And I’d like a life, Tom thought. I’d like a chance to start over even though I waited too long. He admitted it was his fault. He’d been naive and because he always loved Becky so much, he stayed in denial about the fact that she had moved on. She was no help, coming back again and again, sleeping in their marriage bed, giving the pretense that she was still at least partly into the marriage.
Yes, he had foolishly hoped...
But it had been almost a year since that last arrest and he was cured of all naïveté. He’d finished the grief and torment and feelings of betrayal, and all he wanted now was to have a normal life. If he could just remember what that was.
* * *
Lola fed her sons, eighteen-year-old Cole and sixteen-year-old Trace at the diner. Some nights she left them dinner, some nights they went to their grandparents’ house, some nights they went out with their dad, Dave, from whom she’d been divorced for ten years. She and Dave got along fine as long as they spent very little time together. Dave was on wife number four and, by now, her sons were done with all the steps and halves. Once every couple of weeks, maybe, Dave would take them out for pizza or a burger and that was about it. He never was any good with support payments but sometimes she could guilt him into buying something the boys needed, like gear for school sports. He was basically a good-natured deadbeat dad and serial marrier—someone she’d never been able to count on.
It was Friday night and prom was coming up—Cole was going with his girlfriend, Jen. Jen was on the prom committee and it was a big deal. Cole worked part-time for the grocer down the street, Trace worked part-time at the grill, mostly busing and cleanup. They were letting him take orders now and then, but he couldn’t serve alcohol. He was too young. The boys had good, hard jobs that helped Lola in convincing them to continue their educations so they wouldn’t be unpacking vegetables and washing dishes for life.
Just as she was doing for herself, finally getting her degree. She’d worked in nearly every small business around Timberlake and a couple in Leadville since she was sixteen and she hoped to remain in the area as a teacher, even though those jobs were hard to come by. Elementary school was her first choice.
The most important thing to Lola was that she liked her life as a single woman. Ten years postdivorce, she was settled. She was very busy, had plenty of friends, her mom and dad were close by and in good health, her little house was comfortable and easy to take care of and, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing missing.
It was true there was no man in her life. She’d had a few dates over the years, and they were only dates. She’d gone skiing with a recently divorced dentist and they’d had a good time; but there were no sparks. One of her professors took her out a few times; he was considerably older and the relationship had not progressed, which was just as she’d have it. She’d gone out with a firefighter or two but it had been friendly and casual and they still saw each other around town. She was not looking for a lover, didn’t really need another friend.
Lola was confident, energetic, funny and smart—she knew this about herself. What she wasn’t was pretty. She was overweight, her massive, curly black hair was beginning to thread with gray though she was barely forty and, even though she got enough sleep, she had dark circles under her eyes. She’d never quite figured out how to shape her brows right and she wasn’t good with her crazy hair so she kept it short. Short and shapeless but for the loose curls. She only bothered with makeup for special occasions—namely the dentist, the professor and two firefighters.
But she wouldn’t mind having a male friend, someone she was really comfortable with. She didn’t care about falling in love and had absolutely no illusions about a second marriage. The last time she was in love was Dave, and that had been a disaster. But a kind guy to hang out with, a companion—that would be nice. In fact the one man who intrigued her was Tom Canaday. Unfortunately he was clearly still very screwed up about his divorce and if there was anything Lola wanted less than a man it was a man’s baggage.
But what she loved about Tom was that he never complained. His ex-wife had left him with four kids to raise on his own and he shouldered the responsibility, took it on and got it done, was a great parent, remained positive and happy as though he, too, liked his life. She wondered if it was true, what they said, that he’d never really accepted the divorce, that his incredibly beautiful ex-wife still paid regular conjugal visits. Because if that were true, then they had nothing in common, after all.
If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn’t lead anywhere.
—Frank A. Clark
Chapter 6
“WAIT UNTIL YOU see this,” Sierra told Cal proudly. “Molly, sit!”
Molly sat.
“Amazing,” Cal said. “Is she ready for the circus?”
“Shut up. This dog is in recovery. She needs patience and affection and lots of positive reinforcement.”
“What has she chewed up lately?”
