Close Enough to Touch (8 page)

“Ready?” he asked.

She put down the book she’d been looking at, but her eyes
stayed on it.

“You like horror novels? I’m done with that if you want to read
it.”

“Yeah?” She picked it back up again and opened it to the first
page. “Was it good?”

“His best in years.”

“Okay, sure. Thanks.” She slipped it into her purse and
shrugged her jacket on. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I read fast.”

“An expensive habit.”

“Yeah,” she said. “The library. Anyway, I’m not a resident
here, so…”

“I’ll check some out for you if you like. Give me a list.”

She glanced at him as she passed him on the way out the door.
“You’ve got a library card?”

“Sometimes they let cowboys in on free range days.”

“With fair warning to the public, I hope.”

God, she made him laugh. He wanted to push and goad her just to
see what she’d say next. She might be a touch prickly, but, hell, talking to
Grace, he felt more awake than he’d been in months.

* * *

W
HAT
THE
HECK
was she doing hanging
out with the cowboy again? When she’d walked out of that saloon yesterday—being
very careful not to sway or trip over her own feet—she’d given herself a little
talking-to.

Yes, she was bored. Yes, she was a little lost. But flirting
with a guy just to pass the time? That was stupid. Especially when he was hot
and lived a few feet away from her bed. It wasn’t as if she had a history of
restraint. Or wise choices. Or self-control.

Case in point? Less than a day after telling herself to stay
away from him, she was climbing up into his big black pickup and settling into
the leather seat.

But despite her self-recriminations, Grace felt a thrill of
satisfaction as she buckled up. She was going somewhere. Getting out of the
house. How many days had it been since she’d even ridden in a vehicle that
didn’t have dozens of seats? Even in L.A., she’d been taking the bus or train
for weeks.

As Cole started the truck, she rolled down the window, breathed
in the cool morning air, and she felt
free.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

Where? She had no idea. She should go to the store. She should
get to know the town better. She should find the post office and the bank and
the library. But she took a deep breath and said, “Just drive.”

“You got it,” he said softly.

Cole turned toward town, which surprised her, but she watched
the streets pass with new eyes. It was different when you were driving.
Everything so quick and temporary and new as it passed her gaze. The Western
shops were cheesy but charming. The wooden sidewalks so different from anything
she’d ever seen. They passed the bus station where she’d first set foot in
Wyoming, and then she saw them: the antlers.

“Oh, my God. There are thousands of them.” There were. They
formed a wide, tall arch at the corner of a square park. When they turned, she
saw that there was another arch on the next corner. And another on the other
side of the park. And there was a carriage parked there, the horses shaking
their manes in the bright sunlight. It really was amazing that she’d missed
them.

“Did you want to stop and look?”

“No, keep going.” The tourist shops slid past her, the tourists
already out in their shorts and sunglasses. They passed another carriage rolling
along, two small children looking slightly stunned and unsure as the carriage
rocked around a turn.

Then suddenly the crowded blocks of hotels and shops were gone.
There was a green park, and then…nothing.

Nothing but a huge expanse of rolling meadows and a tumbling
stream and flocks of birds rising up into the bright blue sky.

“Wow,” she said. She hadn’t expected this at all. Somehow it
was all invisible from inside the town, but now she couldn’t imagine there was a
town anywhere nearby.

They drove along the bottom of a ridge for a while, Grace
staring hard over the fields that stretched out from there, watching for elk or
anything else she might see. Then the ridge fell away and in the distance, the
mountains rose up.

“Wow,” she breathed again. “It’s amazing.”

Cole caught her eye and grinned. “You know, this is what most
people do the first day. Jackson’s nice and all, but nobody comes here for the
small-town charm. It’s the mountains. The parks. The wildlife. The sky.”

The sky, yes. Something so simple as air, and yet it was
beautiful. Magical. Stretching for miles of impossible blue before falling
behind the mountains.

She wished she had a camera. It was almost an ache inside her,
the need to try to capture the beauty of the moment. They had mountains in
California, and she’d passed plenty on the bus ride here, but this moment was
just…stunning. A perfect contrast to how screwed up and dark and complicated her
life was. She felt insignificant, and that was a relief. That whatever mistakes
she’d made, all the things she’d managed to mess up were all meaningless and
small.

