving the cattle.”

“The second I saw it I knew it was special.”

“You can just feel it,” she says. “We felt it.”

I squeeze her gloved hand. “I’m so glad he had you,” I say.

“You coming back to him made him the happiest of all,” she says to me, her voice firm and true. The toughest woman I know has the softest heart.

As Anna slips the ashes over the icy cliff, I worry the tears will freeze to our faces.

That night, we have to sleep in tents. It’s too cold for open air. We only have one. Even though I catch him watching me like he wants to come closer, he rolls his bedroll far away from mine, so I roll mine out beside Anna’s.

I take care of the horses before turning in. Like Jake prophesized long ago, they’ve grown used to me. They are so beautiful in the moonlight that’s reflecting off the newly fallen snow.

When I return, the tent is filled with an awkward, nervous tension. It’s clear Jake and Anna have been talking, but the conversation ends the second I slip inside. Jake’s antsy, like he’s spent the day bottling up all his never-ending energy and doesn’t have an outlet. I get it. I can’t begin to relax with Jake so close, with so much unsaid, never mind freezing temperatures so cold we can see our breath. Eventually, Jake slips out of the tent. Once Anna falls asleep, I jump out of my sack, pull on my tall winter boots and heavy, faux-fur thick winter coat, and stumble out in the deep snow to find him.

Enough of this.

I find him standing on the edge of our cliff looking out. His thick brown coat is slick with snow. His cowboy hat keeps the moon’s glow off his face. His long legs look like they are made for dusty, snow-crusted jeans.

“Jake?” I call out tentatively.

He turns around, not at all startled to see me. There are tears on his face and he doesn’t wipe them away. Expressionless, he turns back toward the wide expanse of valley.

This isn’t going to be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. My dad’s words echo in my head. “Jake?”

He doesn’t turn around.

I close the distance between us. I want to put my hand on his shoulder but don’t dare.

“Did your daddy ever tell you about Crazy Horse?” Jake asks in an even voice. “He asked his warrior cousins to, after his death, paint his body red and plunge it into fresh water to be restored back to life. He said otherwise his bones would be turned to stone and his joints to flint in his grave, and this way, his spirit would rise.”

He stares out at the snow-capped mountains, the deep canyon of the frozen Snake River. “But when Crazy Horse was killed, the warriors were in such a state of mourning that nobody remembered his request. I used to worry about that all the time as a kid. That Crazy Horse’s spirit was stuck somewhere because those who loved him were so busy with their own pain that they forgot to do what he asked.”

Reaching out tentatively, I touch his forearm with my mitten-covered hand. “This is what he wanted, Jake. His ashes spread here. By us. Exactly this.”

“It’s not enough.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry, Paige.” His voice cracks into the distance. “He was a great man. As good as they get. Better, even.”

I wipe a tear off my cheek. “I feel like…this sounds morbid, but it might be better for him now, you know? He hated living like that, trapped in that broken body when his spirit was so strong.”

“Shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know.”

Jake nods. His Adam’s apple bobs. He turns his face away from me because a cowboy like Jake would never want me to see him crying.

We stay like that, Jake and I, quietly mourning both individually and together, until the sun rises over the horizon.

I open and close my lips several times, trying to get up the courage to say what I need to. What I’ve been rehearsing for when I finally had him alone, if I ever had him alone again.

The timing couldn’t be worse.

“Jake, I know this isn’t the best time, but I need to talk to you before you run off again. Or before I do. Did you…did you read the journal I left you?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you…try to get in touch with me?”

The five seconds between my question and his answer last a lifetime.

“I was doing something Gus wanted.”

“My dad?” I blink. “It wasn’t because you were disgusted by me?”

“Disgusted?” He wrinkles his nose. “No. Why would I be disgusted? I felt awful for you. The guy—I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but I’ll make an exception in this case—sounded like a real asshole. I would’ve kicked his ass from here to infinity if he was still alive.”

My eyes freeze open. “He was just screwed up.”

“Well, I didn’t know him, but I know you. You were the girl who felt badly tying a calf’s legs up. I don’t think you’d hurt a fly, Paige. Whatever you did to keep this guy away from you was done as self-preservation only. And where was your mom in all this? If your daddy had any idea… He owns several rifles, as you know.”

Jake doesn’t hate me.

