[English] AFTER THE RAIN (Sau Cơn Mưa)

After the Rain
Page 21



My heart was racing, pushing blood to the center of my body, thumping so powerfully that it actually scared me. I ran marathons and cycled for miles, I was con***ioned for stamina, yet I found myself completely out of breath in her presence. I hadn’t thought about the hospital or Lizzy or surgery at all that day, but suddenly, and for the first time in my life, as I sat there breathing Ava in, I thought about our hearts in relation to love.

Surprised by the thought, I got up abruptly, breathing rapidly. I stood prostrate from the shock, held my hand over my chest, and stared down at her. I couldn’t form words.

A horrified look washed over her face and then morphed into embarrassment as her cheeks flushed pink. She got up and began running over the rocks toward the hill. I felt confused and guilty and chased after her.

“Ava, wait!”

Her bare foot slid across a moss-covered rock and sent her flying off her feet backward. It seemed like slow motion as I watched her turn in the air to protect her body. She landed on her side violently over jagged rocks.

She let out a deep moan. I ran to her and knelt. Her eyes were pressed shut as she began to cry. Her cry reminded me of Lizzy’s mother, unprocessed and real.

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes,” she managed to force out with a heavy breath.

“Where?” I said frantically. I scanned her body as she lay curled in the fetal position.

“Inside.”

“For Christ’s sake, where, Ava? Please let me help you. I’m a doctor.”

Her bloodshot eyes opened as her hand moved slowly to her chest. She firmly pressed the space over her heart. “In here. I’m bleeding. I must be,” she said, falling into a fit of full, powerful sobs.

Complete understanding struck me. I took her into my arms, cradled her like a baby, and let her sob into my chest. I had gone too far back on the rock and she was struggling with it.

After an hour of holding her tight, I felt her body relax. She had fallen asleep in my arms.

I thought back to a time when I had assisted on an eighteen-hour surgery with my father and another established doctor. Things kept going wrong but my father had remained steadfast. It was hard to understand how he had the physical stamina but I quickly learned that being a doctor required that. I had held forceps and a clamp on a bleeding artery for four hours straight during that surgery while my father tried to figure out the problem.

I held Ava for hours in the same way near the stream as she slept that day. My arms were tired and tingling with numbness but I held her with determination. It was unbelievable how deep and relaxed her breaths were. Examining her body, I noticed that her feet were tiny and her toes were painted pink, which I found adorable but peculiar, knowing the type of lifestyle Ava led. They looked newly painted and I wondered if she had done it for my benefit.

She made no sound as she slept. I felt her pulse with my hand and then bent to hear her steady heart. That woman must never have slept so peacefully. It was like she had fallen into a temporary death as she lay next to the trickling stream. Her body was as seemingly lifeless as the bodies I cut open on my table. No sign of life until you peer inside and see the organ pulsing. The strange thing is that when you first see a beating heart, you expect to hear that rhythm that is so synonymous with it, but there’s barely a sound. Instead it’s just a motion like it has an independent existence. The heart will actually beat a few times once it is outside of the body, and even though I’m aware of the scientific reason, I wondered in that moment, holding Ava by the stream, if maybe our hearts really could be broken by shattered love or tragedy.

When she finally stirred and opened her eyes, she looked to the sky first, her eyes registering the observation that the sun was much lower than it had been when she’d fallen asleep in my arms.

“What happened?” she asked with a bemused expression.

I laughed. “You fell and then took a little nap.”

“How long?”

“A few hours.” I helped her stand on shaky legs.

“And you held me that whole time?”

“It was the nicest few hours I’ve had in a while.” Putting on her shoes, she seemed quiet and withdrawn again. “I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries earlier. I’m sorry,” I said.

“I shouldn’t have, you know . . . we shouldn’t.”

I sat down next to her on a rock. “Are you still feeling a lot of grief?” What a dumb question that was.

“Grief, yes, I’m still feeling it and I always will. I don’t think it ever gets better.”

“It takes time to heal.”

“I don’t know if it’s the healing that hurts. I just miss him and I’ll never stop missing him.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” she said. She wasn’t being snarky; her eyes were wide with curiosity.

“I’m trying to.”

She nodded her understanding before looking back at the stream. “Let’s clean the fish down here. Bea can barbecue them tonight.”

Her abrupt change of subject was welcome. I thought it was interesting that the last time I had eaten meat was a piece of trout I’d ordered at a five-star restaurant in Hollywood. I watched Ava slice the belly of the small fish from neck to tail and then proceed to remove the guts. I thought about how she had wasted five years in her twenties grieving over a man who was too cowardly to live for such a strong, beautiful and capable woman.

She held the open fish belly out to me. “See? Nice and clean.” I scrunched up my nose. “You can’t be squeamish, you’re a surgeon.”

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I laughed. “Good point. I just um . . . well . . . you’re doing a great job. I think I’ll let you handle this.”

“Redman would have a field day if he saw your expression.”

“Please don’t tell Redman I let you do this. He’d hang me by my balls.”

She laughed. “He’ll do worse than that. You better get used to this kind of thing though, Nate. You’re on a cattle ranch after all.”

Ah, the irony.

After we had cleaned the fish, we headed back to the ranch. I finally got up the courage to run Tequila for a short way back. It was freeing to be out in the crisp and clean air. Surely there must be more pure oxygen in the air in Montana. Growing up in L.A., there was this idea that breathing in the air-con***ioning was actually healthier than going outside into the smog-filled air. People didn’t dare drive with their windows down or dance in the acid rain in the streets of Los Angeles.

