Page 119 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
“So you were a Faraday but Everett was a Carlson even though he wasn’t your dad’s biological son?”
“That’s right. Nell forced Everett to change his last name when she married Dad. She wanted everyone in the house to share the same last name. Everett hated it until he got to college but then I guess he decided it wasn’t so bad. He’d toss Dad’s name around like candy at a parade. I don’t know if it made a difference for Everett or not, but I didn’t want any special favors from professors or the administration. So I became Hunter Faraday.”
I liked Hunter’s pride and that he had wanted to succeed on his own accomplishments. I doubted his teachers would have played favorites but it was admirable that he’d cared enough to succeed on his own merit.
“Where did you go to college?” I asked.
“Northwestern. Med school there too.”
An image popped into my mind of a younger Hunter walking around campus. I bet the girls had been all over the aspiring doctor with the sexy hair. My smile dropped at the mental image of another woman’s hands tugging on his strands. Hunter and I hadn’t had the past-lover conversation because that was one area where I was one hundred percent not curious.
“Anything else?” he asked.
I was out of questions for now. “Um, no. Bye.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “Bye.”
I hung up my phone and set it on the lobby counter. He sounded sad and lonely. Should I call him back? Maybe invite him for dinner? What had he even been eating lately? Was he cooking for himself or just making peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches?
Though I disliked the thought of him surviving on takeout and PB&Js, I didn’t lift my phone off the counter.
As much as I missed Hunter, I wasn’t ready to take him back.
I was still too angry and disappointed.
Every time I thought about him coming to my maternity ward and not warning me about Nell’s obsession, I saw red. When I pictured Hunter living in Prescott for a year, working at the hospital with my friends without introducing himself, my hands balled into fists. When I thought back to all the nights he’d made love to me and curled me into his arms for sleep, the bitter taste of betrayal filled my mouth.
I couldn’t let Hunter back into my heart until those feelings were gone, which was the reason for my Q&A phone calls instead of talking to him in person.
I loved Hunter. I missed Hunter. But he had hurt me, and now, I was keeping him at arm’s length.
Once again, The Bitterroot Inn had become my savior from the emotional turbulence in my life. I’d spent the last month back in my pre-Hunter routine, busting my butt to finish out tourist season.
Looking over at my reservation book, I flipped through to the weekend’s pages. For the first time in months, there were a couple of empty rooms. Summer was on its way out and fall was moving in. Vacationers were back to work, kids were back in school, and I was enjoying the early September lull in motel activity.
Hunting season would start soon and reservations would peak again, but until then, I had a couple of weeks to enjoy a marginally slower pace. I could meet Milo for our weekly gossip coffee. I could have long phone calls with Gigi in the evenings. I could take lunch breaks with Hunter.
Except, I wasn’t seeing Hunter.
Would my resentment go away faster if we spent more time together? Would I ever find the trust I was missing? Maybe. I sighed and leaned against the counter, propping my chin in my hand. My conviction to keep some distance was waning.
“What do you think, Pickle?”
My growing puppy looked up from the rawhide he was chewing at my feet. His big brown eyes blinked once before he went back to his treat.
“You’re no help.”
Without thinking it through, I picked up my phone.
Hunter answered on the first ring. “Hi.”
“I’m going to the football game tonight. It’s the first one of the season and always pretty fun. If you’re going to the game, you’re welcome to sit with us. I know Coby would really like that.”
“What about you? Would you like that?”
I nodded.
“I can’t see you, Blondie. Are you nodding?”
