See Jane Fall (11 page)

“You like ’em?”

Wow, what a forward question.
“Umm.
Well, we’ve only just met, but you know, he seems really—”

“The
locations
. Not my brother.”

“Oh!” She felt her face flush with heat as
Maggie returned with her coffee.

“You teasin’ her, Nils?”

“Just asked what she thought of the
locations.”

“They’re–um, they’re great. Great choices.”
Why was she so flustered? She could feel the blood rush to her
cheeks.
Damn, Jane, get yourself together!

Nils nodded, but she saw the merry twinkle
in his eyes and suspected Lars would be hearing about this later.
Her face coloring bright red was as good as showing her cards. Paul
had noticed too.

“Hey, that stuff I said yesterday? About
Lars and the park girls? He and Erik used to carouse a lot when
they were younger, but he’s really not like that anymore. He’s my
best friend.” He glanced at Nils sheepishly. “Like a brother,
really. Some as good, but none better, Jane. Really.”

Jane composed herself quickly, smiling
gratefully at Paul. “Well, he’s very good at what he does, which is
what matters the most to me. He seems to know the park inside
out.”

“He’s always been like that. In there all
the time: winter, summer, rain, snow, didn’t matter, still doesn’t.
Lars and Yeller are like two halves of the same thing. Sometimes
you don’t know where the park ends and Lars begins.”

Jane heard the wistful, affectionate
undertones in Nils’s voice. “He seems very knowledgeable.”

“He is, but it’s more than that. Loves that
dang park better than anywhere or anything in the world. I guess
some folks would say that limits him. There’s so much of Yeller,
though, you could live a lifetime and never see it all.” He made a
bridge with the cards then slid them to Maggie who cut them. “But,
our
Midten
’ll die trying.”

“
Midten
?”

“Means
middle
,” Maggie now, smiling
askance at Nils who looked up at her and nodded in approval before
looking back down at his cards.

Jane caught Maggie’s eyes after they’d
lingered on Nils’s bent head and she was moved by what she saw
there: a frank, deep affection that went well beyond friends who
played cards together. Jane almost exhaled in a
whew
sound,
suddenly so aware of the humming current that she realized existed
between Nils and Maggie. Were they a couple? They must be, though
Jane saw no outward signs that they were anything more than
friends. Maybe they were just very conservative in their PDA,
because there was definitely something between them.

“Our
Mamma
was Norwegian,” said Nils
softly.

“Called her three boys
Største
,
Midten
and
Minste
. Biggest, middle, and littlest,”
said Maggie.

“Not that Erik much appreciated being called
Minste
,” said Nils, grinning up at Maggie again like she was
the only girl in the whole room, the whole universe.

“Seems to be just fine with it now,” Paul
observed.

Maggie turned from Nils and smiled at Jane.
“His bonnie wife Kat calls him
Minste
, and no complaints.
And now, enough talk. More euchre.”

“And Miss Mystic,” teased Jane.

Paul grinned at Jane as Nils finished
dealing, but it was a half smile, wary.

“So, I’m dying to know! Are you going for a
visit?” she asked, referring to their conversation last night.

“I bought a ticket.”

“Does she know yet?”

“She knows.” A shadow passed over his face
and he lowered his gaze. “I’m just not sure she loves the
idea.”

“Oh…well, I’m sure she will. Give her time
to get used to the idea. Sometimes we have to protect our hearts,
you know. Move forward with caution.” Jane smiled at him, wondering
if her words were intended for Paul or herself, hoping no one at
the table had caught the transparency of her own feelings as she
doled out advice to someone else.

“You know?” said Paul, brightening. “I think
you’re a good luck charm, Jane…or maybe you’re just very, very
wise.”

Jane tried to pay attention as they
explained to her how to play, but her mind was circling around
Paul’s words.

Very wise?
Not so much.

A wise woman wouldn’t have let Lars kiss her
today.

A wise woman wouldn’t be going out on a date
with him tomorrow night.

Because, let’s face it, a wise woman
wouldn’t set herself up for such a big fall.