“She’s had a good week,” Sully said. “She only chewed up a pair of leather rappelling gloves that were hanging on the bottom hook over there by the door and a pair of my socks that were sticking out of my shoes on the back porch. Oh, and she got a paperback but it was ready for the recycle anyway. That’s all we know of. If we x-ray her, we might find a ton of stuff.”
“So, Sierra has a new toy,” Cal said with a grin.
Sierra didn’t care one bit if they made fun of her as long as they were very sweet to Molly. Everyone treated Molly like a precious gift and it was obvious in the dog’s behavior that she’d never experienced anything like it before. She was a lovable pest. She leaned against people for a pat, brought people gifts—usually one of her toys but sometimes something she’d stolen—laid her head in their laps and sometimes just sat in front of someone, anyone, and barked until they gave her some attention.
Sierra had a new friend and she thought her adorable. That first week she’d been in a panic that Molly might wander off and get lost, but as it turned out there were two secret weapons at her disposal. First, as Sully pointed out, Molly had that special dog’s nose and could find her way back to the campground as long as she hadn’t gotten too far away. And second, Beau was only too happy to go get her and bring her back.
Beau was doing as much to train Molly as everyone else. And Molly might be a little bit in love because she hung close to the Lab.
When Conrad showed up on the weekend, Sierra knew word had traveled far and wide.
“So, this the mutt you wrestled for?”
“You watch your mouth!” Sierra said. “I don’t think there’s anything but golden in her! Do not offend her or she won’t like you. She has shown excellent taste so far!”
Connie clicked his teeth, dangled his hand at his side and Molly wagged her tail enthusiastically and went right to him, nudging his hand for a pet.
“She might have a little slut in her,” Sierra muttered.
“The best of us do,” Connie said, crouching to give the dog a serious scratch.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“I guess she’s kind of good-looking,” Connie said.
“She’s my first dog,” Sierra confessed.
“Seriously? You didn’t have dogs growing up?”
“There were dogs on the farm, but they were outside dogs, barn dogs, not dogs that slept on the bed. My grandma would have chased them out with a broom if they got in the house. My brother Dakota kind of claimed one of them and that dog followed him everywhere. It was all we could do to keep him off the school bus.”
As she recalled, those times they landed back at the farm when she was very young, they lived in the bus. Her grandparents had a small farmhouse and couldn’t really take on six extra people, so through spring, summer and fall, they continued to sleep in the bus, but would eat their meals and shower and use the facilities in the house. In winter they all crammed in the house together. When she was eight and Cal was sixteen, they took up permanent residence at the farm because Grandpa had passed. Space was found, though not much more than they’d had before.
Sierra went to get Molly’s leash off the hook in the back of the store. When Molly saw it, she got all excited, the only dog in the history of the world who was free most of the time and got excited by the leash. But she was smart and she knew it meant she was going somewhere. Beau ran to Sierra’s side immediately; he liked to go along, but Beau didn’t need a leash. “Would you like to join us?” she asked Connie.
“I’ll just hang out with Sully for a while,” he said. “You and your little friends have fun.”
“We certainly will,” she said, heading across the yard for one of the trails.
* * *
Connie went into the store and found Sully stocking shelves. “Need a hand?” he asked.
“I got it,” Sully said. “Grab a cup of coffee.”
“Holler when you’re ready for boxes from the storeroom. You know I like to show off my big muscles.”
“Just seen you show off the one between your ears, son,” he said. “Besides, there don’t seem to be any pretty young women around at the moment.”
“I’ll just practice, then.”
Connie positioned himself at the lunch counter where he could visit with Enid and be handy when Sully started toting big boxes of supplies out of the back storeroom.
Conrad Boyle was thirty-three and had grown up in and around Timberlake. For a while his family lived in Leadville when they’d found a good rental house there. Then they moved back to Timberlake when Connie was in first grade and his mom and dad had divorced. When his mom remarried, they’d stayed in that house and his stepfather moved in with them.
Connie wouldn’t call his growing up years hard, but they were at least inconvenient and at times very difficult. First off, his father and then his stepfather had both been brutish, angry men while his mother was a kind, hardworking, even-tempered woman. To this day, Connie didn’t understand why his mother couldn’t find better men to marry. And if she couldn’t, then why didn’t she just live as a single woman?