In the barn, I wordlessly helped Ava brush the horses. Bea came down from the house and shuffled around in the shed. Ava went to her and handed over the bag of fish.

“Here. Trout.”

“Thank you, sweetie. I hadn’t a clue what I was going to cook tonight.” Ava nodded.

After Bea left, I asked Ava, “Do you like Bea?” in a placid, neutral tone so it seemed like idle curiosity.

She looked up immediately. “Yes, of course, I love her.”

“Oh. Sorry, I just . . . um, it seems like a struggle for you to talk to her.”

“It’s a struggle for me to talk to anyone.”

“Is it a struggle for you to talk to me?”

She threw the brush in a bin, walked past me, and replied, “Yes, but not as much.” As she left the barn I called out to her, “Are you going to be at dinner?”

“No.”

More than a week went by during which I only saw Ava in passing. I would see her truck and horse trailer going down the long driveway almost every other day, but at dinner she would be absent or sitting alone with the ugly dog on the back porch.

One morning, while I was performing the glamorous task of shoveling **** with Caleb, Ava passed us in her truck. I stood waiting for her to look over so I could wave but she didn’t. She just zoomed down the hill, leaving a large cloud of dust in her wake.

“Where does she go?” I asked.

“She teaches kids.”

“Teaches them what?”

“Astronomy,” he deadpanned.

“Really?”

“No, dip****, she teaches ’em how to ride horses.”

I laughed. “Okay, okay, you got me. That was a stupid question.”

He huffed and shook his head, looking away.

“What?” I said with an edge in my tone. His smug **** was getting on my nerves.

“Nothing, it’s just, you’re so interested in that bitch. I have no ****ing clue why.”

I straightened and leaned my forearm on the top of the shovel. “Why do you think she’s a bitch?”

“She just is. She doesn’t give anyone the time of day.” He continued shoveling while he talked. It was obvious that Caleb had some resentment toward her; he was more than just irritated at her indifference.

“You know her story, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, her husband blew his head off. Probably couldn’t ****in’ stand living with her anymore.” He stood, mimicked a gun with his finger under his chin, and mimicked the sound of a gunshot.

“You’re a dick, man.”

“What? Why don’t you say that to my face?”

“I just did.” Why in the world I would antagonize a three-hundred-pound man who towered over my six-foot frame, I’ll never know. Some deep-seated sense of chivalry surfaced in me.

“You better mind your business.”

In an utterly calm and matter-of-fact voice, I said, “How long have you worked here shoveling ****, my friend?”

“Long enough to know you’re barking up the wrong tree. She won’t even make eye contact with me, so your chances are slim.”

“So that’s what this is really about? What, you came on to her? Maybe you’re not her type.”

He threw the shovel effortlessly across the corral into a pile of tools. “And you are, faggot?”

“Neanderthal,” I shot back.

“*****,” he said, walking away.

“Maybe in another three thousand years when you’ve evolved we can have this conversation again. Do you even have opposable thumbs?” I yelled the last part as he disappeared from view.

In the evening, when Ava was unloading the horses from her trailer, I snuck up on her. “Boo.”

She didn’t startle.

“Wow, you’re no fun.”

“I’ve been told that before,” she said.

She backed Dancer down the ramp toward me. “Move out of the way, Nate. Never stand behind a horse unless you want to get kicked in the noggin—or another part of your body.”

I moved away and followed her into the barn where she put Dancer into a stall. “How was your day? What have you been up to?”

She threw a chunk of alfalfa into Dancer’s food trough and petted her head. When she finally turned to face me, she leaned against the short stall door with a brazen smirk, a look I had never seen on her.

“I give horseback-riding lessons to some kids on another ranch, but you already knew that, I’m sure.”

She was on to me. She must have known I had been asking about her.

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“Well, how’d the lessons go?”

“Excellent. What did you do today?”

I smiled really big. “Shoveled ****.”

“How was that?”

“Pretty ****ty.” We both laughed but she looked down, almost as if she were too embarrassed to really let it out. “I also got to know Caleb a little better.”

“I’m sorry,” she said seriously.

“Why don’t you two get along?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t like me . . . ,” her voice trailed off. She looked away and her mood changed.

“Why don’t you think he likes you?”

“Well, one night . . . he tried . . .” She took a breath through her nose and looked up to the barn ceiling. “One night he tried to kiss me. I don’t know why. I didn’t send him mixed signals, I swear.”

“I believe you.” And I did believe her. She didn’t give anyone any signals, good or bad; she rarely looked up from her feet. “Keep going.”

“He caught me on the steps, just as I was coming down and he was going up to the main house. He grabbed my hips and leaned in. I slapped him.”

“What did he do?”

“He called me a bad word and said I was the reason for, um . . . for the stuff that’s happened in my life.”

“Nothing is your fault. I know what happened.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does. That ****ing oaf has no right to treat you that way.” I looked up pensively. “Just wondering, what word did he call you?”

“The c-word.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Even as I said it, I couldn’t believe my reaction. Apparently there’s something in the Montana water that instantly transforms an agnostic, Starbucks-loving, vegetarian pacifist into a God-and-country-loving protector of all women and cattle.

She laughed through her nose. “You would be wasting your time.”

It got quiet for several moments as we faced each other in the barn. The atmosphere was heady. I watched her eyes dance around my face and then remain fixed on my lips. Part of me wanted to lean in and kiss her, but she made no motion toward me—and frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to get slapped.

“Honestly, Ava, I don’t think it’s that Caleb doesn’t like you. It’s the exact opposite. He probably likes you a lot.” I suddenly sounded very pragmatic, as if I were speaking to a room of college students. “My bet was that he felt rejected, and because he has a small ***** he felt the need to make you feel bad about yourself.”

