Winterkill. P.H. Turner
no home?”
“Mom, I have a job. The worst that could happen is that I have to stay in a hotel and store my stuff for awhile.”
She worried at a miniscule piece of lint on her sleeve. “But Julia is helping you. Right?”
“She is. She and Dave got married, remember?”
“That boy she was dating when you two were in college?”
“Yes, they moved from Boulder to Cheyenne after they graduated.” The crinkled worry lines on her face relaxed. “Julia looked at a rental for me today. I may hear from her tonight.” I gave her hope.
We cleared the dishes. I hugged her goodnight and climbed the stairs to my old room. I opened a window to let in fresh air. She had left my room as it was the day I left for CU. A dry, brittle corsage was pinned to my sagging bulletin board. The ribbon hung in limp dusty streamers. I was ten years older than this room.
* * * *
At nine sharp, I called Clay Watkins.
“What can I do for you?” His distinctive voice boomed out of the radio speakers.
“I’ll be at work tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.” I paused. “The news director at NBC and I didn’t part on the best of terms…”
“I know.” Clay’s voice was louder. “Heard an earful from him.”
“I left under the terms of my contract. I changed networks and moved over five hundred miles.”
“Didn’t get the particulars from Andy. I know him, you know. Couple of us go drinkin’ every year at the convention.”
“I assumed you knew each other. The important thing is that you understand that I fulfilled my contract and I gave two weeks’ notice.”
“Tell you what’s important to me. You get here and do a helluva professional job for me and this station. And don’t be an asshole while you’re doin’ it. See you tomorrow.” The line went dead.
I tapped my phone off. I could work with that.
4
I drove into the wide-open spaces of Wyoming deciding to quit rehashing my old relationships. I wasn’t missing any of them. Or Andy either.
What I needed was a house.
I picked up the phone and called my go-to person. “Julia, did that guy call you back about the house?”
“Finally. I hope you’re gonna like this place. It’s a restored farmhouse ten miles north of Cheyenne. Probably bigger than you need, but it’s nice and it’s available. He’s offering a twelve-month lease and the price is good.” I sensed her excitement and pictured her flushed face and bright eyes.
“Great! Tell him I’ll take it. I’m excited about seeing you. I’ll call the movers now to give them my new address so they won't put my stuff in storage.”
“When are you getting here? I can meet you out at the place after four.”
“I should be in town by then. I don’t mind waiting at the house for you. Give me the directions again.”
“Head north on I-25. Take exit 233 for Horse Creek Road. It’s about nine miles from town. Turn right at the exit and then turn right again. Keep going until you see the first stone house on the right. You can’t miss it. See ya.”
A couple of hours later, I turned into the drive. A rural mailbox decorated with horseshoes sat sentinel at the entrance. Great. Yard art. The house was set at the end of a small well-kept green yard. I took the three steps up the broad porch. “Hello?” I called into the screen door. No answer. I peered into the dimly lit house. Nails scratched and clattered on the hardwood floors. I jumped back as the screen banged open. A big black and tan dog planted his feet in front of me, barking furiously. I backed cautiously down two steps, the dog matching me step by step. Behind me, I heard a male voice ask, “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, call your dog off.” I didn’t take my eyes off the madly barking animal.
“Chet! Come!” he commanded in a deep baritone.
Chet brushed past me and ran down the steps. Only when he was behind me did I turn around.
A tall man with longish dark hair and a good set of cheekbones looked mildly amused.
“Sit, Chet,” he said. “Good boy. You’re a good boy aren’t you?” He ruffled the head of the fawning dog. “May I help you? I’m Jake Spooner and that’s my porch you’re standing on.”
“Sawyer Cahill,” I said, extending my hand. The touch of his firm handshake sent a frisson of warmth up my arm. We stared at each other for a nanosecond too long. I loosened my hand. “Thanks for calling your dog off. I’ve rented a house out here somewhere. Supposedly, it’s the first stone house on Horse Creek Road. Obviously not. Sorry for the intrusion.”
“No problem.” He flashed a warm smile. “Yours would be the second stone house about a half mile from here on the right side. If you like, I can show you the way. I heard Sam had rented the place. Met him?”
“Not yet. I’ll take you up on the offer to lead the way. Thanks.”
Chet’s tail was thumping and he was wriggling his way closer to me. I showed him the flat of my palm. He sniffed, woofed his approval and sat on my foot.
“No problem.” This guy had some seriously gorgeous gray eyes. He stepped aside for me to join him. “Sam Jordan is the local vet. Where are you moving from?”
“San Antonio.”
Chet jumped in the back of Jake’s truck.
“I hope you’ll be happy here.”
“I will be. I grew up here.”
“Really? We might have met. I used to come up from Denver to spend the summers with my grandparents when I was a kid.”
His hand grazed my forearm when we walked to my Jeep. I wouldn’t have forgotten that face. “We moved away when I was twelve and I don’t think we’ve met.”
He flashed a great smile. “We’ll have time to get know each other. Is Sam meeting you at the house?”
“I don’t know. Julia’s meeting me.”
He opened the door of my Jeep. “Who’s Julia?”
“Julia Graham. My childhood friend.”
“I know them. I’ve done some business with her husband, Dave, at the bank. You’re lucky to get anything to rent in Cheyenne right now. Follow me down the drive and we’ll turn right.”
When I got into my car, I called Julia. “You there at the house?”
“Yeah, I just got here. Sam’s here too. You’ll see my blue Toyota from the road,” Julia said.
I followed Jake’s truck into the drive, parking my dusty black Jeep by Julia’s car. The house had a welcoming wrap-around front porch running across the front and down the east side.
“Welcome home.” Julia ran down the steps grabbing me in tight hug. “Jake, good to see you, too.” She looked at me quizzically.
“I found my way to Jake’s house and he was kind enough to lead me over.”
An older, heavyset man stepped through the front door. “Hi there, you ready for the tour?”
“Yes.” I extended my hand. “I’m Sawyer Cahill.”
He took my hand and it disappeared into his meaty paw. “Good to meet you. Julia has some fine things to say about you.” His eyes crinkled with his grin. “I hope you’ll like the place. I’m sure glad to have you renting it.”
He