Straddling the Line

Twelve

“You’re really leaving?” Jenny stood in the doorway of Mom’s trailer, blocking Josey’s exit.

“For the hundredth time, yes. Here,” Josey said, hefting a copier-paper box full of shoes at her, “carry this.”

“Do you have to go tomorrow?” Jenny sounded more like a whiny kid than a full-grown woman. And she wasn’t moving.

“For the hundred and first time, yes. I start the new job on Monday.” Josey did a slow turn, gauging how much stuff she had left to pack. Two more boxes, and then the suitcases of clothing. Four more trips, maybe five?

Jenny glared at her. “I don’t understand why you had to get a job in Texas. I don’t understand why you’re leaving. When Ricky dumped me—while I was pregnant, may I remind you—I didn’t tuck tail and run.”

“I’m not tucking and running.”

“Like hell you’re not. So he turned out to be a jerk. What man isn’t?” Jenny said this as if it were a fact of life. “It’s not like you work for him or anything. He’ll never set foot on the rez again—not if he knows what’s good for him. You’ll never see him again. You don’t have to leave.”

Sorrow threatened to overwhelm Josey. She’d had an almost identical conversation with Mom last night.

But Josey wasn’t leaving Mom and Jenny. If anything, they’d be the only two reasons to stay. But neither of them could see how much of a pariah Josey had become in the days following The End of Ben. People had stopped looking at her—even people she’d counted as friends, people like Don.

She couldn’t stay here and be an outsider trying to fit in, and she couldn’t let Ben be the way she defined herself. “You’ll like Texas. Lots of cowboys. You can bring Seth down on summer breaks and stuff.”

“Why Texas? Why go at all?”

“Because that’s where the job is. Dallas is a nice city.” Texas was someplace that had no memories. She’d looked at New York, but she didn’t want to bump into the ghost of her grandparents every time she turned a corner. She wanted a blank slate, where no one had ever heard of Josey White Plume or Ben Bolton.

She needed to forget him, just for a little bit, while she tried to figure out who she was going to be from now on. Texas was as good as place as any to start over. People wouldn’t look at her and wonder. They might assume she was Hispanic, but that wouldn’t mark her as different. She would blend. Which was almost the same thing as fitting in. Almost.

Not that Jenny understood that. The perma-scowl on her face made that much clear.

Josey tried to appease her. “Hey—it’s the Children’s Hospital. I’ll still be helping kids. I thought you’d like that.”

“But not our kids,” she snapped. “Not us.” With that, she stomped outside and dropped the box on the ground next to Josey’s car.

She didn’t want to leave with Jenny mad at her—but she couldn’t see a scenario where Jenny was happy to see her go. That was a nice feeling. At least someone would miss her.

Would Ben? Josey tried not to think about him, but again and again he popped up in her thoughts. She’d spent far too many long nights wondering if he would come for her, but she hadn’t heard a peep out of a Bolton in the past four weeks.

It was better this way. She didn’t belong here or there, so she was going somewhere new and become someone new.

She’d found a job and rented an apartment. She was leaving, and that was that. It was better this way—a clean break.

That’s what she told herself, again and again. She liked to pretend it was working. Tomorrow morning, pretending would get a lot easier. She needed to be in a different state than Ben just so she’d have room to think.

Jenny was leaning against the car, glaring at her. “You’re coming by the school before you leave tomorrow, right? You’re going to say goodbye to the kids, right?”

“Right. Around nine.” One final hurrah to the old Josey White Plume.

She knew she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. She’d just have to do it quick, before her emotions got the better of her. After that, she’d be able to spend the thirteen hours in the car figuring out how she was going to fit into her new life.

Jenny wiped her hand across her eyes. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

Josey went to her sister-at-heart and wrapped her up in a huge hug. “I’ll come visit, okay? I’ll come back for the graduations and stuff.”

Sniffling, Jenny pushed her away and headed back into the trailer, where she grabbed another box. “Yeah, but it won’t be the same.”

That’s what Josey was counting on.

*

The next morning, Josey did a final sweep of her studio apartment. Empty, the small room seemed bigger than she remembered it. She was breaking her lease, but the new job in Dallas would pay her enough to make up the difference. She grabbed the box of books and headed down.