Still I feel the need to explain. “It just happened. It was stupid, and we were desperate. All these kids at school kept dying, kept standing on the tracks—kids we knew, kids I grew up with. Our parents were so weird and never talked about anything, and it’s just… Jake, it’s so different there. Nothing felt real. All I wanted was to feel real and alive. We wanted to matter to someone, so we decided to matter to each other. It was only a few times and I knew it was wrong so I put a stop to it, but he couldn’t accept that it was over and when I finally ended it…”

“I know. I read your story. The whole thing.” He finally looks at me. His watery red eyes are almost too much to bear and I feel like I swallowed a stone keeping myself still. “Shit, Paige, things happen. It’s not like I’ve been a monk my whole life. What you did before you came back here is your business. What I don’t get is why you didn’t tell me about the mess back home? I could’ve helped you. Or helped you find someone who could.”

“You’re not mad?”

“How could I be?” His eyes are furious passion. “You are a beautiful, strong, challenging girl—no, woman. You deserve this.” His arms spread out at the expansion of the valley—wild and free and lit with morning. “You deserve everything.”

“Do I?” I’m not sure I do.

His eyes are hard. I know he’s waiting for me to change my answer.

“I do,” I amend. “I do now.”

“That’s right.”

“Where were you, Jake?”

He sighs and looks at the ground. “After you left town, I ended up in North Dakota working on an oil rig. Cash job. I wanted to save up for when you came back for the holidays. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You were working on an oil rig…to surprise me?” That is not the answer I expected.

“Yeah,” he says, looking shy. “A buddy of mine was heading up there and asked if I wanted to go along. It was right after you left, and I just…couldn’t stick around anymore with you gone. It was just…” He lets his voice trail off.

Jake missed me. It was as hard on him as it was on me. My heart swells.

“It was hard work,” he continues. “Good work, though.” He grinned. “And I made out with a lot of cash.”

“I thought you didn’t care anymore.” My voice cracks.

“Didn’t care? Of course I cared! I told Anna I was leaving to find work, and I’d be back for Christmas.”

“Jesus, Jake.” I crouch down. Hug my cold knees. My butt touches the soft snow.

He reaches for my elbow and pulls me back up. “I couldn’t be in touch. There was nothing. Just a shanty of a town. Men everywhere. Oil. It was crazy. But I promised your daddy I’d watch out for you. And I needed something of my own to get us started.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw falls to the ground. It takes me a few seconds to recover. I’m happy and sad. Elated and confused. I feel everything. “Get us started? As in, you and a pathetic city slicker?” It’s a poor attempt at a joke, and sure enough, his face is still. He won’t let me berate myself even if I’m joking.

“Pathetic? Yeah, right Ms. Straight A’s at Wesleyan. Congratulations by the way. I hear you’re killing it, Cowgirl.”

I choke out a laugh. Anna and her gossip. But more importantly, “What did my dad say? After I left?”

Jake smiles. “He said, ‘Find your way. Learn all you can. Be someone my daughter deserves.’”

“He did not.” I’m part proud, part embarrassed.

“He did. You know Gus.” The corner of his mouth starts to rise, remembering.

“What did you say?”

“I said okay, though you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, on the condition he not tell you what I was up to. When he agreed, I skipped town with my buddy, made a shitload of dough, and then signed up for fifteen units over a full load at the community college next semester.”

I scrub my face with my mittens, just to make sure I’m not dreaming. “I’m speechless. This whole time I thought…I thought you weren’t even thinking about me.”

“You nuts?” He cups my face in his big, strong hands, looks me right in the eyes, and tells me exactly what I want to hear. Tells me what I’ve been dying to hear all these months apart. “I think about you all the time, Paige.”

He pulls me into his arms, holds me for a long time and then, still holding my hands, lets me go a little so he can tell me something else face-to-face. “I’ve been thinking…this is terrible, but has to be said. Your dad’s life insurance policy was a good chunk of money. If we work hard all year, we can open her up next summer after you finish up your school year. You can come back for summers, right? I mean, if you want to? Eight Hands Ranch. You, me, your dad, Anna. I want to honor his death, really honor it. He’d want this. What do you say?”

Sparkly rainbow-colored unicorns have nothing on the joy I’m feeling. “I say yes.”

“Yes?” His eyes brighten. “Truly, yes?”

“I love you, Jake.” The truth tumbles out, and even if I wanted to, it’s too late to take it back in so I just go for it. “I love you. I want to be with you. Forever.”

I exhale a frosty breath into the dawn and wait.

He doesn’t make me wait long.

“I love you, too, Paige Mason.”

“You do?”

“Hell yeah.” He grins broadly. “I’ve loved you since you showed up in those pigtails calling me a ballerina fisherman. And when you showed up again in that sparkly cowgirl shirt, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It’s always been you.”

When Jake wraps me in his warm, strong arms, his kiss is as real and true as the mountain air that lightens my heavy head and stitches my broken heart.