Page 66 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man

“We’ve got a place for you in bunkhouse four,” he told Xander. “You can move in there as soon as Dalton moves his stuff to bunkhouse six. For now, I’ll introduce you to Dillon and Cameron, your new housemates. You’ll like them. They’re about your age.”

Dalton looked slightly dazed, but he didn’t argue. They might have been on the verge of a fight, but they were friends of long standing, so when Lucas came close and hugged Dalton around his shoulders, Dalton leaned into the embrace, and the tension in the air relaxed.

“It’ll all work out,” Lucas told him. “You’ve got an audit to finish, and I’ll pay you instead of you doing it for free.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“I’ll pay you what I can,” Lucas said. “And room and board while you figure everything out. For now, I’ll take Xander to meet Beau.” He gestured to Xander. “C’mon, then. Beau coordinates things for you teens. Let’s get this party started.”

As all this was going on, I felt more and more like a third wheel. Except in response to Lucas’ beckoning, Xander looked at me.

I nodded at him. I wanted to tell him it was safe to stay. That in a place like this, he didn’t need to keep watch and didn’t need to look for a chance to run away. He could leave at any time if he wanted, but the better option was to remain.

I’d been moved so many times in my lifetime. I’d never really seen it from this vantage point before. Always I’d been the one on the inside, nerves twitching, shoulders braced for the fallout that was sure to come. Carrying the nearly empty garbage bag. Or carrying a box full of Christmas toys that some charity had dropped off, only to discover the items were for a kid much younger. Or the family I was with took the gifts meant for me and gave them to their own.

Now I saw it like I was standing on a mountain, looking out over a vast landscape. My heart went out to him, this new boy who had no idea what was coming his way—who had no reason to believe it was good, all good, and could stay that way from here on out. And still he was walking right into it, brave as anything.

Dalton had just taken a step, like he was about to follow Lucas and become a part of the bustle of moving out and moving in.

I reached for his forearm and caught it. He didn’t need to be part of this with Xander; it was better for the boy to be surrounded by others whose experiences were more akin to his. And besides, I had something I needed to say.

“This is my fault,” I told Dalton, low. “I wanted you to stay on the ranch, but not like this.”

“What makes you think I’m staying?” His expression was like stone, and his eyes looked very dark. No longer a summer sunrise. No longer welcoming me with a sweet smile. “Maybe after I finish the audit, I’ll leave.”

The wind, that sweet warm breeze coming off the pine trees and smelling like spice, turned into an arctic cold front. And I froze. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. All the things we shared, that we’d experienced together, hung in my mind, the smooth edges blending, each moment turning jagged.

“You’ll get another job in the city, then,” I said, like it was a foregone conclusion. The empty future that I’d been dreading was not just approaching. It was there, right in front of me, and I’d best acknowledge it.

“Maybe,” he said, the single word curt. Cut off. “Or maybe I’ll go to that property in Scottsbluff. Prime the pump, like you said. Raise hay. Cattle.”

I’d never been anywhere but Colorado. Never been anywhere but Denver and Snow Creek Ranch.

I’d seen pictures of Scottsbluff: wide, empty, lion-colored land that pushed up into bluffs and buttes, staunch soldiers against flat blue sky. The wind blew there all the time, I’d heard. The winters were hard.

Well, winters were hard everywhere. Dalton would manage. He was tough. But if he went out that way, he’d be alone. My heart didn’t want that.

“I’d go with you.” As soon as the words were out, I was short of breath, as if I’d run a very long way and still hadn’t finished the race. Did I mean it? My mind spun around, trying to determine exactly what I did mean. In the end, I had to tell the truth. “But I’d prefer to stay here under the stars that I know.”

He looked at me, silent and still.

We were stuck. I couldn’t make him stay. I couldn’t make himwantto stay with me. I didn’t have much to offer him, so I couldn’t do anything except look at him as he rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand. Watch perspiration slide from his temple down his cheek.

We were in the middle of a clearing. The sun was still hot overhead, and in spite of my heart being in a deep freeze, I was warm. Too warm. Neither one of us had a hat to shield us, to catch a cooling breeze.

I thought about urging him into the barn, but there were too many memories there. We’d left them behind us everywhere. In the barn. In the dining hall. In my bunkhouse. On the hillside. Along Snow Creek, beyond the guest cabins.

“There’s a short bridge this way,” I said. “Over Snow Creek. Stones to sit on. And shade.”

I wanted that expression on his face to be banished. I wanted him to be happy, and if that meant he was far away from me, so be it. The peace in his heart came before everything, even my own peace.

The kids were causing a ruckus, laughing in bunkhouse four. Lucas was walking toward the staff building. So it was just Dalton and me who knew where we went. Along the dirt road to the creek. To the bridge that was made of wood and looked to be a hundred years old.

It was in the shade, as was the bank. Dampness had soaked up from the creek into the bank, making it a little muddy. But there were stones beneath the mix of pine trees and young cottonwoods. Spicy-scented river willows grew in a line of sage green, pale yellow, white, like flags above the slow-flowing creek.

Dalton followed me like a zombie who didn’t quite know where he was. He’d been pretty quiet on the drive from Denver, but now he was more closed off than I’d ever seen him. Than I ever wanted to see him.

“There.” I pointed. “That’s a good one.”