She smiled. Her look was endearing, almost like gratitude. “Thank you. That was a very interesting explanation of what might have happened that day on the stairs. Still, everyone here knows what happened to me. It’s hard not to think that they blame me for Jake.” I could tell it pained her to say his name.

“That’s not true.” I moved toward her to close the gap but she shook her head, stopping me. “You shouldn’t get close to me.”

I squinted. “Physically close?”

“No, you just shouldn’t want to know me. Jake was my husband. You know that, right?” Her eyes filled with tears. “My husband, Jake, killed himself because I couldn’t love him right. I couldn’t make him want to live.”

“Like I said, I know the story, Ava, but you’ve got it wrong. Just let me hold your hand. It’s easier this way.” I reached out and took her hand and held it as we stood several feet apart from each other. Her palm was cold, small, and calloused. There was a bit of dirt under her nails but the skin on her outer hand was smooth.

“It’s easier to talk when there’s not that uncomfortable space between us.”

“Your hand is smooth,” we both said at the same time.

“Doctor hands are always smooth because we have to exfoliate so much.” I smiled and she laughed a high-pitch, fluttering fairylike sound. It made my heart skip a beat.

“Exfoliate. That’s funny. You’re funny, Nate.”

“No one has ever told me that.”

“That’s kind of sad. I feel like I’ve smiled and laughed more around you than anyone else in years.”

Both of our expressions turned serious again. As I held her hand in mine, I thought I should try and really talk to her.

“Where is your family?”

“Not around. My father is dead.” She swallowed. “My mom went back to Spain. My brother lives in New York. And I’m here, where I belong, in some kind of hell.”

“Stop,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Don’t say that.”

“That’s how I feel.”

“Well, it’s beautiful here now, during the summer.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“At first the days melted into each other. After Jake’s accident, I would wake up and think hard about what happened the day before but all of my memories were cloudy, even the recent ones. I couldn’t get over it, and then when I thought I was finally able to accept it, that Jake would be paralyzed forever, he killed himself. After that it wasn’t just days anymore—it was weeks, melting together like my life was in fast-forward. But I’m only twenty-four.”

I wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m glad you’re talking to me about this. Maybe we can hang out tonight, after dinner?”

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She blinked and then let out a heavy breath. “No, I don’t think so.” She seemed conflicted and I didn’t want to press. I knew I would have to take my time if I wanted to get to know her. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Even when I wasn’t with her, I thought about her hair, the way she smelled, and her warm, smooth skin.

After dinner I went into my room and fiddled with my computer until I was able to dial up onto the Internet. Every second it took to get online felt like an hour. It was completely obvious to me why people on the ranch didn’t use the Internet. After hours of clicking in frustration and watching that little timer on the screen go in circles, I finally kicked my feet up and began reading. Just as I turned the second page of a book called The Montana Cowboy: Legends of the Big Sky Country, I heard the sounds of small pebbles hitting my window.

I bolted upright and went to the ledge. Sweeping the curtains aside, I looked out to see Ava peering up at me from the ground, just a few feet below.

I opened the window. “Hi, Ava.” I smiled. “I’m sure Redman and Bea wouldn’t mind you using the door.” She was so cute standing there, gazing up at me.

“Shhh.” She held her finger to her mouth. Her eyes were wide. “I have an idea.”

I could smell whiskey on her breath, even from four feet away. “Do you want me to lift you up here? You want to come in my room?” Suddenly I was seventeen again and it made me smile.

“Just put on a jacket and come on. I have something to show you.”

I reached for my jacket and shoes and then hopped through the window, landing hard and almost falling into a roll.

When I stood up, she put her hands on my shoulders and said, “I need your help.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Yes.” She nodded dramatically, arching her eyebrows like she was proud of the fact. She pulled a flask from her pocket and handed it to me. “Want some?”

I can’t say that I honestly knew anyone who drank liquor out of a flask, certainly not a five-foot-four, small-boned woman, but I was intrigued. Following her toward the cabin, I unscrewed the flask and took a large gulp. Having not drank except for a few times in college and high school, the liquor made me gag a little but then it went down smooth, giving my throat a warm sensation. “We’ll need more. Let’s get more,” she said, pointing to the flask as she ran up the stairs to her cabin.

I stood outside on the porch until she came back out with a square Jack Daniels bottle.

“This will do,” she said.

“Where are we going?”

Following behind her, holding the bottle in one hand and flask in the other, I wondered for a second if there was actually a legitimate reason why people told me to stay away from her. We approached a second cabin on the other side of the main house. I could see Caleb through the bedroom window.

“Be quiet,” she said. “Don’t make a sound. Look.” She pointed toward a metal cage, one you might use as a dog crate. It was in shadow under the eaves of the cabin, but there was no mistaking what was inside. Even in the darkness I could see the white above the raccoon’s eyes and on his nose.

“Did you catch that?”

“Yes, it was easy.” She smiled so gleefully.

“I’m not sure raccoons make for very good pets.”

“He’s not a pet, silly.”

She stood on her tippy-toes and peeked into Caleb’s cabin. “Okay, it’s almost time.” We could hear the shower in the bathroom go on. “Here.” She handed me a pair of leather work gloves. “I need your help carrying the cage inside. We’re going to leave Caleb a little present.”

Finally, I understood. I found it hard to keep a straight face. “You’re a sneaky little girl, aren’t you?”

“I’ve never done anything like this but I take it Caleb wasn’t very nice to you, and well, you know, he wasn’t very nice to me either. I figured it was time to teach him a lesson.”