CHAPTER 4

With Samara’s cottage ready for her and the
shoot locations confirmed, Jane didn’t feel any pressure to jump
out of bed the next morning. As the sun poured in through the
curtained window of her motel room, she lay in bed, checking her
phone, which had been quiet throughout the night, except for some
“boob” pictures Samara had texted to her. One of Samara’s favorite
things was to occasionally send Jane pictures of her cleavage—and
sometimes bare breasts—taken when she was drunk in an attempt to
shock her cousin. Jane rolled her eyes, hitting erase, erase,
erase.
Must have been quite a party last night.

Jane sent herself a reminder to call
Sebastian in a few hours and make sure Samara didn’t send the
photos to anyone else…and was in shape for traveling tomorrow.

Then she pulled the comforter over her head
and went back to sleep.

The insistent buzzing of her phone rattling
on the bedside table woke her up two hours later at ten o’clock.
She fumbled for the phone, pressing the green answer button and put
the phone to her ear, answering groggily.

“Hello?”

“JANE!”

“Sara?”

“Who is that
delicious
piece of ass
in the pics you sent me yesterday?”

Jane’s eyes popped open, and her heart
started racing
. No. No!
I copied those photos and put
them in a separate file!
She sat up, swinging her legs over the
bed.

“I don’t…” She raced to the table, opened
her laptop and clicked on her e-mail program. She scrolled through
the pictures, and her heart dropped when she saw the two re-titled
pictures of Lars included at the end of the location shots. Her
shoulders caved in, and she sat down in the closest chair. Even
though she put copies in the separate folder, she’d forgotten to
delete the originals from the master file she’d sent to her
cousin.

“Who is he, Janie?” Samara was using the
sing-song coquette voice that she used to get what she wanted.

“Local tour operator.”

“He’s hot.”

“Hmm.”

“Scalding.”

“Well…”

“Well nothing. Might be a spot for him in my
shoot…if he’s nice to me.”

Jane shut her eyes tightly, holding her
breath.

“Definitely a spot for him in my bed, if you
know what I mean.”

Yeah, I know what you mean
. Jane was
silent.

“Samara wants.”

Jane lowered the phone, holding it in her
lap, clenching her jaw until it actually ached. She could hear
Samara still making her insane demands, even with the phone two
feet from her ear. “…Jane? Jane! Did you hear me? I want him. Make
it happen!”

You
make it happen. I’m not your
pimp
. Jane ignored her cousin, putting the phone back up to her
ear. “Samara, you sent me boob pics last night.”

“Yeah, so? I can do what I want.”

“Just making sure…you didn’t send them to
anyone else, did you?”

“I’m not
stupid
, Jane. I know I’m a
public figure. When I want to send boob pics, I only send them to
you, so they’re going to nobody.”

How nice.
She bit her lip remembering
Lars’s words on the drive to Gardiner from the airport when they
first met.
Means you’re somebody, I guess.
Her heart twisted
thinking of him.

“Sebastian’s picking you up in the morning,
Sara. You’re—”

“
SAMARA
, Jane.”

“Of course,
Samara
. You’re going to
be ready at eight, right? Do you want me to call you to wake
you—?”

“I hate traveling with Sebastian,” she
pouted. “He’s so annoying.”

“Well, Ray will be with you too.”

“Whatever. Ray hates me. Gay Ray. He’s
your
friend.”

Ray Cartier was
only
Samara’s make-up
artist because he was the best, which was the
only
reason
Samara put up with his subtle digs. Jane adored Ray.

“I want my Laney,” she whined. “The rest of
you are no fun. This sucks.”

“Your whole team wants the best for you. I’m
sure Laney will be better by the time you get home.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Jane. I
want the cowboy.”

“Do you what you want, Samara.”
You
always do.

“Jaaaanie…I
know
you didn’t mean to
send me those pictures. They were re-titled. ‘Lars’ and ‘Lars
Smiles.’ I
know
you, Jane. I know your type and he’s it. I’m
sure you’ve been making an ass out of yourself following him
around.” She paused, chuckling lightly. “But we both know…Sun’s
coming out tomorrow, Plain Jane. You know what they say about the
sun.”

Ben’s words returned to Jane, and she
winced.
I’m blinded to anything but the sun…

“Travel safe, Samara. See you tomorrow.” She
managed to whisper the words before pressing the red end button on
her phone. She threw it across the room and watched it bounce twice
on the bed before clunking onto the carpeted floor. She curled up
in the chair where she was sitting next to her laptop, feeling the
heaviness, the oppressive dread, return.

