The First Law of Love (24 page)

“Tish,” he said, concerned but also laughing, as though unable to help it. I'm sure I must have looked ridiculous. Before I could move to stand up, Case had one arm around my waist, helping me to rise. Cider snorted and shook her mane.

Oh God, I don
'
t care how stupid I looked, it
'
s worth it for this,
I thought, held securely to him as he brought me to my feet. I was at once wreathed in the scent of him, his warmth and strength, ten thousand times better than holding his empty t-shirt to my face. I thought of how he'd looked that first day in the law office, how he'd looked singing on stage at The Spoke, how he'd appeared at the town meeting. I pretended to be a little unsteady even still, using my palms against his waist to brace myself.

You feel so good
…
oh God, Case
…
you feel so good
.

“I would have helped you down,” he reprimanded lightly, still laughing a little. His hands were cupping my elbows and I was standing on two feet, unable to keep touching him. He smoothed his right hand down my forearm, just lightly, as he let go, and the thrill of sparks that this touch caused through my body almost took me back to the ground. He asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I all but snapped at him, and he grinned even wider.

“Next time wait for me to help you,” he said.

“I got it,” I bitched.

“Come on, I'll show you where I think they were digging,” he said, unperturbed at my attitude.

“What about the horses?” I asked.

“They'll stay put,” he said, leading the way. He paused at Buck's nose and patted his neck, saying, “Won't you, buddy?”

This close to the base of the towering rock formation I felt absolutely tiny. I followed close behind Case, craning my neck to peer upwards at the horizontal rock ledge far above us and then my head flowed with a rush of dizziness. My feet stilled.

I
'
ve been here before
, I understood.

But when? How?

“See, this is where,” Case said, crouched a few yards from me, and absolute need to be close to him streamed through my body as though carried in my blood. I jogged and knelt at his side. He was in a half-crouch, his forearms braced on his thighs. As I practically skidded to a stop near him, he said, “See, there's turned and re-turned earth all around here. What the hell?”

“How long has this rock been here?” I asked, and my voice sounded urgent. Case looked into my eyes and studied me with what seemed great deliberation.

“Ages,” he said at last. “Centuries, at least.”

“It's a good marker,” I said. “A way to remember where you put something in the ground. Centuries could go by and it would never change.”

“That's true,” Case said. “It's got a permanence to it. That's some of the reason we were always drawn to it as kids.”

“You think that maybe gold has been buried here?” I asked, staring right back at him. “Gold that Yancy knows about?”

“You'd think the bastard has enough money that he wouldn't trouble himself, even if he did know,” Case said. “It's a local story, infamous enough that he could have heard of it.”

“And he's bored,” I said, with certainty, thinking of how he'd looked at me at the fair.

“That's a good point too,” Case said. “This isn't what he's used to, and thank God people haven't been rolling over and selling to him as quickly as he anticipated. But it means he's stuck here for the time being.”

“We have to keep that momentum,” I agreed. “What's the chance he'll get tired of waiting and go back to Chicago? Some people can't survive long outside of the city…”

I was actually thinking of Grace and Ina with that comment, but Case's silent gaze told me that he figured that I was talking about myself. I opened my mouth to say otherwise when he suddenly murmured, “Headlights.”

Both of us looked back the way we'd come to see a vehicle moving along the access road, headed our direction. My heart kicked up another ten notches, this time in fear. Cider nickered and Buck stomped the ground, and Case and I rose immediately, as one; standing, my forehead was at his collarbones. Instantly, almost instinctively, Case put me behind him, angling protectively in front of me.

“Oh God, what should we do?” I asked, all jacked up at the sight of the headlights coming slowly towards us. And because he'd touched me again, however briefly. I felt sweaty and my clothes too tight. I desperately wanted to grab his arm and feel him beneath my hands, but I would not be a girl right now. I would not give in, no matter how good he smelled, so close to me like this. I inhaled a little more deeply.

Case said, his voice low and firm, “If these fuckers think they can come onto my land with no explanation, they have another fucking thing coming.” He tilted his head to look down and over at me, and a grin lifted one side of his mouth. He added, “Pardon my language.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “Now's not the time to worry about that.” And then I straightened my shoulders and moved to stand beside him, rather than behind. The car was close enough now that I could tell it wasn't the SUV from the first night. It was small, much like my Honda, and it hadn't driven along more than fifty feet before Case suddenly relaxed and said, with annoyance and affection mingled in his tone, “It's all right, it's just Gus.”