“Are you avenging my pride, sweetheart?” I winked and she smiled back.

“That’s what us country girls do.”

“God, I’ve been missing out on so much.”

We picked up the cage while the raccoon scratched and hissed at us.

“Oh ****,” I yelped.

“Don’t touch him, he’s a mean little bastard.”

“But he looks so cute.”

“He’s probably rabid. I hope he bites Caleb.”

“Ava, you’ve got a real mean streak,” I teased.

Caleb’s cabin door was open. Ava opened the cage and poked the animal from the other side, encouraging him to run out. We left him there to scurry around the front room and then we ran down the steps outside and hid in the shadows, spying through the cabin’s window.

We waited, watching until Caleb came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel from the waist down. He stood stock-still in the hallway. From our vantage point, we had a front-row seat to the show. Caleb screamed like a girl and threw his sizable arms in the air, inadvertently dropping his towel before running back into the bathroom. The giant man was scared of raccoons.

Ava and I both slid to the ground, holding our stomachs and laughing so hard but trying not to make a sound.

“Oh my god, did you see his face?” she said. “He was terrified.”

“That was classic—I’ll never forget it. I wonder what’s gonna happen to the raccoon?”

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“I don’t think Caleb will ever come out of that bathroom. Maybe we should open the front door.”

“Nah. He’ll figure it out. I can’t imagine that he’s the type of guy to ask for help, even when he needs it.”

“Now who has the mean streak?” she teased. “But you were right about one thing.” We had finally controlled our hysterics and were seated with our backs against the cabin.

“What’s that?”

“He definitely has a small . . . you know what.” Even in the dark I could see her wide grin.

“Yes, he most definitely has little-dick syndrome,” I said in a pseudo-serious doctor voice.

“Did you learn that in medical school?”

“It’s weird. For once in my life I don’t want to think about medical school, or being a doctor or surgery or hospitals. This is nice. Sitting here with you. I’ve never seen this many stars.”

She looked up. “Yes, they dulled for me after I lost Jake.” She looked up at me. “Do you know what I mean?”

I nodded.

“But they seem a bit brighter tonight.”

She was finally talking with ease about Jake and I didn’t want her to stop. “Was he a lot of fun?”

“Yeah. Jake had a real hardworking serious side to him, but he could be funny and silly, too. He wasn’t an educated guy; he had a rough childhood and a sensitive ego.”

“How do you mean?” I knew exactly what she meant but I wanted to keep her talking.

“I don’t know, I guess now that I’m a little older I can look back and see that he had some real flaws.” She looked away and I could tell the words pained her to say. “I don’t mean that he wasn’t a good man but he couldn’t really keep his pride inside. He could be boastful and arrogant. I thought in the beginning that he was just ****sure and trying to impress me, but after the accident his true colors showed through and he wasn’t very good to me.”

“That’s really terrible, Ava. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Maybe I deserved it.”

“Why in the world would you say that?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know if I ever belonged here. Now I haven’t seen my mom in five years, my brother is off in New York living his life, and here I am. All because I followed a cowboy to Montana and got married,” she said with a little laugh.

“Why can’t you go to Spain and live with your mother?”

“I was born here. I’ve never even been there. That’s my parents’ country, not mine. I don’t really have a place that’s mine, I guess. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’d like a swig of that if you wouldn’t mind handing it to me,” she said, pointing to the whiskey.

I handed her the bottle. She took a big gulp and then sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t really understand why you’re here. I mean, I know your uncle’s here but why would you want to leave your fancy life in L.A. to come out here and shovel ****?”

I laughed. “I’m not sure one would call what I had a fancy life. I never wanted anything more than to become a doctor, and that kind of consumed me. Everything for my career fell into place perfectly.” I paused for a long time, searching for the right words, but nothing eloquent came to me. “I ****ed up and basically caused a young girl’s death. I’m probably going to be sued for malpractice, as well as the hospital. I feel terrible about it.”

“Do you feel more terrible about being sued or for the girl’s death?”

It was a question that should have been offensive but wasn’t. It hit a nerve, but only because I questioned the same thing myself. Her eyes were wide, watching me intently. “I feel terrible for the girl, the life lost, the family that’s mourning her. But up until this week I was also terrified that I would lose my job. When I got home the day it happened, I realized I had nothing but my work. I didn’t know what to do with myself. My father sent me here.”

“To clear your head?”

“Something like that, although if I know my father he might have sent me out here more to deflate my head than anything.”

“Oh.”

“It might have worked because the job seems a lot less significant now. I feel terrible for the girl and her family. That’s it.”

She nodded, smiling with compassion.

We carried the cage back to Ava’s cabin and as we set it down, the door swung open, gouging the fat part of my palm near my thumb.

“****.” I held my hand, gripping it tightly.

“What happened?”

“****.”

“What’s wrong, Nate?”

“I cut my hand.”

“Why weren’t you wearing the gloves? Here, let me see,” she said, pulling me inside of the cabin. I didn’t have time to look around; I followed her straight to the sink. She turned the water on, forced my hand under it, and left, returning a moment later with the bottle of whiskey.

My hand was gushing. I was trying to act tough, but frankly my hand was pulsing so hard that I couldn’t stop gritting my teeth.

“Gosh, you’re really bleeding,” she said. She unscrewed the whiskey, took a swig, and then held it to my mouth. Placing her other hand on the back of my neck to brace me, she tilted the bottle up so I could take a sip. Her small hands were warm and soft but strong.

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“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She pulled my hand out of the water and dumped whiskey on it.

