See Jane Fall (25 page)

“Huh. Well, if it’s like
that
, son,
you’d best do something about it.”

“I guess I’d better at that.”

But that was the problem. He wanted to spend
time with Jane, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

Why was she so sad, and how could he help
make it better?

She was a different person around
Samara—that was for sure. He needed a way to spend time with her
away from her cousin. He wondered if he could convince Jane to stay
behind in Gardiner for the weekend while Samara headed to Jackson
Hole. His family would be in town. Half of his family already loved
Jane and he knew the rest would be just as welcoming to her. He’d
have to think about it, try to come up with an excuse good enough
to get her to consider staying.

Suddenly he frowned. And he’d have to be
sure Paul got out of the goddamned way. If Paul wasn’t clear that
there was something between him and Jane, it was time to be sure it
was crystal clear and no mistake.

Nils stood up from his seat, gesturing to
the round table in the front window where they often sat with
clients, planning adventures or tours.

“Guess we should get to it?”

They each took a seat at the table, ready to
hammer out the future of Lindstrom Elite.

CHAPTER 9

As Thursday wore on, Jane just kept reminding
herself,
Get through today; she’s gone tomorrow. Get through
today; she’s gone tomorrow.
They were at Old Faithful, and for
once it wasn’t Sara who was slowing down the shoot, it was Old
UN
Faithful, which hadn’t blown its top in over an hour.
Since wait times were anywhere from ninety minutes to two and a
half hours, it could still be a while before the jet of hot, steamy
water erupted into the sky again.

Sara sat in her trailer pouting, kept
company by Sebastian since Jane was keeping her distance. The sky
was clear and the sun was high, but the air around them was filled
with moisture from the geyser’s steam and there was no way Sara’s
hair and makeup would last through the heat of the late afternoon.
They had gotten a great set of two shots in the morning, but now
they all cooled their heels waiting. There were other geysers
nearby, but none of them had the awesome height and power of Old
Faithful, so they waited for the intense bubbling to begin, when
they would hurry Sara from her trailer over to the flat rocks in
front of the geyser for the second shoot.

Jane sat in a director’s chair next to Ray,
counting down the minutes until the shoot was over for today and
she could go back to her motel room and then to the Prairie Dawn
for euchre.

Ray turned to her, nudging her elbow to get
her attention.

“Honey, I have
got
to know where this
magical, stiff backbone came from, because you know your Ray-Ray
likes anything magical and stiff!”

Jane turned to Ray, who had lowered his
sunglasses to peek at her.

“I don’t know. I’m not going with her this
weekend. I guess everyone has a breaking point.”

“And yours shoulda been in Madrid when she
screamed BITCH at you loud enough to wake up the dead at three
o’clock in the am, drunk off her bony ass from too much Cava.”

“Nah. That was already months overdue,” she
said, remembering Cairo.

“Things gonna change when we get home,
Janie?”

“I think they’re gonna have to, Ray.”

“Now, I know you ain’t talking about leaving
us, because you would not break Ray Cartier’s tender heart,
honey.”

“That wouldn’t be my first choice…but Sara
may not have room for the new me.”

Ray put his sunglasses back on his head and
leaned back, sighing in the warmth of the sun. Jane looked toward
the parking area and saw Lars leaning against his truck, like an
actor out of a western movie, impossibly masculine with his cowboy
boots, jeans, polo shirt and cowboy hat. What a long, boring day
for him.

As much as she would have loved to spend the
day leaning against his truck next to him, and as much as her
spirits soared yesterday when he turned down Sara, she still didn’t
trust that they were out of the proverbial woods. She thought about
the conversation she had overheard this morning that made her hopes
take a significant dive.

She’d come up behind Sara and Lars sipping
coffee near the Kraft table, and unseen, eavesdropped on their
conversation.

“About that rain check…” she heard Sara
say.

Lars had looked at her quickly. “Hmm?”

“Tonight. Or better yet…tonight
and
this weekend. Know where I’m headed tomorrow?”

“Jackson Hole, right?”

“Mm-hm. But, I could use some company, Lars.
You. Me. At the Amangani. Infinity pool. Gorgeous dinners.
Amaaaaazing bed. Pick up where we left off yesterday? Hmmm?”