Her whole life was packed into the back of her car. Most everything she had owned had found happy homes with other people on the rez. She wasn’t even taking the coffeepot. Just her clothes, her computer and a few things her grandparents had left her.

She fiddled around with the boxes, making sure they wouldn’t shift during the trip, but everything was loaded and locked. She’d put it off as long as possible. Time for her final trip out to the rez. Then she could be on her way to a new life. A new Josey—whoever that was.

The drive took longer, like her car was trying to keep her here as long as possible. She took in the sweeping grasslands, the goofy roadside signs for Wall Drug and the sight of pronghorns dancing in the distance for the last time. She’d promised Jenny she’d come back, but she wasn’t sure she could say goodbye to this place again and again.

Should have left yesterday, she thought as she bit her lip to keep the tears from breaking free. She shouldn’t have agreed to this farewell, to giving every one of those kids—her kids—a hug and the books she’d picked out for them before she left. Because that’s what she was doing. Leaving them all behind.

Lord, she didn’t know if she could do this. Was she really telling herself that she’d never see Livvy or Seth or Jared again? Was she really going to miss watching Kaylie grow up?

Josey had to stop before the final turn and take a bunch of deep breaths to get herself under control. Maybe she’d feel different in a few months. Maybe the new woman she was going to become would be able to come back to the rez every so often without feeling like another part of her was dying. Maybe she’d be able to come back when the eighth-graders graduated in six months. She could do that, right?

Once she was under control, Josey kept going. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner…

That thought died as she rounded the last bend. A massive, dual-wheel pickup truck—gray—with a custom trailer attached to it was parked next to the school.

Ben was here. He’d come for her.

But that wasn’t all. Over the school door hung a sheet painted with the words We Love Josey and decorated with all the kids’ handprints. All the kids were standing in front of the school. Oh, no. Livvy was holding flowers.

The emotional turmoil that already had her rolling turned vicious on her in a second. In that brief moment, she debated bailing versus just throwing up. Would she ever be prepared for that man?

No. Not in this lifetime. Maybe not even in the next.

She didn’t have a plan B, so she made the snap decision to stick with plan A. It was still a plan, after all. No matter what he said, she had a job in Dallas, and she was leaving. Today. If he wanted her, he should have gotten his butt in gear during any of the preceding four weeks to come get her. That was that. And the kids? They were too young to understand how hard it was for her.

She parked at a safe distance from the familiar truck. Why did he have the trailer today? Had he gotten some equipment? He’d said he’d figure out how to get some. It had been one of the last things he’d said to her.

The second her resolve started to flutter, she snapped back to attention. So he’d gotten ahold of some equipment. Good for the school. Great for the kids. That wasn’t her concern anymore.

She got out of the car. She was not leaving until she had said goodbye to the kids. That was the plan, and she was sticking to it, Boltons and signs and flowers be darned.

“We love you, Josey!” The kids all shouted in unison as Livvy ran up and handed her the flowers.

“We don’t want you to go,” Livvy said, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Josey pulled the girl into a fierce hug. “Oh, hon.” The ground she’d been standing on felt shaky.

She’d thought no one—except Mom and Jenny—wanted her to stay on this rez. Had she gotten it all wrong? Maybe it wasn’t what the grown-ups thought that mattered. She’d made a difference to these kids, and they loved her for it. Being too white or not Lakota enough didn’t even figure into it.

Blinking, she looked up and saw Ben Bolton filling the door frame. Oh, he looked good. He looked like he always did—dark jeans, button-down shirt cuffed at his forearms, black boots—but just the sight of him took her resolve and threatened to smash it to smithereens.

He saw her. She could tell. He said something to someone over his shoulder, and then those long legs were closing the distance between them faster than her heart was beating.

Behind him, Josey saw Mom and Jenny shooing all the kids back inside. Jenny called to Livvy, but before the girl went back in, she shot Josey a grin that said she was in on it. “He came back. I think he always will.” Then she was gone, running into the school and shutting the door behind her.

Out of the mouths of babes.

