Lose the whole thing? I tried to imagine that wild thing living anywhere but here. Stuffed in some apartment in the city with five boys and a minimum wage job? My accounting background could barely stand the thought.

  “You want a pitcher of beer?” Patsy asked.

  “I’m not sure what they’ll want, so I’ll wait for them.”

  “Real thoughtful of you,” Patsy said, approval creeping into her voice. “A lot of men just do whatever they wish without thinking of others. Not Mr. Anderson, mind you. He’s always treated me like a queen.”

  “Good for you,” I said. “It’s nice to hear about a good marriage occasionally.”

  “God’s blessed us, that’s all there is to it. Tell you what—I’ll order you a bucket of wings so they’re here when they arrive.”

  Before I could stop her, she was off to greet another customer.

  I looked through the menu, even though I knew it well already. Typical bar food: burgers, nachos, fries, and chicken wings. What could be better?

  The television over the bar played a show about fly-fishing. It was on my list to do more of next spring. I had yet to try cross-country skiing or fly-fishing. A part of me wondered if I’d be around this time next year. Should I bother learning the ways of this wild country, only to be yanked away? Mike had mentioned on the phone the other day that I was genius at starting new branches and if I wanted, he could send me to another one if an opportunity arose.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jennie, Mark, and Stella walk in and turned to wave them over to the table. Jennie lifted her hand in greeting. Behind her, Mark and Stella followed her. I stood up to greet them, shaking Mark's hand. Tall and muscular, Mark Armstrong was the type to look a person straight in the eyes. He did so now, peering at me with a kind, open expression that reminded me of his daughter. As did his copper-hued hair.

  “You remember Stella," Jennie said, shrugging out of her heavy winter jacket.

  "Nice to see you again.” I held out my hand and for a mortifying second I thought she might ignore me. She stood, as still as a statue, and stared down at my hand. Finally, she blinked and raised her gaze up to mine.

  “Same.” Brown eyes stared up at me, warm but wary from that a pretty heart-shaped face. Her full mouth curved into a tentative smile, as though her lips were out of practice. Nice, full lips and straight teeth. A small, elegant nose. Okay, she was pretty. Very pretty. Not that I was looking at her that way.

  We all settled at the table. Stella took the seat next to me. When she picked up her napkin to set in her lap, I noticed her hands were shaking. My chest ached in sympathy. Jennie had mentioned this was her first night out since her husband left. Having gone through a few breakups myself, I knew how hard it could be to go out instead of huddling under a blanket on the couch watching sad movies.

  While racking my brain for ways to make her feel more comfortable, Jennie suggested we order a pitcher of beer and some hot wings.

  “The wings are already ordered,” I said. “Patsy insisted.”

  “That’s just like her,” Mark said, grinning, as he waved Patsy over. “God bless her.”

  “Good evening.” Patsy placed a dry, reddened hand briefly on Stella’s shoulder. “Nice to see you. You’re looking lovely, as always.”

  “Thanks,” Stella mumbled.

  Soon, we had a pitcher of beer and a tub of hot wings in the middle of the table. Mark and I ordered burgers and the ladies asked for French onion soup and side salads. After Patsy left, Mark poured us all a beer. Jennie slid a few small plates across the table.

  “Ladies first,” Mark said.

  Jennie nodded and scooped a few onto her plate. Stella, however, simply stared at the bucket.

  “Would you like some wings?” I asked Stella.

  She met my eyes for a brief moment. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Too hot for you?” I asked. “My mom hates anything spicy.”

  “No, it’s not that.” Stella looked down at her lap. “I just don’t like them much.”

  “Stella, he’s not here any longer,” Mark said. “You can eat whatever you want.”

  What did that mean? Was he talking about her husband? Had he controlled her eating? Why? She’d blow over in a good wind.

  To my dismay, Stella started to sob. I froze. What should I do? I glanced over at Mark, who looked as surprised and unsure of what to do as I.

  Jennie jumped up from her chair and pulled Stella up and toward the bathroom. “We’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.

  I looked back at Mark. “Is she all right?”

  “Yeah, sure. I mean, kind of. Whenever we were out, Rex never let her have wings because he said they were too messy and therefore unladylike.”

  “Let her?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I know. He was…awful. No one liked him much around here. And everyone loves Stella.”

  “Why did she marry the guy?”

  Mark’s gaze shifted around the room. He lowered his voice and leaned across the table. “She was crazy in love with him. No one could understand why. Lately, though, I could see she was over it. He’d managed to make her miserable enough that she stopped loving him. One time he had the nerve to complain to me that she cared about her boys more than she did him. Idiot, man-child, if you ask me. Anyway, what could he expect? He had multiple affairs. Left her three times. I mean, who does that and expects to be adored? He should have been thankful she took such good care of his sons.”

  “But he aways came back? That’s weird.”

  “Yeah, and she took him back. Also weird.” Mark put his hands up in the air. “Frankly, I don’t get it, but the guy has a mesmerizing effect on women. Even Jennie acted all flushed around him. We used to fight about it sometimes.”

  I thought about that for a moment. Janice had been flirty with one of my friends like that. It had irritated me, just as I’m sure it had Mark.