Jane’s heart was hammering.
Pick up where
we left off yesterday? What happened yesterday
? Jane had
assumed that Lars turning down a night with Sara was the extent of
their interaction, and her stomach rolled over uncomfortably at the
thought that they’d possibly gotten physical.

“Tempting,” he had murmured.

“Mmm. Speaking of that bed, I am a very
flexible girl. And
very
creative.”

“Hmm.”

“Promise.” Sara ran her fingers lightly up
and down Lars’s arm. “Say you’ll…
come
? I’ll make it worth
your while.” This last part was said in a sing-song voice as she
walked two fingers up his arm.

“I’ll, um…I’ll definitely consider it.”

“And tonight for that rain check. Eight
o’clock. My place.”

Jane couldn’t see his expression from
behind, but he didn’t confirm or refuse this offer verbally. He
just threw back the rest of his coffee then tipped his hat to her,
walking away.

Jane’s stomach had flip-flopped mercilessly,
making her feel nauseous. She didn’t know what to think—was he
going to Sara’s tonight or not? Was he going to Jackson Hole? Had
they fooled around yesterday?

Damned if she’d ask. She couldn’t. She
wouldn’t.

Jane had hesitated then stepped up beside
her cousin.

“That Lars walking away? How was last
night?”

“Rescheduled to tonight. Don’t worry about
me, Janie.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about you, snake.”

“Still mad at me. How boring.”

“Almost time for the first shoot, Sara.”

“God, I hate it when you call me that.”

“Get used to it. I’m not calling you
anything else anymore. I know who you are, Sara Mays.”

“Really can’t say I like your attitude on
this shoot, Jane. For God’s sake, have a funeral for the fucking
hat, and get it over with already.” Jane glanced at her cousin’s
face and was surprised to find some guilt there…or was it
shame?

Human emotion. Huh. Well, there’s a first
for everything.

“It was my Dad’s.”

“I know. God. You wore that thing to bed
every night for years.”

“You remember that?” Jane was surprised.
They rarely talked about their shared childhood. It was
uncomfortable to recall a time when they were—more or
less—equals.

“Of course I
remember
. I’m your
cousin
. We shared a room, dumb-ass.”

Jane looked at Sara and had a sudden
flashback to a night within the first month of moving in with the
Mayses. She had woken up in the middle of the night crying, as she
often did, arms outstretched, reaching for…for…her parents? Someone
to comfort her? Suddenly, Sara had pulled back the covers of Jane’s
bed, pressing her small body into Jane’s empty, aching, open arms.
Jane had clasped them around Sara, tears spilling into Sara’s black
hair in the darkness. Sara’s arms had encircled Jane, and the
cousins had fallen back to sleep without a word, face to face,
holding each other until morning.

After that night, Jane never woke up crying
with her arms outstretched again, and she felt grateful to Sara,
who had never acknowledged the incident, who even denied it years
later when Jane reminded her of it.
That never happened. You
were dreaming, Jane…
But, Jane hadn’t been dreaming. It was one
of the only times she ever remembered Sara showing her any real
tenderness after her parent’s death, and even now, more than ten
years later, it confused her.

Jane had reached into her back pocket and
rubbed the fuzzy, red B. “I still don’t understand why you did
it.”

“Christ, I said I was sorry. Can you
please
stop pouting?”

“No. It was a really, really shitty thing to
do. I can’t forgive you yet.”

“Well then…you know what? Fuck you, Jane.
Fuck you and your stupid, fucking hat. I’m not sorry anymore. I’m
glad. I’m GLAD I did it.” She’d chucked the rest of her coffee on
the ground in an angry splash then turned on her heel and stomped
away.

Ray sighed beside her in the sunshine,
adjusting his sunglasses, bringing Jane back to the present. He
gestured at the geyser with a hot-pink manicured finger. “When is
this thing going to blow its wad already?”

“Charming, Ray.”

“You know me, doll. Prince Charming. The
blacker, gayer version.”

Jane chuckled.

“Speaking of Prince Charming, how’s it going
with—” He gestured to Lars. “And what the heck are you doing here
with me when you should be talking to him? You know Miss Thing have
to have her a/c. You got that boy all to yourself for once.”