Ben pulled up before he was touching her, but only just. His eyes seemed unbelievably blue today. In fact, she was having trouble believing this whole thing.

“You’re here.” One hand waved up, like he wanted to touch her face but thought better of it. His hand was splinted and wrapped in a beige bandage.

She swallowed. “I’m leaving.”

“I heard. Dallas.” He stared down at her with a fierce intensity. “Your mom said your job starts Monday.”

“Yeah.” She wanted to tell him he looked good, that she was glad to see him, that she still hadn’t figured out who she was so he might as well stop waiting for her. But that wasn’t part of her plan, so she kept the words to a minimum.

“I missed you.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. It was the sort of thing that was easy to say, but hard to prove. If he’d really missed her, he’d have come for her sooner. Right?

They looked at each other for an unbroken moment before someone cleared his throat behind Ben. He turned to acknowledge…his brother, Bobby? And behind him, Billy? She checked, but she didn’t see their father. She supposed she should be thankful for that, but three Boltons was at least two too many.

“Ms. White Plume, hi. Remember me? Bobby Bolton?” He talked a little differently, like his jaw was stuck halfway open.

“Hello.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I just needed to apologize to you, you know, for the mix-up. I, uh…” He stopped and swallowed.

“Go on.” Staring at his boots, Ben sounded like a father listening to a recalcitrant child repeat a practiced apology. He flexed his hand inside the brace.

“I didn’t mean to get Ben’s order canceled. I wasn’t aware of the situation, and I made an ass of myself. It won’t happen again.” He gave Ben a look that said, “How was that?” Ben nodded and turned to Josey.

He was waiting for her. He always waited for her.

“Um, okay. Apology accepted. Thanks.” Bobby managed a crooked smile that made him look relieved.

Then Billy stepped up. His beard was trimmed down to a goatee, and a huge, angry scar cut down one side of his face. She’d never gotten a really good look at the oldest Bolton—too much shouting was distracting—but she was pretty sure that scar was new. “We’re sorry about our dad, too. He can come off as a huge—” Ben cleared his throat in warning. “Jerk. He can come off as a jerk, but his heart’s in the right place. Most of the time.”

“I, um, I understand.” Not really, but she was pretty sure everyone would be happier if they could stop this whole apologize-for-everything parade.

They all stood there, more or less looking at their feet, for a pained second. Then Billy said, “Yup,” and he and Bobby moved toward the trailer.

“What’s going on?” Josey hissed to Ben.

A metallic thud shook the ground, making both of them jump. She spun around to see the Boltons opening up the trailer. Something told her they weren’t about to unload woodworking tools.

The corner of his mouth curved up, and even though she was sticking to her plan, dang it, certain parts of her went melty.

“We wanted to come out and tell you in person that our equipment is on order.” His smile deepened. “We should be able to donate our old equipment in six months.”

Stunned was such an inadequate word. “How?”

“Everyone calmed down in the E.R., and we had a chance to talk. Well, I had a chance to talk while Bobby got his jaw wired, and Billy and Dad got stitched up, and they worked on my hand. Bobby’s got a production deal he’s working on, and the long and the short of it is that Billy and I convinced Bobby that helping the school is good for business. We’ll donate the equipment, build the bike and film the whole thing. It’ll be great press for the company and the school.” Josey’s jaw dropped, but Ben just gave her that almost-grin. “And Dad can’t argue with all three of us. Not when we work together.” He leaned forward. “And what’s good for business is good for the family.”

He’d decided this a month ago—and this was the first she was hearing of it? “But—but you quit your family and I’m leaving. Today. Now.”

Ben stepped in closer—so close she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. “My father apologized to me. Wish you could have seen it,” he added, his almost-smile deepening. “Never thought I’d see the day when he told me he was proud of me, but it happened.”

Part of her was happy for him, because she knew how much that meant to him. But the other part? “It’s been a month.”

The flash of anger surprised her. Now that she thought about it, she wanted to throttle him. He’d done all of this—bikes and equipment and filming—without even bothering to pick up the phone?

No, she was not going to get melty or fluttery or anything just because he had the nerve to give her that private smile when she was mad at him.