“Your brother?” I said dumbly, disappointed that we weren't going to confront Yancy or his dirty workers at this moment, under the moon-drenched sky. I'd been sort-of envisioning myself making a stand beside Case, the two of us together, like at the town meeting.

The car came to a halt and through an open window I heard Gus call, “Damn! You guys beat us here! Casey, what the hell?”

Lacy and Gus both climbed from the car then, and I looked up at Case in question. He was laughing a little, shaking his head.

I asked in surprise, stunned that he'd invite other people to our stakeout, “Were you
expecting
them?”

Jesus, Tish
.

“No,” he said at once. He leaned closer to my ear to say, “They come out here sometimes to —”

“Make love,” I finished, interrupting him as understanding dawned. I didn't sound at all bitter.

Case was studying me again, so close and so intently, that I dared not look at him. A thin trickle of sweat slipped between my breasts and over my belly in a hot line. Gus and Lacy reached us and they were both grinning and had probably each had a little too much to drink for any sort of driving.

“Shit, I didn't know you two…” Gus let his voice trail off.

“We took the horses out,” Case explained, offering nothing more by way of explanation. He roughed up Gus's hair and added, “And you shouldn't be driving right now, little bro, I hope you know.”

“Hi, Tish!” Lacy chirped, her voice cheerful. She was pretty bombed, giggly and clinging to her man. I was so jealous at what they were coming to do that I felt fragile as an eggshell.

“Don't you two have your own apartment?” I snapped at them, and they both started laughing.

Case was still watching me, but his face was unreadable in the moonlight. I couldn't tell if he was even one-tenth as disappointed as I was right now.

Gus said, “We do. We just left Clark's. Thought we might…you know…”

Lacy giggled and buried her face against his shoulder.

“But we'll get going,” Gus said then, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

“Not driving, you won't,” Case said. “You're shitfaced. You should have called me for a ride.”

“Aw, Casey,” Gus wheedled. “I'm fine.”

I realized what had to be done and said, on a sigh, “I'll drive you two back to the house. You can lead Cider, right?” I stared up at Case, willing him to show what he was feeling, that he too was smothered with disappointment right now. I could have punched Gus in the face for ruining this evening. What if I didn't get another chance to hang out with Case, alone, before…

Oh God
…

Before I leave this place for good
…

The insidious feeling of desolation came creeping back into my soul.

“I can lead her,” Case said. I could not tell exactly what was present in his voice with those words.

Disappointment was so thick in my body that I could hardly get my feet going. I said to Gus and Lacy, “Let's go,” with an edge in my voice that could have carved a Thanksgiving turkey. I somehow sensed that Case was smiling, behind us.

“I'll see you at home,” he called, and though he was probably addressing all of us, I indulged in a little fantasy that he was talking just to me, and that I was heading to our home. And that he'd come riding up after I was there and come to find me, and then we'd make love until I couldn't walk, until I couldn't possibly take any more, and then I would beg him to make me take more. I released a shuddery breath at this thought, looking back over my shoulder as I followed Gus and Lacy to their car, to find Case standing with his hands caught on his hips, like he'd stood at the meeting on Tuesday, just watching.

And again I knew I had been here with him before tonight.

Gus and Lacy were apologetic and giggly, and then they started kissing in the back seat as I drove the short distance to Case's trailer.

“God, you guys,” I complained, driving with my right hand on the steering wheel and the other against my forehead, where I used four fingers to scrunch up my loose hair.

“We're sorry,” Lacy said for the both of them, giggling more.

“I didn't know that you and my brother…” Gus said, leaning forward from the backseat. “Aw, Tish, that's so great. I can't even tell you —”

“No, we're just friends,” I was quick to inform, and he sat back again.

“Shit, that's too bad,” he said. “Damn.”

The red chili-pepper lights were glowing when I pulled Gus's car beside my own. Mutt and Tiny were all excited to see us; Gus and Lacy crouched down to lavish them with affection, while I said, “I'll be right back,” realizing suddenly that I could seize this opportunity to see Case's bedroom.

Really quickly.

Just to see it, that
'
s all.

Jesus, Tish.

What is wrong with you?

Talk about a stalker.

The screen door sang as I went inside; the light above the sink was on, lending the space a warm yellow glow. I tugged out of my hiking boots before I went down the little hallway, clicking on the light switch as I walked, but instead of the door to the right, I turned left, knowing I had only a few minutes, tops. I could hear Gus and Lacy out the open windows; I was listening for hoofbeats coming closer – but what I heard instead was the frantic beating of my heart.