She wanted to capture that, somehow, in a picture, but she’d
pawned her camera the week before. And the kind of cell phone that let you buy
sixty minutes at a time definitely didn’t come with a camera.

But for the moment, Grace let that desire go and simply took it
all in.

“Where do you want to go?” Cole asked, seemingly unmoved by the
amazing sight. Then again, he saw it all the time. Maybe that was why he smiled
so easily.

She looked around, searching for a place she wanted to get
closer to. A sign at the side of the road pointed the way toward the national
parks. They were completely surrounded by beauty. How could she possibly choose?
What did she want?

“Take me somewhere no one else goes,” she said.

He was quiet for a moment, looking out the window as if he
could see something puzzling up ahead. Finally, he nodded. “All right. I can’t
promise no one goes there, but I don’t think many tourists get that far off the
path.”

She glanced down at her boots. These were sturdy, but she
wasn’t sure they were good for hiking.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mean that kind of path.”

“I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can handle anything.”

She felt a warm rush at his words. He said it as though he
admired that. Most guys didn’t. Most guys wanted to feel needed. They resented
that she didn’t need them. And she didn’t.

The warm rush dropped away like falling water.

She couldn’t say that anymore, could she? She couldn’t pretend
that she didn’t need anybody and never had. But she’d never let anyone else know
that. She’d rather die.

So she smiled. “I’m pretty tough. But I’m not sure if the boots
are.”

He glanced down to her feet. “They look pretty tough to
me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, the appreciation in his tone obvious even
before he glanced at her with heat in his eyes.

Wow. Grace cleared her throat. He liked the whole tough-girl
thing, huh? Wanted a little edginess in his life, maybe? She told herself she
didn’t feel flattered. She wasn’t traveling entertainment for a small-town
country boy.

Then again…he wasn’t just a small-town country boy. He was a
man who worked with his hands every day. His dimples were sweet, but his hands
were scarred and strong. She snuck a look at the steering wheel, at the fingers
wrapped around it.

Cole slowed the truck and took a right turn, distracting her
from thoughts of his hands. This road cut through a field. She couldn’t tell if
it was hay or wild grass or something else, but the wind rippled over the golden
stalks, and it looked like an ocean. It was beautiful, and the shushing sound of
it filled the truck.

Grace spotted something moving through the grass and choked on
excitement. “Is that an elk?” she gasped, pointing.

“That’s a deer.”

“How can you tell the difference?”

Cole looked at her and a smile spread over his face. He
chuckled. “They’re totally different animals.”

She slumped a little in her seat and crossed her arms. A strand
of purple hair blew into her eyes and she shoved it out of the way. But there
was no way to stay mad. Not right now. The world was too beautiful in that
moment. She knew it would be crappy again soon enough. She couldn’t waste this,
so she turned away from Cole and watched the strange view sliding by her
window.

They passed more deer. Probably. How could she be sure when he
wouldn’t tell her? Then the land got a little hillier. They were driving
higher.

Deer jumped out of some bushes at the side of the road and
raced away. But they looked a little…

“Holy shit, what are those things?” Grace yelled, grabbing
Cole’s arm.

The brakes screeched for a moment. The truck jerked right and
then left again. But Grace was too busy watching the freakish deer to care. They
were the ones with the black masks again. The creepy black masks tattooed over
their little deer faces.

“What the hell?” Cole snapped.

“Those things! What are they? They’re bouncing! And
creepy!”

“Creepy?” He pulled to the side of the rode and shook his head.
“Those are pronghorn. And I almost rolled the truck.”

“Pronghorn?” She craned her neck to watch warily as the herd
headed away.

“Antelope.”

“Antelope? Like in Africa?”

“No, antelope, like ‘the deer and the antelope play.’ You know?
The song about America? Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

“Oh.” The animals had finally bounced out of sight, so Grace
gave up her vigil and looked at Cole. “Those are antelope? American antelope?
Are you sure? Because they’ve got little masks and pointy black horns and they
look like they should be grazing next to giraffes.”

