Straddling the Line (14 page)

Josey would understand about the equipment, he thought. Family was family, after all. She’d worked so hard to provide for her family, her tribe—that was one of the things he admired about her. She’d made a promise to her grandfather, and she’d kept it. He would not break his promises to her just to keep Dad and Billy from brawling. He would not be the kind of man to turn his back on her for such an everyday event.

What had she given up for him? He couldn’t forget how all those kids
hadn’t
looked at him that first day at the school—how he was practically invisible. He hadn’t missed how people cut a wider berth around her mother at the powwow. He knew, deep down, that she had taken a risk being with him. She’d found a way to honor her promises
and
be with him.

Ben’s family had always been the most important thing to him. Until he’d met Josey.

He wouldn’t turn his back on her, on the sacrifices she’d made for him, especially not for a sixteen-year-old promise he’d never been able to keep. His mother wouldn’t have wanted him to push away the one woman who made him happy.

No. Josey had put her reputation on the line for him. He owed her the same. That’s what people did when they loved each other.

Josey walked in two worlds—she’d said so herself. Suddenly, Ben didn’t so much understand what that meant as he felt it, deep in his heart. She might have been talking about the white and Lakota worlds, but that’s what he needed to do, too—walk with his family
and
with her.

So this was him, looking for a new path to walk. There was more than one way to get that equipment, after all. It might take a little longer—he’d have to move a lot of his own money out of investments, but… He made a snap decision and held up his hands.

Amazingly, it worked. Everyone stopped yelling. All three of them turned to look at him. For a guy who rarely seemed to have the right answer, Ben was aware that they all expected him to fix this. Even Dad.

“Let me see if I’ve got everything straight.”

The way the three other Boltons nodded—all heads moving at exactly the same tempo, at exactly the same angle—told Ben he had their undivided attention. Finally, he thought, after all these years. They were going to listen to him.

“Bobby wants to put us in a reality show. Billy wants expensive new equipment. I want to donate the old stuff to a school for a tax deduction. Dad, you don’t want to pay for any of it.”

“Damn straight I’m not going to pay for stuff we don’t need,” Dad grumbled.

Ben took a deep breath. He’d dreamed of this, but it hadn’t gone this way in his head. “And if we’re not in the business, we’re not in the family.”

“Damn straight,” Dad muttered again, but this time, Ben saw the fear in his eyes.

I’m sorry, Mom. I tried, but I can’t fix them. I can only fix myself.

“Then I quit. Effective immediately.”

“You can’t quit!” The way the three of them shouted it in unison made it ricochet around his head.

“I can, and I am. I met someone who showed me that there’s more to life than keeping this business in the black,” he said, pointing that particular remark at Dad. “I know who I am and what I want—and it’s sure as hell not this daily war. For God’s sake, do you know how hard I worked to keep my promise to Mom, to keep the family together? And for what? So Bobby can sell us to the highest bidder? So Dad and Billy can keep on killing each other over—what? Motorcycles? No. I can’t do it, and I’m not going to die trying. Mom would’ve wanted me to find a nice girl and settle down, and that’s what I’m going to do. Without any of you.”

He had a moment of lightness, of peace. He could almost pretend Mom was looking down on him from heaven, saying, “You did your best, sweetie. Now go get your girl.”

But then he heard a noise from the front of the shop—the sound of the door shutting. He turned just in time to see what looked like Josey’s figure running out through the door.

“Josey!” he shouted as he ran after her.

He was pretty sure that, despite his best efforts, Dad and Billy were now trading punches in addition to insults, but he officially stopped caring. All that mattered was Josey. He had to get her.

But she was too fast for him. By the time he burst out of the front doors of Crazy Horse Choppers, she was in her car. He caught a glimpse of her face, saw the sobs that tore through her body. Their eyes met through the windshield. “Wait,” he said.

Maybe she heard him, maybe not. If she did, she wasn’t in any mood to listen. She slammed her car into Reverse, squealed the tires as she cut the wheel and was gone in a cloud of dust.

What the hell had just happened? Ben stood there in dumb shock, trying to figure out how much she’d heard and where he’d gone wrong. The equipment order had been canceled, webisodes, he’d quit and then he’d picked her over his family. Whatever had her freaking out, he had to find her. He wasn’t about to decide he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her just to watch her run out the door.

He was going to fight for her, by God.

Where would she go? Frantically, he tried to think. The ridge. He’d check her apartment first, but he was willing to bet she’d gone to the ridge in the middle of nowhere. Now he just had to remember how to find it.

He was so focused on getting to Josey that he didn’t hear Bobby come up behind him until the little jerk grabbed his arm. “Ben—what the hell? Are you gonna tell me—”

Ben snapped. He threw everything he had into the swing. A bone in his hand snapped, but the sparking pain was worth it. With a muffled
whump,
Bobby spun and went down like a sack of rotten potatoes.

“You traitor,” he spat out at Bobby’s motionless form. “You’re nothing like our mother.”

Then he was on his bike, riding as fast as he could, hoping he hadn’t lost the way.

*

Josey heard the rumble of the bike from some far away place. She ignored it. Instead, she focused harder and harder on the land that lay before her. Her eyes searched the familiar contours—the small hill off to the left, the line of cottonwood trees that crowded around the skinny stream in the middle and the withered and brown grass that never ended under the bleak late-fall sky.

Didn’t matter how hard she looked. She didn’t see anything.

“Josey?” This distant shout was accompanied by the sound of something large crashing through the underbrush. “Are you up there?”

No. She was nowhere, because that was where she belonged.