“What are you doing?” I yelled. She cowered immediately. “I mean, why would you do that?”

“Oh, I . . . well, it’s just that there was a wild animal in that cage. Who knows what kind of diseases it was carrying. The alcohol will sterilize it.” Her voice was small.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice at you, it’s just that, isn’t there . . . some antibacterial ointment lying around somewhere?”

At that point she was applying pressure to my hand with a paper towel. “No, I don’t have any, but Dale probably does . . . something he uses on the horses.”

My eyes shot open even wider. “No, that’s okay.”

She looked at the cut, which was still bleeding. “I can fix this.”

She held my hand but rummaged through a drawer to her left with her other hand and found a little tube.

“What is that?”

“Super glue.”

“No.” I shook my head.

She looked up at me with determination on her face. There was more than a distant memory of a fiery woman in her. “I have a needle and thread if you think that would be more enjoyable.”

I held my hand out as she squirted the sticky liquid right into my wound and forced the skin together. It burned for several moments and then she released it and the cut was sealed.

“See, good as new.”

“I will probably die of some kind of toxic poisoning from this stuff.”

“There’s a hospital about fifty miles away. I can take you there so they can put some ointment on that itty-bit cut, but I’ve been drinking so your chances of living are higher if you just stay here and settle for the glue.” She smirked.

“Ha ha,” I mock-laughed but thought about her words for a moment—stay here—and wondered if it was an invitation. “Maybe I should stay here tonight in your cabin so you can nurse me back to health.”

She laughed lightheartedly until, like storm clouds quickly gathering in the sky, her expression turned dark. Something in my words hit a nerve. It looked like she was trying to talk herself out of the feeling.

“I’m kidding,” I said. “I think my hand will be fine, barring some strange Montana-specific infection.”

She smiled again finally then walked me to the door.

CHAPTER 7

These Boots

Avelina

Nothing is more adorable than a man trying to mask the pain of a tiny cut. Nate’s hand had bled a lot because of the nature of his injury, not the depth. It was like a large papercut and definitely didn’t need stitches, but he looked horrified by my methods nonetheless. He walked toward the front door to the cabin while he inspected the cut further. Turning, he said, “Thank you, Ava. I appreciate this. It seems the glue is holding.”

“Of course, no problem. Oh, I have something for you.” I ran into my room and grabbed a box that housed a new pair of boots, size ten and a half. I had bought them for Jake but he was never able to wear them.

When I handed the box to Nate, he searched my face for some indication of my meaning. “What are these for?”

“Well, you needed boots and these are your size—the same as Jake, but he never wore these so don’t worry.”

“Thank you. I mean it. This is really thoughtful of you.”

“It’s no biggie. You’ll have to break them in a bit.”

He peeked under the lid. “Wow, I like them.” They were dark brown in a very understated design, something I knew Nate could pull off even with Levi’s after he left the ranch.

“I think they’ll look really good on you.” The whiskey was making me feel braver than usual. I studied Nate’s lips. They were full but not puffy. When he finished a sentence he would purse them a tiny bit and then smirk on one side. It was a subtle but charming habit.

“We should hang out again like this.” I nodded and smiled. “You fixed me all up with a new pair of boots and a super-glued hand.”

I got lost in thought for a moment once again, wondering what it would have taken to fix Jake up. Why couldn’t I fix Jake? My eyes started to water. “I have to get to bed,” I said.

“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I’m just . . . I had a lot to drink tonight and I think I need to get to bed.”

He swallowed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

How could he read my mind? It was my fault. Just as I didn’t believe him when he said it wasn’t, I could tell he didn’t believe me when I said, “It wasn’t yours either . . . with your patient.”

“Good night.” His hands were full with the box so he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I felt the stubble from a day or two of growth covering his sharp jawline. He still emanated that rich smell but it was mixed with an earthy spice from being outside among the trees.

“Good night,” I managed to get out just above a whisper.

After a long night of drinking, I fell into a deep slumber. There were no dreams of Jake lying in a pool of blood when I slept that deeply. I awoke to the sound of sharp knocks on the door. The clock read five a.m. I rushed to put on sweats and then hurried to the door. Swinging it open, I found Dale on the other side, smiling from ear to ear.

“Hey kid, it’s time. Rosey’s in labor.” She was a gray mare we’d had for a few years and everyone was anticipating the birth of her foal. It was always a little brighter on the ranch with a baby horse trotting about.

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“Okay, I’ll be right there.” When he turned to walk down the steps, I added, “Did you tell Nate? I bet he’d like to see it.”

Dale looked back up at me with a warmhearted grin and said, “Sure, I’ll tell him, sweetie.”

In the barn, Redman was sitting on a bench while Bea and Trish peered over Rosey’s stall door.

“Morning, Red.”

“Morning, kid. Why you girls get such a kick out of that scene, I’ll never know.” He puffed his pipe.

I smiled. “It’s a new life, Red. Doesn’t everyone dream of one of those?”

He made a huffing sound and then looked away.

“Get on up here, girl. I think it’s going to be soon,” Trish said to me.

Dale and Nate came walking up just as the mare began straining harder. She was lying on her side and we could see that she was delivering the placenta and not the foal.

“****!” Dale yelled. “Nate, get my bag and get back in here. We have to help her.”

Nate left and returned quickly with Dale’s medical bag. Both men rushed into the stall to assess the situation. “What do we have to do?” Nate asked.

