Page 19

Nineteen

Stephanie

“Let the boys take care of him.”

Alex drapes an arm around Ama’s shoulders and steers her down the hill, leading the way back to the ranch house. Janey hooks her arm through mine and we follow behind, with Pippa, her sister Nella, and Sloane herding the kids, while Jillian and Lucy bring up the rear, moving along any stragglers.

Part of me revolts at the gender-based division, but at the same time it feels right for Thomas to be looked after by “his boys.” If anything, it’s a show of respect to the end of a more traditional generation. Times may have changed, and we may have evolved beyond the gender bounds, but this farewell is not about us, it’s about Thomas, and the last respects paid to him.

The ceremony was a simple one with little fanfare, and just a few brief graveside blessings by a Baptist minister, who left right before us. Thomas wasn’t a churchgoer anymore, but he was apparently raised Baptist and met his wife at a church event seventy years ago.

I got a little teary-eyed as Jonas recounted his parents’ love story at the graveside, but couldn’t hold back the sob when he stated his pops was back where he belonged, in his mother’s arms.

The man was loved, no doubt about that. I can only hope when my time comes, I’ll have earned even just a fraction of the love and respect he was shown today. But I doubt my family would show me any—they haven’t cared enough to in life—and I only have a scant handful of people I can call friends. If I went today, I know Jackson would mourn me, Janey would, and maybe a few others would be sad, but there wouldn’t be many who’d even notice me gone.

If I’m honest with myself, I have to admit I haven’t made enough of an impression on people’s lives. Sure, I’ve helped take bad guys off the street, but most of what I do is anonymous to those whose lives it would have impacted. I live and breathe my work, a lot of which is working under the radar, and I’ve been hiding there. I’m good at what I do, but I’m not so sure anymore it’s what I want to spend my life doing.

“You’re quiet,” Janey observes, giving my arm a squeeze. “Are you all right?”

I nod and dart her a quick smile. “Yeah, just contemplating life and future, that’s all.”

She barks out a laugh as we climb up the porch steps.

“Is that all?” she teases before continuing on a more serious note, “Funerals have a tendency to encourage soul-searching, don’t they?”

“I’d already been doing the soul-searching, but I’m starting to draw some conclusions.”

“Oh?” She raises her eyebrows as she shoots me a look.

“I think I’m going to quit my job.”

The thought never fully formed until the words are already spilling from my mouth, but the relief I feel is instant. I know in my heart it’s the right thing to do. It feels like severing the ties on a toxic relationship, which is in essence what I’m doing.

I joined the Bureau to prove myself worthy to my family—to my father—but I think it’s safe to say that’ll never happen. Sad that it took me almost a decade and a half to realize that. Then I made a major mistake when I stumbled into a relationship with Vallard, a fellow agent, and have spent the years since trying to prove myself better than that lapse in judgment.

I’ve been spinning my wheels trying to be the person I think others want me to be, and I’m realizing I’ll never get there. Nor should I have to.

For most of my adult life my work has defined me, I thought that’s who I was. But if I’ve learned anything since coming here, it’s that the person behind that badge holds value by merit of who she is, not what she does. Jackson has shown me that, so have Janey and JD, and all the others who have welcomed and included me because of who I am, not what I do.

“You’re quitting your job?” Alex, who walked into the house ahead of us, turns around and asks.

I can feel a number of surprised eyes on me and suddenly feel put on the spot, even though I put myself there. I blurted it out without considering the consequences. Or the fact I probably should’ve talked to Jackson before anyone else. It’s a pretty big life decision that impacts my future, and I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where those things should be discussed.

Still, the cat is out of the bag now.

“Yeah…I think so.”

“That’s a big step,” Alex points out with a serious expression on her face. As Jackson’s mother, I can see why she might be concerned. “What will come next?”

I guess that’s the million-dollar question, one I haven’t had a chance to seriously ponder.

“With her background and experience? She could do anything,” a voice I recognize as Sloane’s pipes up on my behalf. “The sheriff’s department is constantly stretched thin, and we still have a defunct police department that could use someone with the appropriate know-how to try to breathe new life into it. She’d be an asset to any law enforcement agency or even a private organization like the High Mountain Trackers.”

“Well, I’m not sure—” I start, a little embarrassed but secretly pleased at the vote of confidence.

But Ama cuts me off.

“I’d like to see a woman on the team to take those boys down a peg,” she states, as she moves through the large kitchen like a force of nature.

“Yes,” Alex agrees with a grin. She’s setting out a tray of sandwiches, removing the plastic film covering it, while Pippa works on the coffee and Ama moves a large pot of something from the back of the stove to the front burner. “Too much testosterone between the lot. Time some of those boys slowed down anyway.”

“You ride, right?” Lucy wants to know.

“Well…umm.”

“Sure she does,” Janey answers for me, leaning over and adding under her breath. “You can come and practice on Sterling.”

Sterling is Janey’s mare, a pretty pinto.