  “I’ve thought about it a lot over the years,” Mark said. “About Stella and Rex, and all I can say is that she didn’t exactly grow up in a loving household. I don’t know if she’s ever understood how she should be treated.”

  “Sounds like my mom,” I said.

  “Stella's parents were rough on her—didn’t make it easy for her and Rex to make a go of things. Her dad died when she was pregnant with her second son and her mom had them move into the big house on the ranch. Since then, Stella's been running that place alone. They average about a hundred cows at a time, with only a few ranch hands to help. Rex didn’t do much as far as I could tell. Stella's mom died last year but when she was alive she wasn’t what you’d call an emotional support. Super critical of Stella and the boys, even though they’re good kids. But it’s been a rough go of it the last eleven years. I feel for her. Stella’s like family to me. I’d love to see her happy.”

  “The poor woman.” The more I learned about Stella the more I came to admire her. She’d done a lot all on her own.

  The ladies returned right around the same time the rest of our food arrived. As we ate, we chatted about this and that. The weather and some local gossip being the main topics of conversations. They all knew one another so well, yet they didn’t make me feel like an outsider. If anything, peppered with questions, I felt like the center of attention. Had I found Bluefern to my liking? Did I miss California? How did I like my work at the bank? I answered best I could, even sharing with them how lonely it had been since moving here. “I had a lot of friends back in California, and I miss my mom.”

  “What about your dad?” Jennie asked.

  “He left my mother when she was pregnant with me. Mom raised me by herself from the very beginning. I never felt like anything was missing. She’s the best. In fact, I’m trying to convince her to move here but she’s rejected the idea. So far. I’m not giving up.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to cook and clean for a grown man.” Stella's hand wrapped around her beer.

  My stomach clenched. This was a bitter woman. Not that I could blame her. She hadn't had anyone to count on or come through for her. I’d be bitter too.

  “I love to cook,” I said. “So she wouldn’t have to worry about that. In fact, it would be nice to have someone to cook for. It gets lonely at a table for one. My hesitation is about my work. The bank could send me to open a new branch at any point.”

  “Really?” Jennie asked. “You never said that before.”

  “I’d be sure to recommend you take the manager role,” I said. “Should it come to that.”

  “I’m flattered,” Jennie said, beaming. “That means so much. You have no idea.”

  “What about cleaning?” Stella asked, lifting her gaze to look me directly in the eye before taking a swig of beer. “Do you like to clean? Laundry? Yard work?”

  Her accusatory look directed my way was enough to freeze a man from the inside out. “I’m lucky enough to be able to afford a cleaning lady every few weeks, so there’s not much of that to do.” I returned to dipping my fries into ketchup but slid a sideways glance her way.

  Stella grimaced before stabbing a piece of cucumber from her salad with a fork. “That is lucky.”

  We ate in awkward silence for a moment. The food suddenly tasted like sand. Maybe a night out with Stella present wasn’t the best idea Jennie had ever had?

  “What about the weather? Would she be able to deal with the cold in the winter?” Stella asked me in a more polite tone than before. Maybe she felt bad about her rude questions. Whatever it was, I’d take it, just to get past the cringeworthy silence.

  “That keeps a lot of people from moving here,” Stella added.

  “I’m not sure how she’d do,” I said, truthfully. “The Bay Area can be cloudy, but it’s temperate. I put extra insulation in my walls, though. As a selling point.”

  “You should see what he did to that old place,” Jennie said, reaching for one of her husband’s fries. “The kitchen’s out of this world.”

  “I thought that house was haunted,” Stella said.

  “Stella, that’s not true,” Jennie said before looking at me. “It was just a rumor when we were kids. No one ever saw anything weird.”

  “There was a murder there. Everyone knows that.” Stella stabbed another cucumber.

  All right. Stella did not like me. I don’t know what I’d done to offend her but whatever it was, I was sorry.

  “Must be why I got such a deal on it,” I said lightly. I’d already learned about the murder from the real estate agent. They were legally bound to tell potential buyers if anything illegal had taken place.

  “Did you get a good deal?” Stella asked me.

  “You can look it up,” I said, offended. “Public information.”

  Stella waved a fork at me. “What kind of money do bank managers make, anyway?”

  Taken aback, I glanced over at Jennie. She tucked one side of her hair behind her ears and sent me an apologetic smile.

  “Truthfully, not a ton,” I said. “I’ve made it up by buying and renovating houses. Back in the Bay Area, that is. I haven’t done that since I got here. Too busy with my own house.”

  “Why do you work at a bank?” Stella asked. “I mean, it’s not like you’re making the world a better place. Wouldn’t construction pay more and give you more satisfaction?”

  I ground my teeth together before answering. It took everything I had to speak calmly. “Listen, I don’t know what I did to make you mad, but I mean no harm.” I picked up my beer. “I was looking forward to meeting some new people but maybe my instincts were right. I should have stayed home with my cat.”

  Before anyone could say anything further, the band, who had been setting up in a corner of the tavern, started to play a cover of an Alan Jackson tune. Couples immediately flooded the small dance floor.