There were two bedrooms, but the smaller was crammed full of instruments and other trappings of a musician. I crept into the other room, the one where Case slept, in the dim light provided by the fixture in the hallway, noticing that his bed was unmade; it was a full-size, with one pillow. It smelled so much like him in here, spicy and masculine, and a trembling started in my thighs. I knelt on the bed and touched his sheets, running my fingertips over them, then took his pillow and brought it to my breasts, pressing my face against it. I breathed against it, biting the edge of it, and then I kissed it, letting my tongue touch the pillowcase, just lightly. I felt weak, literally weak, with desire, a pulse beating wildly between my legs.

I want to wait for him, right here.

I want to strip naked and wind his sheets between my legs.

What has gotten into you?!

Stop this! This is beyond insane.

I swallowed hard and replaced his pillow, in a hurry now, my face hot as the base of a long-burning fire. Outside Case had not returned and I knew I had to go now, as much as I loathed the idea of leaving before he got back with the horses. But I felt guilty, like a deviant. I had been entertaining notions that would never have occurred to me in this life, erotic things that had me so flustered that I could hardly remember where I'd put my keys.

In the ignition
, I reminded myself.

“You want a beer?” Gus asked, he and Lacy headed now towards the trailer.

“No, I have to help out Al tomorrow,” I said, my voice all shaky, but they weren't inclined to notice. I said, “Gus, tell your brother that I said good-bye. Tell him thanks for letting me ride Cider.”

“Will do,” Gus said amiably, leading Lacy by the hand.

It wasn't until I was home and stripping naked in my own room, Peaches purring around my ankles, that I reached to unclasp my earrings and realized one was missing.

The next afternoon, after spending the morning worried sick about my lost earring which I was sure Case was going to find in his bed, I met Al at the law office, where he was already busy going through stacks of files, papers sprawled everywhere. The window fan was cranked high and the radio was playing a country station, the same one that I routinely listened to in my apartment.

“Hi,” I said, lifting my sunglasses to the top of my head. My desk was untouched, other than the usual stacks that I had put there.

“Hi, Tish,” Al said, nodding towards Mary's desk. “There's the pie I promised.”

“Yum,” I said, gravitating to a paper plate and fork. “Thanks.”

“Thank you for coming in today,” he said back. “I hate this sort of thing, going through supplies and cleaning out old files and all of that. Mary would help, but I feel guilty.”

“It's no problem,” I said. “Besides, I won't be here after tomorrow, for a couple of days.”

Al looked up; he was sitting on the floor. He said, “Oh that's right. Bar exam. You'll hit it out of the park, don't you worry.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I told him. “Just tell me what to do, boss man, and I'll do it.”

Al put me to work on a stack of files in a cardboard box about as big as a refrigerator. I was glad I was wearing cut-off jean shorts and an old cream-colored t-shirt, my hair in a ponytail. I reflected as we worked, occasionally chatting, sometimes in companionable silence with only the radio in the background, that I truly enjoyed working for Al. He was a kind man, especially for a lawyer. It troubled me, perhaps unduly, that he had mentioned disliking Ron Turnbull. ‘Fairly despicable,' he'd said, and that worried me. Al was fond of understating, as I had learned. What ‘fairly despicable' would translate to if he were to speak forthrightly made my stomach cramp even worse.

It was getting to be after five, the sun angling over the building as it began its languid summertime descent, and my neck was aching, when I spied something that caught my eye. A file which contained copies of motions drafted by Al, from this past Christmas when Highland Power closed its door. I thumbed through these, not sure what I was searching for, when the words
Redd Co
. caught my eye; printed above their business logo was a red bull that I only remembered because it vaguely resembled the much better-known Merrill Lynch symbol.

Where have I seen this before?

“Hey, Al,” I called over to him. “Who or what exactly is Redd Co.?”

“I believe that's the company that purchased Highland Power,” Al replied. “Last December. Little bull logo, right?”

“That's the one,” I said. “I don't know why that seems familiar to me.”

At that exact moment from the corner of my eye I saw Case's big maroon truck glide unexpectedly into view, just outside the front window. Heart already throbbing, I watched him park just at the curb and everything within me sprang to instant, delighted life. Staring dumbly, I observed Case round the hood, hop up the curb and then push through the doors to the tingle of the bell. I was already standing up, restraining the urge to jump straight into his arms. I hadn't seen him since last night when I'd left him standing at the base of the wizard rock.

“Hey there,” he said, removing his sunglasses and tapping them against his thigh, cowboy hat in place.

