According to Neil, I’d been wrong. Clay saw me that afternoon. He’d said . . . That’s my . . .
I don’t need this shit. Not now. Not ever. Gritting my teeth, I emptied my head and managed to stay silent and in place until the chaplain was finished. It was one of the hardest things I’d done.
As the chaplain passed me, he offered yet another small smile. “Peace be with you, son.”
“Peace has never been a big fan of mine. Or me of it.” My words weren’t meant to be argumentative but informative. Peace and I resided on opposite sides of the universe.
“But like you said, your father’s death has given you a new freedom. Freedom to be and do whatever you like.” The chaplain patted my shoulder before heading toward the trail. “Give peace a try. I can guarantee it’s not as overrated as you might believe.”
“Says the man who says good-bye with peace be with you,” I muttered. The chaplain was out of hearing range, but Josie’s elbow in my ribs confirmed she hadn’t missed it. “And what are you doing here, by the way? I thought you had wannabe cowboys to date, and mean ones who picked fights in bars to avoid.”
“I’m paying my respects,” she replied, refusing to make eye contact.
I huffed. “You hated Clay almost as much as I did.”
“I’m not paying my respects to him.” Turning toward me, her gaze shifted from the whiskey cap on top of the rock to me. I’d told myself hundreds of times, possibly thousands, that I needed to avoid looking into Josie’s eyes at all costs. Every single time she did what she was doing then—staring at me, waiting for me to stare back—I forgot all of my warnings and broke my golden rule: stay away from Josie Gibson. “I’m here to pay my respects to you.”
My eyebrows came together and, before I could figure out what she’d said and what I should say, she threw her arms around me, gave me a quick squeeze, and hurried back up the trail. But not before kicking off her heels to run up it barefoot.
Jesse came up behind me. “What was that?”
“Women are mysterious creatures bound to make a man crazy if he spends too much time trying to decode their every move.”
“Amen.” Jesse chuckled. An exaggerated clearing of a certain young woman’s throat stopped his laugh mid-stream. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about at all.”
“Having you gone so much this year, I almost forgot what a little girl you’ve become.” Spinning around, I patted his cheek. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.” Jesse shoved my chest lightly then tilted his chin down the river. “Wanna talk?”
Jesse had been trying to talk to me for the past few days, but I’d done one of the few things I did best and avoided him. Not because I was avoiding him per say, but because I wanted to avoid anything to do with talking about Clay, what happened, and the all-important what now? The first two subjects I could navigate if need be. The last one, though—the what now?—I didn’t have a f**king clue where to start. So I’d been avoiding, ignoring, and pretty much hiding from Jess.
“Not even remotely,” I answered him, nodding my acknowledgement as the Walker family passed me, heading back up the trail. Truthfully, I was touched they’d come, but hell if I could find the words to tell them so.
“Too bad.” Jesse kissed Rowen, whispered something to her, and shouldered past me to head down the river. I knew where he was going. We used to go down there and skip rocks as kids. As we got older, Jesse came down to fish during the day, and I brought my girl-of-the-hour down at night. Our favorite rock-skipping spot was a couple hundred yards upstream.
“You’re going to be waiting a while, Walker!” I hollered after him.
He kept walking. “See you in a minute then.”
“He is a serious pain in my ass,” I said as Rowen came up beside me.
“Aren’t you two peas in a pod then?” She watched Jesse until he disappeared before angling toward me. “I’m not going to ask how you’re doing, and I’m not going to ask if there’s anything I could do. I know those are the last questions you want to answer right now, and even if you did answer, your answers wouldn’t be honest, so I’ll just skip all the standard protocol if that’s okay with you.”
I smirked at her. “You are a fine woman, Rowen Sterling.”
She promptly returned my smirk. “Flattery gets you nowhere with me.”
I hitched my thumbs under my belt buckle. “And flattery gets you everywhere with me.”
Her mouth opened like whatever she wanted to say was on the tip of her tongue, but she clamped it shut, inhaled, and waited a few seconds. “You know, Garth, if you want to take some time off and get away for a while, Jesse and I’d be happy to have you at our place. It’s not much bigger than the cab of your truck, but the couch is yours whenever you need it. Seattle might not be your ideal scene, but there are plenty of bars chock full of women who’d jump at the chance to have a real life cowboy show them ‘the ropes.’”
Ah, hell. That was exactly what I didn’t want—people treating me differently because my daddy had burned to death. Everyone tiptoeing around me because who knew when I’d lose it. That Rowen was doing it—the one I was sure would be the last one to treat me like a walking time bomb—was a sobering reality.
“No fair. You didn’t warn me that the pity patrol were coming to town.” I wagged my index finger and tried to act like Rowen’s transformation into sympathetic when it came to me, was anything but staggering.