“We have to cut the placenta and help deliver the foal.” Dale threw Nate a pair of long gloves, which we were all familiar with except for Nate. “Put those on.” Nate eyed them warily. I’m not sure his vacation plans involved reaching up inside of a writhing horse and pulling a foal out but he followed Dale’s orders with diligence and before long that was exactly what he was doing. Dale cut the placenta and maneuvered the horse by pushing on her belly. Nate reached in and pulled the front legs, bringing the foal’s head with it. After a few short moments he dragged the slimy creature toward the mare’s head. Nate instinctively knew to pull the placenta away from the foal’s mouth and nose. It came away like cellophane.

When the baby attempted to stand on her shaky front legs, everyone let out a huge sigh of relief. After lifting the foal’s back legs, Nate raised his hands in triumph and announced, “It’s a girl!” He was smiling with such joy that it made me smile, too. Trish actually cried happy tears.

“You did good, Nate,” I said.

Everyone turned and looked at me and then Dale said, “You’re right, Ava, he did good.”

We watched the mare clean up her foal and then the moment came when the sweet little baby finally stood on all four legs and took her first steps. We were all leaning over the corral, squinting through the bright sun coming up over the intimidating mountain peaks in the distance. “So precious,” Trish said under her breath. The vision made me feel alive, at least in that moment, and that was more than I had felt in a long time. I knew Trish was so moved by the births of the animals because she could never experience it herself, which saddened me.

Nate watched in awe as the tiny horse very quickly learned how to walk and then run. When she went to feed from her mother, we all turned toward the house. Each one of us was exhausted except for Nate, who looked thrilled.

He came up next to me. “That was amazing.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said as he continued walking with me toward the cabin.

I stopped and looked over at him. “Where are you going?”

His smile was shy for the first time. “I was going to walk you back.”

“Oh. You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“I’m probably going to take a nap; I have a lesson at three.”

We continued walking. “Thanks for telling Dale to come and get me.”

“He might have anyway. What did he tell you exactly?”

Approaching the door to my cabin, Nate stopped and smirked. “He said you didn’t want me to miss it.” His eyes squinted slightly. It was that look that made me feel like he was searching for a way past some invisible force field that protected my soul.

“It’s true. I didn’t want you to miss it. It’s amazing to see that in real life.”

“You’re amazing,” he said in a low voice.

My fingers were tingling. Heat began spreading from the center of my body out to my limbs. I took a hurried breath. He looked down between us at our feet and then reached for my hand. He brought it to his mouth and, without looking up, he kissed it like some chivalrous fifteenth-century knight paying respect to his queen.

He looked up and shook his head. “I’m not this guy. You make me feel . . .” He searched for the words. “You make me feel. That’s it. I haven’t felt anything for anyone like this.”

“What do you feel?”

“I feel like I want to be around you all the time and . . . I just . . . I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

“About what?”

“About your mouth.”

Before I knew what was happening, I kissed him instantly. He responded equally fast, returning the kiss and pressing me hard against the door to the cabin. Gripping the back of my neck with one hand and moving the other to my hip, he closed any empty space left between us. His lips were soft but his motions were urgent. I let myself forget for just a little while about all of the pain. His mouth moved to my jawline and kissed a trail to my ear. His warm, rough skin sent shivers down to my core.

We were both breathing hard. His mouth went to mine again and that’s when it hit me. Jake was lying in a grave, rotting, because of me, and I was making out with a doctor on our porch. I pushed him away, almost angrily.

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He looked hurt. “I need more,” he said, breathing heavily.

“You can never do that again.”

His faced scrunched up. He jerked his head back in shock and then stepped forward again. “But I want you. And you want me.”

“No.” I turned, opened the door quickly, and locked it behind me. I slid against the wall and fell into a boneless pile on the floor.

Through the door, he pleaded with me. “I’m sorry, Ava. Just let me in. Just let me hold you.” A few moments went by and then in a lighter voice he said, “You kissed me.”

I stood, feeling the heavy weight of my decision as I opened the door. “Stay there.” I put my hand out.

His arms were crossed over his chest. “I won’t touch you, but we should talk about what just happened.”

I held up my hand and showed him my wedding band still firmly on my ring finger, cemented in place by guilt. “I’m married.”

He was speechless. He looked down and let out a breath through his nose as he shook his head with disappointment.

“I’m married,” I said again.

When he looked up his eyebrows were pushed together in a look of pure pity. He uncrossed his arms and held them out. “Let me hold you for a moment. I can’t imagine that Jake would mind having someone look out for his wife and comfort her . . . just for a moment.”

I moved into the warmth of his body, my arms clutching him around his waist. He ran his hand into my hair at the back of my neck and guided my head down to rest against his chest. I fell into quiet sobs. Tears ran steadily down my face and onto his clothes. Rocking back and forth, he whispered, “Shh. It’s okay.”

I had broken down to Nate twice in a short amount of time. I had fallen into his arms like a helpless child, hungry for affection. My pain over Jake was surfacing again because my feelings for Nate were growing stronger. I tried to convince myself that nothing would make sense about us, and there was no way we would ever work. We came from two totally different worlds, and he would leave to return to L.A. eventually.

Sniffling, I asked him, “Why do you want to be around me?”

“Because I like you.”

“But what does it all mean?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t necessarily want to analyze it. Why don’t we just enjoy each other’s company? I’ll be here for another couple of weeks. We can fish and ride and try to forget about everything else.”

“And then you’ll leave?”

“Yes. I have to go back. There’s an investigation and I have to meet with the hospital board.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know.”

I knew the answer. Nate would go back to his life in Los Angeles and I would be left with my guilt and the memory of my dead husband.

“I don’t think that I can . . . be with you. I mean, be with you in that way.” I glanced up to gauge his expression. I could tell he knew what I meant.