“You weren’t at your apartment the nights I came by, and I didn’t think coming out to the rez unannounced was in my best long-term interest.”

He’d come for her. He’d waited for her. Josey shook herself. She was sticking with the plan. She was leaving. “You could have called.”

“I wanted to talk to you face-to-face. I wanted you to look me in the eye again.” She could see the truth of that in his expression. He wouldn’t have been able to change her mind on the phone, but when faced with the full-blown intensity of his gaze…she was wavering, and no amount of sticking with the plan was enough to keep her steady. “And after a few weeks of missing you here and there, I decided to wait until I was finished.”

“Finished with what?” Stupid wavering voice, betraying her weakness around him. She couldn’t even remember the plan she was supposed to be sticking to.

“I wanted to give you something.” He put his hands on her shoulders and spun her around before she could say anything—not that she knew what to say, but still. He didn’t let go of her, either. Instead, he pressed his front against her back. The unexpected contact sent an unwilling shiver through her body. Ben’s scent—leather and the wind—surrounded her. He’d waited for her. He’d come for her. And he’d brought her…

Bobby was dusting the seat of a motorcycle while Billy crouched down behind it, rubbing a cloth over the chrome tailpipes. The bike had the same clean lines that Ben’s did, but it was smaller, with a body that was a cheerful shade of red.

“A bike?”

“Your bike.”

“Mine?”

His hands circled her waist, holding her tight. “Yes. I wanted to give you something to remember me by. Because I’ll never forget you. I’ll never forget who you are.”

“Who am I?” She had to know what he thought. She couldn’t leave without knowing who she was to him.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising against her back. “You’re a complicated, conflicted woman, intelligent and beautiful. You cherish the past while working for a better future. You walk in both worlds, and you love them both. You expect better of me, and you make me better because of it.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Not even a squeak.

A low hum issued from his chest. She knew that sound. It was the sound of satisfaction. “I can’t make you stay, Josey, but I won’t give up on you. I’ll come visit you in Texas, or New York—whatever it takes. No matter where you go or who you try to become, I’ll still love you. Leaving won’t stop that.”

He loved her—the Lakota part, the white part, the messy way those two parts blended together. It was a simple fact that time and distance wouldn’t change. He knew who she was, and he loved her anyway.

She might never truly be prepared for this man, but screw it. Winging it had its advantages, too.

She spun in his arms and kissed him. Oh, she’d missed his lips, missed being in his arms. But more than physical, more than sexual, she’d missed him. How could she have thought she could live without him?

He lifted her off her feet and swung her around. The hum got louder until suddenly he was laughing. “Stay,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

“I broke my lease. I don’t have any place to live.”

“Live with me. Stay with me.” He kissed her again. This time, it packed more of a wallop, making her insides fluttery and melty at the same time. “I need you, Josey. Marry me.”

“I need you, too.” To pretend she didn’t was foolishness embodied. If Ben walked beside her, willing to put one foot in each of her two worlds… She grinned. The journey was always easier with someone walking next to her.

A muffled cheer went up from inside the school. Josey broke away from Ben enough to see that, while no one had overheard their conversation, about thirty faces were pressed to the windows. Her cheeks got hot, only adding to the feelings running rampant. “We have an audience.”

“Yeah.” Billy’s voice boomed across the grass. “You guys look like you can take it from here, so Bobby and I’ll just be going.”

Sweet Jesus, she’d forgotten about the other Boltons, too. Everyone had seen them kissing. Strangely, it didn’t bother her as much as it used to. In fact, it felt just right.

“Always a pleasure, Ms. White Plume. Catch you later, Ben,” Bobby shouted as Billy flipped up the trailer’s door. The two of them hopped into the truck and took off.

Now some of the kids were banging on the glass, and Jenny’s face appeared in the window of the door. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Ben said. He took her hand and pulled her toward her car.

Except there wasn’t room for both of them in there. She yanked him toward the bike. Mom could leave the school van here and take Josey’s car home for the night. She and Ben could come back and get it tomorrow. “Your place. Take me to your place.”

He pulled up short and kissed her again—a kiss full of promises, a kiss that delivered them.

“Our place. Come on, Josey. Let’s go home.”