  “Let’s dance,” Jennie said to her husband. As they rose from the table, she leaned over to whisper something in Stella’s ear.

  “Apparently, I’ve been rude, and I’m sorry.” Stella scooted closer to me. I caught the scent of her flowery perfume and a hint of strawberry that might have been coming from her hair. “I’m acting awful. It’s just that—crying in front of people makes me mad. Mostly at myself, but I take it out on those around me.”

  “Don’t give it another thought.” I couldn’t wait to get out of here and go home to Penny.

  “No, really, I’m sorry. It’s no excuse, but my life’s in shambles. I’m a mess.”

  “Maybe you should cry more often,” I suggested. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “How do you know what I’ve been through?” she snapped, before placing both hands on the table. “Never mind. I know the answer to that question. This here is a small town. And my friends have big mouths.”

  “They care about you, that’s all.”

  She pushed her plate away. Her soup had gone mostly untouched. “I know they do.”

  “Did you not like your food? I could order you something else. Or do you want some of my fries?”

  “This isn’t a date,” she said softly.

  “Does that mean you can’t eat my fries?”

  She lifted her gaze, her eyes so sad it was enough to wipe out her lack of social skills from my memory. “I think so.”

  “I didn’t know that rule. I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget.” I sipped my beer. “I haven’t had a date in a long time.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, moving here for one. There’s not a lot of unmarried women to choose from. But before that, when I was still back in the Bay Area, I had a girlfriend. Long-term girlfriend. She dumped me for a friend of mine.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, it hurt. A lot. I decided to take some time off from relationships after that.” Ironically, it had not been the friend she always flirted with that she’d left me for.

  “Are you over her?” Stella asked.

  “It’s been two years. So yeah.”

  “Is that one of the reasons you moved here?”

  “You ask a lot of questions,” I said.

  “Sorry.” She returned to nursing her beer.

  “It’s not as simple as all that, but let’s just say when Mike offered me the position here, I didn’t hesitate. Fresh start. No chance I’d run into my ex or my former friend.” I took another drink of my beer. “This is embarrassing, but I changed my mobile number when I came here. As if she were going to call me.”

  “She might have. Rex used to leave and come back months later, all sorry and could we try again.”

  “No, she married Drew.” I was surprised to find I could say his name without the stabbing pain it used to evoke. “Janice. That was her name. Janice married Drew.” Good, I thought. I’d said both of their names together and I didn’t die. At one time, it had felt as if I might. “It’s good to have finality, you know? So in that way, I’m glad they married. No chance for reconciliation if they’re married.”

  “You wouldn’t really go back to someone who chose your friend over you?” Stella asked.

  “I can say categorically that I would not. But when it first happened, I’m not sure I could have resisted. Had she come back to me, begging for another chance, I would probably have given in, even though it would not have been in my best interest.”

  “That’s what I did. Three times in total. Not as many times as we have number of kids.” Her mouth twitched, as if she might smile, but in the end, she didn’t.

  “How do you know he won’t come back this time?”

  “Because Monday morning I’m filing for divorce. This time I’m done.” She blinked. “You know, I hadn’t decided that until just the moment I said it.”

  I lifted my glass. “To closure, then.”

  She clinked my glass. “To closure.” This time she did smile, and I thought once more about how pretty she was and what a pity it was that life had turned her a similar taste to this bitter IPA. There might be a chance for her, though. She just needed some time. Someday, she’d be ready to open herself up to love.

  The band started another song. An Emmylou Harris cover. “My mother loves this song.”

  “Do you want to dance?” Stella asked.

  I looked up from studying my beer. “Um, sure. I’m not the greatest dancer that ever lived.”

  “It’s all right. I haven’t danced much in the last eleven years.”

  I stood and offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. We walked together to the closest corner of the dance floor, and I placed one arm loosely around her waist and took her hand with the other. She was stiff in my arms, posture ramrod straight and staying at least a foot away from me. Not that I minded. A man should always respect a woman’s boundaries, plus she was hurting.

  When the song was over, she grabbed my hand and started walking toward the front door. “I need some fresh air.”

  “It’s kind of cold out there.”

  “I don’t care. Buy me a beer. We’ll sit in your truck.”

  “Is that allowed?”

  She took a good, hard look at me. “You’re a rule follower?”

  “For the most part, yeah. I mean, I’m a banker. Compliance is sort of our thing.”

  She nodded, laughing softly. “I’m asking you to buy me a beer and go sit in your truck. Can you do that?”

  “I guess I can.” This was turning into a very strange evening. But who was I to disappoint a beautiful woman? Even if she did scare me.

  9

  Stella

  The lone beer must have gone to my head or I never would have invited Jasper Moon to come outside. To sit in his truck. What had gotten into me tonight?

  I had to admit, it was a nice truck. Smelled of leather and his cologne, which was not hard on the nose. He wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

  Which is why I disliked him immensely.

  Which is why I tried to dislike him immensely. Total, epic fail. He was ridiculously likable.

  Which would explain why I was now in his truck with a bottle of beer in my hand, the stars above us twinkling through the front window. But I never promised anyone, including myself, that I would always be perfectly logical.