This was where Grandma had always come after she’d spent too long in the white world. This was the place to get right with the spirits. But the spirits didn’t seem to be interested in getting right with her.

Ben had just disowned his family for her. He was willing to give up his heritage, his life—everything he’d worked for, everything he’d built—for
her.

He’d told his family he wanted to settle down with her. She should have been thrilled, honored—
excited.
But the only thing she felt was dread. He was going to give up everything for her.

She couldn’t do the same for him.

She loved him, of that she had no doubt. For the first time in her life, a man—a relationship—made her happy. When they were together in his apartment, she almost felt like what the rest of the world thought didn’t matter anymore.

Almost.

She couldn’t hide in his warehouse mansion for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t be his kept woman, wife or not. She couldn’t give up her place in the tribe, not even for the man she loved. She’d fought for too long to earn the grudging acceptance of her people. And unlike Ben, she couldn’t turn away from the ties of blood. She had tried to walk in his world once, and she’d failed spectacularly. She couldn’t turn her back on her tribe a second time.

But even so, she had the sinking feeling that, long after the affair with Ben Bolton had faded, people would still look at her funny. She was the same nowhere girl she’d always been. She didn’t fit in the white world. Not with a white man, anyway. And despite her best efforts in the past two years, she didn’t have a place in the Lakota world, either. Or she wouldn’t, after she explained to everyone that Ben was no longer the savior of their little school.

She knew how people around here would take it—as a betrayal. Hers. She’d tried to straddle the line, walk in both worlds, but it hadn’t happened. Instead of fitting in, she’d just made extra-sure that she didn’t fit anywhere.

She’d thought that by coming back to Grandma’s place, she’d find herself. She’d always found herself here before.

But not this time.

The spirits weren’t interested in whether or not she was right with them. And it was all her fault. She was the one who’d forgotten who she was. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember who that person used to be.

“Josey?”

He was getting closer. Damn that man and his attention to detail. Of course he’d remember this place and how to get to it. She should have just driven east until she ran out of gas. Then he wouldn’t have been able to find her. No one would have, not even the ghosts.

He was panting. He must have run up the draw. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, so she shut her eyes and hid her face against her knees.

“Josey, let me explain.”

She didn’t want to hear his explanations. It hurt to have to listen to him. How had she been so foolish as to think that falling in love with him, of all people, would be enough? It wasn’t. She’d wanted more. Too darn bad she hadn’t figured out what “more” actually meant. Too bad for both of them.

He should have known better than to fall in love with a woman who didn’t exist.

He started talking in a hurried, pinched voice. “I know I promised you that equipment, and I’m sorry that the order got canceled. You know I’d never break my promise to you, Josey. I can’t get that equipment right now. But I’ll figure out a way…”

She didn’t care about the equipment. She’d accomplished her main goal. The school had drills and scroll saws and God only knew what else. Don could teach shop. Kids like Jared and Seth and Livvy could learn how to work with their hands and build job skills. She supposed she should feel good about that. But nothing was working like it was supposed to right now. That’s how wrong everything was. She’d done what she set out to do. But she hadn’t. The school was ready, but she hadn’t found her place yet. The disappointment left her hollow.

She heard him move, and then his voice came from in front of her. He sounded like he was crouching down. “I broke my hand on Bobby’s face for telling Dad and canceling the order. I’d do it again, too. In a second.”

Against her will, her eyelids opened enough that she could see the red, swollen hand he held out to her. The whole thing was twice the size it normally was. It looked like it hurt.

“Josey, listen to me, please. I want to make this right. I—I can’t keep the family together. Not like my mom wanted me to.” He sounded so sad she felt her heart breaking in a new, different way. “But I’d rather lose them than you,” he went on. “I quit. I’ll get a different job, someplace normal, somewhere where my family can’t get to me. I’ll move some money around, get the things for the shop. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, just…” He took a deep breath, and his hands—one broken, one not—rested on her knees. “Just look at me. Please.”

A man should not sound so serious, so shaky, Josey decided. It made something weak inside her want to tell him not to worry, to make him feel better. But she wasn’t going to. She hadn’t misheard him. He would walk away from his family for her. He knew who he was. He didn’t need a family or a group of people to accept or reject him.

Not like she did.

“Don’t do this to me, Josey. To us. I’m not some outsider. It’s me, Ben.” The shakiness was gone from his voice. He was getting mad at her. Good. That would make the end easier. “I love you, okay? I love you, and you’re just going to let that die because of my screwed-up family?”

He loved her? The way he’d said it—okay?—made it sound like he was negotiating a business deal. He was making a concession against his better judgment. He did not give his love freely, he expected something in return. He expected her to stay.

No. She didn’t belong with Ben because she couldn’t give up her family for him.

Then, for the first time, it occurred to her that maybe she didn’t belong here on the rez, either.

Maybe the problem wasn’t the man or the tribe.

Maybe the problem lay with her.

As this thought took root, Josey realized it was the unvarnished truth.

Of course—why hadn’t she seen it before?
She
was the problem, thinking that she could define herself by her relationship with the tribe or with Ben. No wonder she didn’t know who she was. She’d been too busy trying to be everything to everyone else.

Ben moved, and she hurried to shut her eyes. She knew one look into those baby blues might crack the dam of her resolve, and one crack could be fatal.

She felt the tender touch of his lips against her forehead, then he whispered, “I know where you belong, Josey. I know who you are. I’ll wait for you until you remember.”

Then he was gone, stumbling back through the underbrush. Soon enough, the rumble of his motorcycle shook the air, and then there was silence.

Until she remembered who she was?

Who did
he
think she was?

Twelve

“Y
ou’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.”