“I understand. We’re friends though, right?”

“Yes.”

He kissed my forehead and then let me go, gently spun me around, and pushed me toward the door. “Get some rest.”

I turned back and looked him in the eye. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course.”

“Can we go swimming tomorrow? There’s a swimming hole. We can ride there?”

He gripped my chin with his thumb and index finger, tilting my head up toward his face. With a small, sincere smile, he said, “I would love that.”

Lying in my bed that day, I thought back to the kiss and Nate’s words. How he wanted more. If I was being honest with myself, so did I. But then I turned and curled up on the pillow next to me . . . Jake’s pillow. I cried myself to sleep, begging for someone to save me.

It must have been only hours later when I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it Trish was there, holding out a pan of banana bread. “I know you can’t say no to Bea’s banana bread.”

She was up to something. “What did Nate tell you?” I opened the door farther to let her enter. She walked past me into the kitchen and began making coffee.

Standing behind her, I wondered if she was there as part of some intervention or something. “Did you hear me?” I asked.

“I heard you. Nate didn’t tell me nothin’. Let’s have some coffee and some of this delicious bread, made with love just for you.”

“What are you doing here?”

She put her hands on her hips and huffed. “Where’d you learn your manners? I live in the cabin right next door to you and you’ve never asked me to come over for a visit. You rarely eat dinner with us in the big house, and in the last few years I’ve scarcely heard you mumble more than five words to anyone at any given time.” She reached out and braced my arms. “I’m here for you, baby.”

I sat down hesitantly. “Thank you?” I said, like a question.

“I want you to talk to me.”

“About what?”

“About why I saw you twisting tongues with my nephew on the porch one minute and then crying in his arms the next?”

I planted my face in my hands over the table. “I kissed him.”

“Good for you!”

“What?” At first I thought she was scolding me for the kiss. I peeked at her between my fingers.

“Listen, sweetie, it’s okay for you to kiss Nate. Maybe Redman thinks differently, but who gives a **** about what that old man thinks.”

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I laughed in spite of myself, and she laughed, too. When we quieted, the heavy weight of my guilt returned, dragging my expression down. Trish looked past me out the window. “You thinkin’ about Jake?”

“Yes.” I bit my lip hard to numb the pain in my heart.

“You still love Jake?”

“No . . . I hate him. I hate him so much, and that tears me apart because maybe I always hated him.” I began to cry. “Maybe I always hated him and that’s why he killed himself because I couldn’t love him enough.”

The pain ran so deep in me, though I remained quiet and still on the surface, like an eerily calm lake. No life to ripple the water, no color to show the depth, just a black void. The kiss was like finding my way to the surface and breaking through for a moment, breathless and struggling. I wanted more air but taking it in was painful. I was used to the suffocating darkness. It seemed easier to sink back down into the pain because at least it was quiet in the depths of my hell.

She reached across the table and took my hands in hers. “Jake was a cowboy through and through, not like your California boys.” I shook my head but she went on quickly. “He was raised by a mean drunk and neglectful mother. His only sense of self-worth came from his work and his love for you.” Both of us were sniffling and trying to ward off more tears. “You were more than any man could ask for. Jake knew you loved him but he thought he couldn’t love you back. He didn’t know how, and that’s what killed him. He was dead long before he fired that gun.”

“He wouldn’t have been in that chair if it wasn’t for me.”

“Do you think he would have let that horse trample anyone? It didn’t matter that it was you standing there. What you should remember are all the good times. The times when he was tender with you. He was so gentle but strong. I used to tell Dale that Jake treated you like a delicate little flower. You can hate him all you want but you know it’s only what he did in the end, when he was a shell of a man, that you hate. Have some sympathy for his soul, Ava.”

“He haunts me.”

“I think it’s just the bad memories that haunt you. He’s with the Lord now, and if he’s watching you he only wants what’s best for you. I know that about Jake. He would want you to be happy. I think he thought the only way he could find redemption for his soul is if he let you be. He had put you through enough.”

“How can he be with the Lord if he took his own life?”

“Get Redman outta your ear, kid.” She waved her hand around. “I’m tired of hearing all that nonsense. I’m going to help you put away some of the bad memories.”

We didn’t talk any more about Nate that day. I told Trish the raccoon story and she laughed for ten minutes straight. She insisted that I get rid of the pillow that Jake slept on, and so I did. I even went into town and bought new sheets and some other home goods the next day. We had long gotten rid of Jake’s chair, almost immediately after he died, but the small TV in the corner of the front room still sat there, staring back at me. I picked it up and took it into the main house where Redman was reading in his leather chair.

“Red, do you want this TV?” He stood up quickly and took it from my hands.

“Yes, but Bea’s in the kitchen,” he said furtively, his eyes darting around the room.

“Well, you better put it out in the shed unless you want to get in trouble.” He took off with it, and I knew it would soon be added to a large pile of hoarded goods.

I had held onto that TV all those years because Jake had liked it. It shouldn’t have mattered, though, because Jake wasn’t with me anymore. Back in my cabin, I threw everything of his—all of his clothes and shoes, his toothbrush and razor, and piled them into a box. I kept pictures of him up and mementos that we shared, but that was it. The memory of Jake’s last year was in that box. I carried it to Caleb’s cabin and knocked on the door.

He looked tired when he answered. “Long night?” I asked innocently.

He squinted, appraising me. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry we don’t get along better. This is all of Jake’s stuff. Maybe you can use some of it, or one of your friends from Wilson’s ranch will want it. There’s good Wranglers in there and Jake’s Stetson.”

Caleb’s eyes grew wide. “You’re gettin’ rid of his Stetson?”