“Hey,” I said back, all of the longing for him that I was not supposed to feel emerging just a little too overtly in my voice. The song “Just a Kiss” was playing on the radio; for an instant I imagined Case singing it just for me.

“You left before I got back,” he said, low, no trace of a smile.

I didn't know how to respond, my eyes moving between his lips and his beautiful eyes.

We continued to stare wordlessly at each other until Al teased, from his side of the office, “Hello to you too, Spicer.”

At this, Case seemed to come back to himself, turning to Al, lifting a hand and saying, “Hi, Al. How goes it?”

“All right,” Al said, coming around to shake Case's hand. Al continued, “What are your plans this evening, young fellow?”

I listened fervently, trying to appear as though it didn't matter a whit to me what he was doing tonight. Case turned back to me and said, as though speaking to Al, but staring right into my eyes, “I wondered if Tish wanted to come with me this evening. We have a gig over in a bar in Miles City in about two hours.” My heart responded like a bomb detonating as Case thumbed casually over his shoulder, towards his truck. “I have Wy out there. He's hitching a ride with me.” And then, softly, to me, “What do you say?”

“I would love to,” I said calmly, pretending that I didn't feel as though all of heaven had opened up to me.

Tish, for fuck
'
s sake. Wy is right out there in the truck.

But Case is here! He
'
s here to pick me up! He came to see if I wanted to come with him!

Is this a date?! It
'
s not a date!

I put a lid on my exuberant thought-flow and said, “What time…”

“Pretty quick here,” Case said. “Sorry, I should have called…”

I was all quivery and warm, but I kept a calm face as I said, “Just give me one second.”

I walked with admirable poise to the employee bathroom; once behind the closed door I leaned towards the mirror over the sink and tried to draw a full breath. My cheeks were bright, my eyes even brighter. I looked a little drunk, actually. My clothes were not exactly the sexiest things I owned; I smoothed the t-shirt over my belly and tugged at my shorts. At least I could take my hair down.

Critically I perused my make-up (basically nonexistent), and ran a fingertip over my eyelashes on either side, then hurried to unclasp my hair, tipping at the waist to shake it out. When I straightened, I finger-combed it over my shoulders, my heart crashing all over the place inside my chest, feeling like I was taking too much time in here; I could hear Al and Case talking. Stilling the trembling in my knees with a great deal of effort, I reentered the main office.

I couldn't make myself meet Case's eyes, although he had fallen utterly still and was looking at me steadily. But the moment my gaze flashed to his, unable to help myself, he made sure he was glancing back out the window, away from me.

“Someone might slap a suit on you for looking so pretty, counselor,” Al teased me. “You have a fun night. You deserve it. Working on a Saturday.”

“I will, and thank you,” I said. To Case, I added, “Just let me grab my purse.”

He held the door for me; I passed close by him on the way out, inhaling as unobtrusively as I could when I was near. Outside, in the still, hot evening air, I couldn't help but say, “I'm so glad you came to get me.”

I loved how a smile could touch his eyes first, before reaching his mouth, and how I could see this. He replied easily, “I thought you might like a night out. Here, let me get that.”

At the passenger door of the truck, I paused and turned to look at him, really look at him, clutching my purse to my waist. He was only about two feet away, but it was too far from me. His eyes, his beautiful auburn eyes, held mine and he grinned at me, sweetly and effortlessly. I felt as buoyant as a dandelion seed and smiled right back. His forearm was very near my waist as he held the door handle, poised to open it for me.

“Come on, you guys!” Wy called from in the truck, leaning forward from the backseat. “I'm starved! Tish, you get the front seat, Case said.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, as Case opened the door and I climbed in; I turned at once to Wy and said, “Hey there, buddy. You have a fake ID, or what?”

Wy laughed. He looked cute, his shaggy hair combed into something resembling order, wearing an old black Grateful Dead t-shirt. Case climbed in the driver's side and happiness absolutely punched me in the gut. Hard, almost doubling me over with the force of it. I stowed my purse on the floor at my feet so that there was nothing between Case and me. He tipped his chin to the right, my direction, for just a second as he shifted into first, still smiling.

“So, where exactly are we going?” I asked as Case took the truck straight out of town, hooking east onto I94.

“We have a show at a bar in Miles City, called the Coyote's Den.” At my laughter, he hurried to explain, “It's a great place, not as bad as the name implies. Garth and Marsh are on the way. Becky actually let Garth out of the house for the evening, to join us. I haven't played with Garth for a long time. I'm pretty excited, actually.”