I feel a little uneasy, because somehow, somewhere, this conversation has taken on a life of its own. Other than prompting the discussion with my surprise announcement, it went in a direction I had little input in.

“Glad that’s settled then,” Ama declares, clapping her hands together.

Then Jonas’s deep voice rumbles behind me.

“Glad what’s settled?”

* * *

Jackson

The straight shot of bourbon Jonas poured for us at the old man’s graveside is still burning its way down my esophagus as we shovel the dirt back in the hole we dug yesterday.

The old man’s oversized Stetson Jonas placed on the coffin before we lowered him into the ground is already almost covered, as we take turns with the shovels.

I’m sweating buckets in the midday sun, but my heart is much lighter and my head a lot clearer today, despite our overnight adventure. Needless to say, there wasn’t a lot of sleeping after Ewing confirmed arson. There hadn’t been a lot of answers we were able to provide—other than to share the single smoke alarm never went off—but both Ben Vallard and Mitchel Laine’s names came up. Ewing indicated he’d be contacting Vallard and he’d be in touch if there was anything to report.

I don’t think being sidelined made Stephanie very happy, but she didn’t push it. At least not then, and not this morning when she stood next to me, her fingers entwined with mine as we said goodbye to Thomas. Though I have a feeling she’s not the type to stay complacent for long, and she’s definitely not one to cower and hide when someone puts a target on her back. I just hope she doesn’t go off on her own without telling me.

Dan takes the ATV with the shovels back to the barn, while the rest of us walk back down to the ranch house. My spare limb doesn’t fit as comfortably as the damaged one does, so my limp is far more pronounced.

“Take my truck this afternoon,” Jonas offers as he falls into step beside me. “I assume you’re gonna want to get to the prosthetics clinic as soon as possible. And Stephanie may want to make a stop at her place to pick up a few things. That is, if she plans to stick around longer.”

“She’ll stick around,” I assure him. “For now.”

She and I talked about it this morning. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said she wasn’t ready to leave Libby. So I told her she could stay with me in the cabin. It’s not ideal, being right next door to the ranch house, but at least the ranch is safe. The extensive security system ensures no one comes around here without being noticed.

I glance over at the man beside me and catch him studying me.

“What are you gonna do when she leaves? Goes back to her job?”

Good question. She made it clear she’s not ready yet, but that doesn’t mean she’ll never be. I’m not so sure about long-distance relationships, especially when neither of us have very predictable schedules. If she decides to go back, I’m not sure what kind of future we’d have. Do I feel good about that? Not particularly, but that’s a decision she’s going to have to make.

I give him the only answer I have. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

He enters the house before me and as he steps into the kitchen I hear him ask, “Glad what’s settled?”

“Stephanie,” Ama, who is stirring a large pot on the stove, explains. “She’s quitting her job and moving to Libby.”

Stephanie looks mildly panicked as her eyes find mine. “I never…all I said was that I was thinking about leaving the Bureau. I…”

“And the discussion took off without her,” Janey jumps in with a big grin. “We got carried away. She never actually said she would move to Libby.”

JD chooses that moment to poke his head around the door.

“Sorry to interrupt but, Stephanie, do you have a minute?”

Stephanie’s eyes dart to me before she nods at him and follows him out into the hallway. I’m not far behind and join them out on the porch.

“I put a call in with the insurance company this morning and they’ll be sending a claims adjuster out, hopefully sometime this week,” JD starts as I step up beside Stephanie, draping my arm over her shoulders. “I’m going to need to hand over a complete inventory of items lost or damaged, so if I could bother you to put together a list of your things? Since you were a guest in my house, I’m gonna include them on my claim. If you happen to have any receipts or proof of purchase that would probably be helpful.”

“I can do that,” she answers, nodding. “Again, I’m so sorry for?—”

JD raises a hand to stop her. “You’re not responsible.”

“Still,” she persists. “If it wasn’t for me…”

“Look, the only reason I hadn’t sold the trailer or gotten rid of it some other way yet, is because I was procrastinating. Now I can scratch it off my honey-do list. I didn’t lose anything I had emotional attachments to and the only thing of significance to me is the land, and that’s still there. Plus,” he adds. “I’ll get the insurance money back.”

“Are you sure about that? Ewing confirmed it was arson,” I point out.

“Oh, we’ll get it. Eventually,” he modifies. “I’m sure the insurance company will want to investigate, which is why I figure we’d include as much documentation as we can, it’ll save time later.”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Stephanie volunteers. “Any paperwork I have would be at my apartment in Kalispell though. I was going to check my own insurance information as well. I was hoping?—”

“We can go this afternoon,” I offer. “I have to take my prosthesis in to the clinic for repairs anyway. We’ll take Jonas’s vehicle and we can stop at your place to pick up what you need.”

“Lunch!”

Ama’s voice easily carries through the house and out to the porch.

JD grins and shakes his head, muttering under his breath, “Better go in before she blows a gasket.”