Tomorrow he will belong to her.

Her stomach was empty, but the thought of
Lars with Samara made her stomach muscles contract and she retched
bile into her mouth.

I’ll quit
, she thought frantically,
wincing as she swallowed back the acid.
I’ll call her back and
quit and tell her to shove this crap job up her million-dollar ass.
I’ll catch the next flight out of here. I’ll go back to San
Francisco and take pictures. I’ll… I’ll…

And where will you go for Christmas,
Jane? For Thanksgiving? Who will walk you down the aisle one
day?
The old, familiar voice whispered the old, familiar
questions, stopping her thoughts cold.
You don’t know a soul in
San Francisco. You haven’t kept up with your college friends in
Boston. Who will you have in your life? Ray? Sebastian? They’re all
in Samara’s pocket. They’ll turn their backs on you the moment you
walk. Face it. You have no one. You’ll be alone, Jane. Utterly and
completely alone.

You’re not. Going. Anywhere.

Her eyes filled with tears at the unfairness
of it, and she brushed them away. She had seen Lars first. He had
liked her first. He had kissed her first.

She took a shaky breath, running her fingers
through her springy curls, picturing his face in her mind, his hand
laced through hers, his lips slanting across hers. After tonight,
she would lose him.

After
tonight.
After.

“Not yet, Sara,” she whispered raggedly.
“You can’t have him until tomorrow.”

***

Lars had recently heard chatter about a mama
grizzly and her two cubs getting a little close to the road near
the north part of Lower Hayden where the Lindstroms often took
their groups on day hikes, and he wanted to be sure he steered
clear of her territory with hikers. But he also considered that
knowing her routes would give him an opportunity to find viewing
points for watching her. People would pay insane amounts of money
to see a grizzly in her natural habitat, so he headed out on Monday
morning to take a look around.

Unlike most days, when he was keenly aware
of the park around him, he was distracted today during the long
hours of solo hiking, looking for tracks and scat. He couldn’t
remember the last time he felt so much anticipation looking forward
to a date. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he went out
on a conventional date.

When Erik still lived in Gardiner, they
would go out on impromptu double dates with women just in town
visiting the park—generally set up by Erik—and every other night
felt like a party with the “Park Girls.” That’s what Lars and his
brothers called the women who came to Yellowstone on vacation
looking for a little something extra to spice up their adventure
vacation. Women on tours, groups of friends coming to hike and
sightsee, even women like Jane who came for work. They’d have the
Park Girls back to their apartment or hang out at their hotel. The
summer months were a seemingly endless parade of available women.
He and Erik had pursued these short-lived flings like playboys, and
enjoyed every minute drinking beers and bed-hopping with pretty
girls.

But Erik had headed up to Great Falls for
college about three years ago and married Katrin last fall. Nils
was in love with Maggie but wouldn’t do anything about it, he was
so busy working and sucking up to their father. Paul had been crazy
about his sister Jenny for years so he never did much carousing
anyway, but lately he was on his laptop all the time talking to
some chick in Connecticut; besides, he was the principal at the
high school—bars and girls weren’t his thing. Surrounded by friends
and family who had all at once decided to grow up, Lars was
starting to feel his age too, and when he thought of his three
small nieces, he had to admit the idea of settling down and having
one of his own had appeal.

The problem with settling down, though, was
two-fold. First, he couldn’t think of any girls who lived in
Gardiner who were potential marriage material. The permanent
population of the entire town was only 720 people, and Lars knew
every one of them. The single, eligible, legal-aged women could
practically be counted on one hand, with Maggie leading the pack.
But Maggie and Nils were just a matter of time, and Lars didn’t see
Maggie like that anyway. There was Ms. Phillips, the church
secretary at Grace Church, but she had to be in her mid-forties,
and she was always talking about her shingles, which, frankly,
grossed Lars out. There used to be Tessie at the Blue Moon, but
even Tess had found someone and moved away to Billings. And sure,
there were a few other girls in Gardiner who he knew and a few
divorcees, who were always on the lookout for their next “Mr.,” but
none of them exactly got his heart beating faster; none of them was
the next Mrs. Lindstrom.