I could tell, though I tried to downplay as I said, “Well thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Tag along?” Wy scoffed, leaning so far forward that he came close to obscuring my view of Case. Wy added, “You aren't tagging along. That's what little sisters do. You shoulda heard Case, he said like twenty times that we had to stop and get you.”

Case suddenly cleared his throat at Wy's words, while pure joy spread upward from the bottom of my stomach. I hadn't felt this way in so long that I was almost dizzy; I looked away, out the window, to hide my smile. The foothills were gorgeous in the sunset, the scrubby brush sparking with splashes of orange light and intermittent shadows, mysterious and secretive. I wondered just what secrets were harbored out there that no one would ever discover, the original secret-keepers long dead. I leaned my right arm on edge of the window, pondering that thought.

“It's weird,” said Wy, and I looked back at the boy. “I feel like you've been here a lot longer than these two weeks, you know? Almost like you've always been here.”

It was strange to hear him speak these words, when this notion had been circling me for days now, whispering to be acknowledged. I liked it here. I liked it a lot. It had to do with the very feeling of the air itself, a sense of being in the right place at the right time. Being near the right people. I moved my eyes back out the window, with sincere determination.

I thought,
These will be good memories when you
'
re back in Chicago. When the city gets to be too much
…

Oh God
…

I said to Wy (but really to Case), “I've been feeling that way since I got here too, to be honest.”

Wy asked, sounding more like a little boy than ever, “Can we get elk steak before the show, huh, Case?”

Case laughed. I loved the sound of his laugh, which I had heard far too few times. I was already looking over at him, unable to help myself, watching his smile, the way the sunset light pouring in the back window lit his shoulders, clad in a black t-shirt. I wanted to reach and take off his hat so that I could see his hair in the sunlight. Without realizing, I had angled my knees much closer to his side of the truck.

“Sure thing,” Case told Wy. To me, he said, “It's a Montana specialty.”

“I'll try it,” I said. “Camille really liked it, when they were out here.”

Wy piped up (and I liked the kid tremendously, but I so wished he had hitched a ride with his brothers instead), asking, “What are you guys playing tonight?”

“The Den wants classic rock, that's what they told Garth,” Case replied, shifting into fifth gear as we cruised along the interstate, the wind ruffling my hair.

“What's your favorite to play? Country, right?” I asked, though I was picturing him sleeping in his bed last night, in the sheets I had touched, with the pillow I had kissed. My stomach went hot and weightless at the very thought. Oh God, what if he
had
found my earring there?

“Country, old-time country,” he affirmed. “It's what I was raised playing. But we have a pretty damn good range of material, so it'll be fun to play something different tonight. What's your favorite to hear?”

“I've always liked country music,” I said. “But it's been a long time since I've listened to it like I have since moving here. In school these past three years old-time blues relaxed me as much as anything could. When I'd be studying late, or writing a new petition, I would listen to a lot of Bessie Smith and Jimmy Rogers. Thank goodness for my Pandora station. It introduced me to a lot of new music.”

“Jimmy Rogers on the harmonica is something else,” Case said. “That's one instrument I have not mastered. But we can play you some Muddy Waters music, next time we're around the fire.”

I couldn't look away from him, studying his crisp profile against the blue of the evening sky out the driver's side window.

“I can play the harmonica!” Wy piped up; I had almost forgotten he was with, so absorbed with Case.

Case laughed again, saying, “Yeah, you can. I'll give you that. Can't sing worth a shit though.”

We all laughed then, and Wy boxed at Case's shoulder.

“It's okay, I can't sing worth a shit either,” I said. “Camille can sing, and Ruthie, but those talents skipped me, I guess.”

“You got other talents, like kicking butt,” Wy said, and I rolled my eyes at him, though I couldn't help but smile at these words.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You worked yourself pretty hard in school, didn't you?” Case asked then, looking back at me, but only for a second.

“I would have failed, if not,” I acknowledged.

“But I mean you worked harder than you probably had to, pushing yourself. I can still see you doing that,” he said.

“It's my job now,” I said, my heart catching at the tone in his voice; he sounded concerned, I could tell, even if it was subtle. I thought of the sleepless smudges that still decorated the skin beneath his eyes, matching my own. Apparently neither of us was sleeping very well, alone.

“Al is right, you deserve a night out,” Case said. “Will you let us treat you to dinner? Wy and me, I mean?” How cagey of him, disguising his buying me dinner in this way. I felt myself smile hugely and he smiled back.