“I have to, Caleb. I know you don’t understand me or how I’ve behaved in the past, but you haven’t been perfect, either. I’m standing here now, trying to make amends with you. If you want the hat, it’s yours. If not, give it away.”

“Okay.” He ran his hand through his hair and then took the box from my hands. “You’re into that doctor so you feel like you can make nice with me.”

“It has nothing to do with that. Can’t we stop this crap between us, please?”

We stared at each other in silence. I finally saw resignation wash over him. He nodded.

“See you at dinner,” I said as I walked away.

CHAPTER 8

Here or There

Nathanial

Staring at an email from my father on behalf of the hospital, I found myself reading the same line over and over again while I thought about Ava, her skin and her eyes and the way she pressed herself against me in the sweetest way. The sounds she made against my ear as I kissed her neck.

I was being sued, my career was on the line, and all I could think about was Ava. I called my father.

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“Hey son. How are you?”

“I’m great!” I said enthusiastically.

“Whoa, I didn’t expect that.”

“I’m enjoying my time out here. It’s beautiful.”

“That’s good to hear. You’ll need to come back in a week or so when the investigation is final. I know you’ve never gone through this before but it’s nothing to worry about. You’ll sit in front of the board and basically reiterate your statement.”

“Have you heard anything about the autopsy?”

“No, that will be included in the information presented to the board. You know her parents insisted on it and they have a lawyer?”

“Yes, I know, I’m reading all of that lovely news now. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“This has happened to me several times, Nate. You’ll get used to it. When family members lose a loved one they need a reason, and usually they blame the doctor.”

“But I did miss something in her chart and ECG.”

“There’s no way of knowing if she would have lived or died even if you’d seen that blip. The important thing to remember is that the procedure you were attempting saves lives, and whatever happened on that table was not as a result of anything you did.”

“But I didn’t catch it in time.”

“Stop blaming yourself. I sent you out there to get away from all of this for a while and gain some perspective.”

“You’re right. It’s just that when I think about it, it makes me sick. I’ll just have to wait and see what’s decided. Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t we ever come out here anymore?”

“Well, life has been busy, Nate.”

“I actually feel alive out here when I’m not thinking about the investigation.” I wanted to tell him that I’d met someone but I didn’t want to marginalize the investigation into Lizzy’s death. It was the first time I wished I hadn’t taken a job alongside my father. It made it impossible for us to have a father/son relationship.

“Is Dale keeping you busy?”

“Yes, I helped deliver a foal this morning.”

“That’s great, son.”

“I might look into a transfer. There’s a heart hospital in Missoula.”

“I’m familiar. Why would you want to practice there?”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t know, I was just thinking.” There were several moments of awkward silence. “I’ll see you soon, Dad.”

“Okay, son.”

From my bedroom window I watched the sun heading down toward the highest peak of the mountains in the distance. I could smell garlic and onions from Bea’s stew wafting through the house. I left my room and found Ava leaning against the wall in the dark hallway. I gazed at her. Her long hair was down in loose curls over her shoulders. She was wearing a floral cotton dress with red cowboy boots. Her skin was glistening and her lips were tinged a shade pinker.

“You look stunning.”

In a slow, shy voice, she said, “I saddled up the horses. If you wanted to go now . . . for that swim?”

“I thought you had a lesson?”

“I canceled it.” Her bottom lip quivered.

When I smiled, she relaxed; my day was getting better and better. “Isn’t it a little late and cold?”

“I know where there’s a hot spring.”

“Oh.” Maybe she did send mixed signals. I knew she was trying to work it all out in her head. I made a promise to myself that no matter what she did, I wouldn’t take advantage of her. In my mind, the dress, the cowboy boots, and the lip gloss were just signs that Ava was trying to find the girl lost inside somewhere. She was trying to be social, and as it stood I was her only friend—a guy she had only known for a couple weeks.

“Ready?”

“Are you going to ride in that?” I asked.

“It’s not that far.”

I followed on another horse as Ava rode Dancer at a full gallop through a meadow of short grass that stretched half a mile or so behind the ranch house. Her dress flew up around the tops of her smooth, sun-tanned thighs as her hair floated behind her in silky, chocolate waves. She rode with such ease and grace, it was hard to take my eyes off of her. Sitting atop a black-spotted white horse in her floral dress and almost black hair, Ava looked like a painting in motion. Some artist, some god I hadn’t believed in before, was proving his existence to me. I could smell her in the air like wildflowers.

I rode up next to her and shouted over the wind, “You’re beautiful!”

She giggled and then tapped Dancer with her heels and took off. I tried to keep up beside her. After wrapping the reins around the horn, she let go and threw her head back and her arms out, palms facing outward, feeling the world rush toward her. How freeing, I thought. Her body was open toward the sky in a seraphic gesture. I watched her in awe until the horses naturally slowed as we came to the end of the grassy field.

“That felt good,” she said. “The hot spring is here. We’ll let the horses graze.”

She jumped down. I followed her to the rocky edge of a very small cliff. We climbed down a few feet and before I could see any water I could smell the sulfur. We went down a short bit farther until we saw a clear-blue pool of naturally steaming water.

“How hot is it?”

“It’s perfect,” she said as she removed her boots and set them on a rock. I did the same and then took my shirt off. We were standing on opposite sides of the small pool. She looked me up and down and then reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. I swallowed hard, expecting to see a swimsuit, but I was wrong. She stood in a white lacy camisole and matching panties, which might have actually covered more than the typical swimsuits I was used to seeing on the beaches of L.A., but this was much ***ier and delicate.