“Well, he drops in on me all the time, so that would be kind of narrow-minded, wouldn’t it?”
“I’ll take Molly with me. She loves to go in the car.”
Sierra set out on what was to be a short and beautiful drive just north of Timberlake. The summer sun was about to start setting, the hillsides were lush, the late afternoon warm and a little sultry from the humidity. The roads weren’t very well marked but she only had to make a few turns and Sully had gotten the distances between them very accurate. She found herself in a rural neighborhood—the houses spaced by a couple of acres. And at the drive to Connie’s house there was a sign. Boyle.
She drove toward it; it was a sweet house. It was a small ranch with a garage and a circular drive in front. There was a very small porch at the front door and a couple of potted plants by the steps. There was a bay window, the shutters open; there didn’t appear to be any lights on in the house. It wasn’t dark because the sun was just beginning to sink in the west, but it looked as though no one was home. That gave Sierra unspoken permission to just sit and take in the house. The house told the story of a man who had crafted his own living space; a man who took pride in his home. Yet this was just a young, single man; a physical and darling man who lived life on the edge.
Did he want a place to come home to that would embrace him?
The lawn was well cared for and the house was brick with wood trim. Like many Colorado houses, there was a screen door to let the cool spring and summer air flow through. She imagined there might be a kitchen window over the sink that would be open to let the breeze escape. There were some flowers planted along the edge of the front walk and a freestanding brick mailbox that matched the brick of the house. Details were obviously labored over—brown brick with matching garden border and brick circular drive, flawless white window trim that appeared meticulously maintained, edging along the drive. The house was surrounded by trees, many of them aspen, their silver leaves twinkling in the breeze.
Molly came up into the front seat, sitting next to Sierra. They looked at Connie’s house together. To Sierra, a house represented so much. Stability, safety, family. It symbolized something she thought she might never have, something she’d always longed for. She came here for the nearest thing to family she could have—Cal and Maggie. And she hit the jackpot—she got Sully and the Crossing, too. And, she reluctantly admitted, throw in Moody, Frank and Enid. And Molly. If this was all she ever got, she could be content.
Looking at that humble yet rich home, she found herself happy for Conrad. She leaned back in the seat and her hand wandered to Molly’s head, petting. Obviously Connie was not at home. Or maybe he was asleep. Asleep next to a beautiful brunette? Nah—there was no other car there. There would be no cause to hide a visitor’s car in the garage. She had her windows down and enjoyed the cool early-evening breeze while gazing at the fruits of Connie’s labors. And fantasizing what it would be like to have a real home.
She heard an engine and turned in her seat to see Connie pull his big truck up to the garage. He got out and came immediately over to the pumpkin. Sierra opened her door to get out and Molly instantly escaped but she ran right to Connie, jumping on him.
“Hey there, hey,” he said to the dog, massaging her behind the ears, calming her.
Sierra shook her head with a small laugh—Molly loved Conrad. Molly was such a tramp—she gave herself to the big man. And after a bit of canine foreplay, Molly sat like a good girl, looking up at him adoringly. The little traitor.
“Sierra, what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she said. “I went to the firehouse to see you and you had gone. You weren’t at the Crossing today and I called you and there was no answer.”
“I was at the Crossing,” he said. “I just came from there. Sully said he’d told you how to get to my house. I came right away. I thought I might pass you on the road.”
“You were at the Crossing...?”
“I’m there all the time. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“I realized I was taking that for granted because the first time you weren’t there, I didn’t even have your phone number so I could call and see if everything was all right.”
“Sierra, everyone has my phone number!”
“Yeah, except me. So Sully gave me the number and it went right to voice mail.”
He yanked it out of his pocket and looked at it. “Oh, I had my ringer off. But you didn’t leave a message?” he asked. “Or a text? What’s going on with us? Why can’t we have a normal relationship?”
“I don’t know,” she said tiredly. “It’s probably me. I told you—I’m no good at this.”
He laid his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “Why were you looking for me?” he asked.
“Why’d you have your phone off?”
“I went to see my mom,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to but I saw I could steal a couple of hours from work at the end of the day so I called her. She was free at four when she got off work. I drove to Denver to see her. I hadn’t seen her in a while. I talk to her all the time but I haven’t seen her in a month or maybe two. We just spent about an hour together, that’s all. I must’ve forgot to turn my ringer back on.”
“Your mom?” she asked.
“Yeah, she’s great. I’ll take you to meet her one of these days. If you want to.”
Sierra laughed at herself, feeling foolish. “Oh, Connie,” she said.
He rubbed the knuckle of his index finger down her cheek. “So, you were looking for me? You’ve never done that before. Should I take that as a good sign?”
“You have no idea what I thought,” she said with some embarrassment.
“Oh? What did you think?”
“I saw you with that woman,” she said. “I guess I jumped to conclusions...”
“What woman?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Lola said that was your ex-girlfriend. You were hugging her. You must be on very good terms with her.”
“Huh?” he asked. “Oh, you mean Alyssa? No,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t say we’re on very good terms. I mean, I behave when I see her. We were horrible to each other right after we broke up, but like I told you, that was a while ago—over two years at least. But today? She wanted to tell me something—her mom, who I always liked a lot, has cancer and she’s in the final stages. Alyssa has always been close with her mom and she was all messed up about it, which I guess anyone would be. It was terrible news and I felt sorry for her.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I’m sorry...”
“She asked me if I’d visit her and I said, sure I would.”