He frowned. His mouth opened. Then closed again. He blinked
several times. “You’re really damn weird, you know that?”

“Oh,
I’m
weird? Have you gotten a
good look at those things?”

“Grace… You…” He couldn’t seem to get any words out after
that.

She shrugged. “I’m going to do some research. I’m pretty sure
those things aren’t native. They’re probably an invasive species.”

“What?”

“Like killer bees. We’ve got a big problem with those in L.A.
now. Some genius brought them over from Africa.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at her.

“Africa,”
she said, raising her
eyebrows in exaggerated alarm. “A coincidence? Or a clue?”

His eyes narrowed. “How long have you been screwing with
me?”

She grinned hard enough that her cheeks actually hurt.
Apparently it had been a while since she’d used those muscles. “Not very long,
I’m embarrassed to say.”

“So, you really didn’t know what they were?”

“Are you kidding me? Those things are not right. But I guess I
have to believe you when you say they’re antelope. And I’m sorry I scared
you.”

“Come on,” he huffed. “I wouldn’t say you
scared
me. You just startled me. Thought there was a buffalo on the
road or something. Oh, sorry. Bison. I don’t want you worrying that someone’s
accidentally introduced African water buffalo into the ecosystem.”

Grace laughed. She laughed so hard she had to press her hand to
her mouth to try to stop it. That didn’t work. In fact, she laughed harder.
Laughed until tears overflowed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “They just
freaked me out.”

“I guess they might be a little odd-looking compared to mule
deer.”

“You
think?
” She laughed even
harder when he smiled. “God, stop making me laugh. Just drive.”

“I’m still a little shaky.”

She hit his arm and relaxed back into the seat. “So, where are
we going? The mountains are the other way.”

“Don’t worry. There are plenty of mountains to go around. We’re
taking a back road into the Gros Ventre River valley. There are campgrounds and
trails here, but it’s not one of the main tourist stops.”

As they worked their way higher up the hill, the shrubs and
grasses were occasionally interrupted by groves of aspen, their leaves pale
green in the sunlight. The only sounds were the truck engine and the shushing of
leaves in the breeze. She breathed in and sighed. “It’s amazing here. So
quiet.”

“Yeah.”

“You wouldn’t believe how noisy the city can be.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been to a city before, you
know.”

“Yeah?” she teased. “Like Boise?”

“Something like that.”

She smacked his arm again. “I’m kidding. But really. L.A. is
just heat and cars and…hunger.”

“Hunger?”

She hadn’t meant actual hunger, but when he frowned, her cheeks
burned, and she scrambled to cover the truth in her words. “Everyone is starving
for something there. Fame or fortune or sex or beauty. Even when you have what
you need, the next person is always showing you why it’s not enough. Everyone
feels desperate.” And then there was the actual hunger. Plenty of that to go
around, too.

She wasn’t sure why kids with nowhere to go gravitated to
Southern California. Maybe it was because it rarely got cold, but she didn’t
think it was that logical. Maybe it was as simple as following the line of other
souls who thought they were too jaded to hope, but somehow found themselves
wishing for more. Or maybe it just felt like a place where things were
possible.

Unfortunately, things
were
possible
in L.A. Anything was possible. From your wildest dreams to a darkness you could
never have imagined for yourself. She’d seen it all. One old friend had ended up
on the number-one sitcom in the country. Many others had ended up dead. Or
worse. Maybe she should be thankful she’d found some middle path.

Cole finally broke the silence. “Does that mean you’re happy
you left?”

Happy? She looked at Cole and then back out the window. A tiny
creek flowed along the road here. It looked happy, but Grace wouldn’t truly
describe herself that way. But right at this moment, at least, she felt
peaceful. “I’m relieved,” she said softly. And she was. She was also scared and
worried and pissed off and bitter. But underneath all that, she was relieved. “I
haven’t spent much time outside L.A., and I’m not sure I would’ve left on my
own. But now, now it’s almost like I’ve broken free of something.”