“It’s confusing.”

“Well, I don’t know why. He hasn’t jumped
into bed with her. Don’t barely go near her.”

“He’s supposed to go to her place tonight.
And…she asked him to go to Jackson Hole.”

“You ask me, you’re giving him a reason to
say yes.”

That stung. Jane hit Ray on the arm. “Be
nice.”

“
You
be nice. Ray-Ray just sittin’
here soakin’ up the sun and you hit him.”

“He didn’t say no.”

“What?”

“Samara asked Lars to go to Jackson Hole and
he didn’t say no.”

Ray turned to her and lowered his glasses
again. “Did he say
yes
?”

“He said he’d consider it.”

“Then you take my word, honey. He done said
no.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“Now, you know your Ray know a thing or two
about the boys, right?”

Jane cracked a grin, nodding.

“Then you go give that cowboy some honey,
Miss Janie Mays. Give him a reason
not
to go to Jackson
Hole.”

“But, what if I go talk to him, and he’s
wonderful, and I fall for him, and none of it matters…and he ends
up going with her, after all.”

Ray took a deep, long-suffering breath and
sighed loudly. “Now we gonna talk, honey. You ready to listen
up?

“One? You done already fell for him, girl.
You can deny it all you want, or avoid him all you want or whatever
other fucked-up little reindeer games you gonna play all you want,
but I know you fell for that cowboy and you know it too. So, we
just gonna be straight about this, and you know bein’
straight
with this here Ray-Ray is a rare goddamned thing,
so respect, okay?

“Two…you ain’t even
tried
for that
boy. You done thrown up your hands without even puttin’ up a little
struggle. You ain’t given him no chance to show you nothing. Just
sulk all around here convinced he gonna let you down. Well, seems
to me you’re
making sure
that he gonna let you down. You
want a chance? Then damn, girl, take one!

“And three…turn on your brains and look
around. If he
want
Miss Thing, where would he
be
right now?”

Jane smiled at him. There was no one in the
world like Ray Cartier and she adored him with all her heart.

“Her trailer?”

“Ding, ding, ding. Gold star for Miss Janie
Mays. Her trailer. And
where
is he?”

“Hanging out by his truck by himself.”

“She wins again! Now, honey, you go give him
some sugar. But first…” Ray took a tube of something out of his
back pocket, grabbed Jane’s chin and swiped it on her lips. “Mm-hm.
When you gonna let Ray-Ray do you a makeover?”

***

Lars had been watching Jane talk to Samara’s
makeup artist, trying to figure out how to approach her about this
weekend. More and more, he stayed on the periphery of the action.
The longer he spent with these modeling folks this week, the more
he felt like a fish out of water. As much as he appreciated the
chance his father and brother were giving him, the more he thought
about it—the waiting around, the difficult personalities, the
insane demands, the endless drama—the more he missed the simplicity
of taking good, normal folks out to discover and enjoy the park.
After years of wanting more responsibility, more to do, he was
getting what he wanted. He wished it felt organic to him. He wished
it felt like a better fit.

He thought about his favorite tour groups in
the past, all of which had included long hikes, phenomenal views,
coming across something special like a family of grizzlies or an
eagle’s nest. Normal, everyday people who had saved up money to see
something awesome at Yellowstone, and he helped make that dream
come true for them. So much of this particular job just felt
silly.

Somehow, Jane seemed like the only exception
to all of the nonsense that accompanied this group. Jane was
uncharacteristically straight shooting and down to earth for a city
girl working with a celebrity. But, she was so guarded, so damn
untrusting and complicated, he didn’t know what to do with her. If
she wouldn’t give him a chance to prove he wanted her, how was he
going to show her?

He flicked his glance to Samara’s trailer.
There was no way in hell he was going to Jackson Hole. After the
way Samara had spoken to that costume lady yesterday and the way
she had talked about Jane, she had lost a lot of her shine—not to
mention he wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to kiss her again and
lick her ashtray-flavored mouth. Plus, his extended family was
coming into town, and family was family: it trumped everything else
in the life of a Lindstrom and that was that. But, most
importantly, maybe, was that he wanted a real chance to reconnect
with Jane, and he was only going to get that chance while Samara
was out of town.