I had hoped to have this completed and uploaded earlier than this, but being a Chicago Cubs fan has resulted in much of my free time being taken up by watching playoff games over the past three weeks. Cubs finally won (yay!) and I finally finished this chapter.
Walt needed a nap.
It was only a little after eleven in the morning, but the couch to his left looked more and more inviting with each passing hour. With no active case requiring his brain power and attention, he'd been focused on only two things since he'd arrived at the office, and the paperwork in front of him wasn't one of them.
Tucker Baggett looking out at his property and proclaiming that it would soon be a golf resort and residence community continued to send a chill up his spine, and the haunting words slipped in anytime he let his mind drift to the wrongful death suit. That and his looming suspension. He was trying his best to compartmentalize, so he wouldn't drive himself crazy thinking about the possibilities, but it was getting harder as the lawsuit seemed to get more and more out of his control.
But forcing himself to not think about the lawsuit only meant he had more time to think about the other thing on his mind.
Which brought him back to looking over at his couch.
He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, as thoughts of her on the other side of his bedroom door had kept him awake for some time. If he could get some shut-eye, maybe he could quiet his mind for a while. But who was he kidding. He knew his dreams weren't even safe.
A knock brought his gaze from the couch to the door.
Forcing his eyes down to the papers on the desk, he hoped to pull off that he was hard at work. "Come in Ruby."
The door opened, but instead of his receptionist peeking in, he caught a flash of blond hair out of the corner of his eye.
"You busy?"
"Terribly."
She laughed. "I bet."
He pushed back in his chair as he looked up.
"I thought you were taking the day off."
"I am." She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "See, no uniform. And my hair's down."
He took in the rare sight of Vic in shorts before bringing his focus back to her face. "So, what part of 'day off' means coming into the office?"
"Well that part is all your fault."
"My fault?"
Vic walked toward the window and then plopped down on the couch, leaned back into the cushion and stretched out her legs in front of her. "You're the one who suggested I take them on a tour of Absaroka County."
"And you chose the Sheriff's Department as one of your stops?"
"Oh, I didn't choose this stop. I asked them if there was anywhere they wanted to make sure we checked out, and they unanimously picked the office. I just said yes because it meant we could be inside in the air conditioning."
He watched as she folded her arms behind her head.
"How has your morning together been so far?"
"Hot. What the hell is with this early September heat wave?"
He waited.
Her eyes went into an automatic eye roll. "It's been lovely since the moment I got home."
He paused. "Where do they think you stayed last night?"
Her arms fell to her lap. "Oh...uh. I told them I was staying with Cady. They have no idea she's out of town. I, uh...I thought it would be better than telling them I was bunking with you."
He nodded.
She sat up. "And as far as tonight goes, I'll call around. Maybe something opened up at one of the hotels I tried yesterday."
Between the casino and the holiday weekend, Walt doubted it. "You...you can stay at my place again. For the rest of the time your family is here."
"Really?"
"Yep."
She grinned. "I wasn't too much of a pain in the ass, barging in on you last night?"
"Not too much."
"Speaking of pains in the ass..." she stretched and then stood, her hands slipping into the back pockets of her shorts. "They're in the other room, probably driving Ferg and Ruby crazy. Want to pull the band-aid off and get this over with?"
Walt straightened in his chair. "Oh...uh..."
"Come on. They travelled almost two thousand miles to get a look at your bright and shiny face."
"They didn't come to see me."
"They absolutely came to see you." She walked toward the door, her hand resting on the knob. "Remember when you told me that they want to get a glimpse of my life out here. Well, Sheriff, as someone in my life, you're on their radar. My mother has been sneaking in questions about you all morning."
"What kind of questions?"
He was greeted by what could only be called a mischievous smile. "You'll have to find out for yourself. Come on. I told them I'd bring you out. If you take too long, you're just giving my mother a reason to come in. And I'm sure she's dying to see your office."
She gave him a look and then pulled open the door. Extracting himself from his chair, he stood and crossed the room to join her side.
She looked up at him with a wink. "Brace yourself."
The moment they stepped into the other room a hush settled in as the group, standing just inside the low swinging door, turned to look their way.
Ferg stepped forward. "Hey Sheriff. We were just talking about you."
The young deputy looked over at Vic, who stepped into the middle of the room. "Mom. Dad. This is Sheriff Longmire. Walt, these are my parents, Victor and Lena Moretti."
Walt stepped forward with an outstretched hand, which Vic's mother took in hers. Her dark hair didn't do anything to diminish her strong resemblance to her daughter.
"Sheriff."
"Mrs. Moretti, it's good to meet you."
"Lena. Please."
"Walt."
He felt her studying him as her palm remained in his.
Coming to his rescue, Vic placed her hand at her father's elbow and pulled him forward. "Dad, this is Walt."
Lena Moretti finally released his hand and stepped back, her eyes never leaving his face.
Walt extended his hand and felt Victor Moretti's firm grasp.
"Sheriff."
"Chief Moretti."
There were no offers of first names. Walt felt the scrutiny of her father's assessment of him. Victor Moretti was shorter than Walt, but his presence was large.
"Vic's been giving us a tour of your county. How long have you been Sheriff here?"
Walt was fairly certain Vic would have shared this information with her father at some point. "A little over seventeen years."
Victor nodded. "Ah, that's right. Vic mentioned something about an election a while back."
Walt smiled inwardly, recognizing the detective skills at play, both as a fellow lawman and parent. He'd used similar techniques himself.
Vic placed a hand on Walt's arm, directing his attention toward the area in front of the swinging door. "And these two are my brothers, Michael and Victor Junior."
The two men ambled forward, each shaking Walt's hand before stepping back.
Walt saw Michael look around the room. "I didn't expect so much...wood."
Vic's hand went to her hip, which was jutted slightly to the side. Walt briefly wondered if it felt strange to her to be in the office without her holster and badge on her belt.
"I told you this place used to be a library."
"Well...yeah, but our local branch doesn't have this much wood." He glanced behind him. "Or that many steps."
"You're just jealous because your crappy metal desk doesn't have as much character as mine. And clearly your ass is out of shape if you find those stairs tough to clim—"
"What are you working on, Sheriff? Any interesting cases?" It was Vic's mother cutting in as she made her way over to Vic's desk and then looked through the doorway toward his open office.
"Uh...things have been quiet this week."
"Which is a welcome change." Vic came in with a nervous laugh. "With the casino coming in, there's seldom a peaceful moment these days."
Vic walked toward her mother, standing between her and the doorway, blocking her view. "I think we should head out. We don't want to keep these three from their work."
Lena Moretti looked back and forth between Walt and her daughter. "Walt just said that it's a slow day."
"He said it's a quiet day, which isn't the same thing. There's a stack of paperwork he needs to get through, and knowing how things can get around here, there's bound to be a case that falls into his lap at some point. Let's not disturb him any more than we have."
Lena stepped forward until she was standing in front of him, looking up. He noted that she was several inches shorter than Vic. "Walt, would you join us for dinner this evening?"
"Mother!"
Lena ignored Vic's outburst.
"We've already invited the others. Ruby's bringing dessert and Ferg's bringing an appetizer."
Ferg perked up. "Actually, Meg's making the appetizer and I'm bringing her."
Lena's gaze was unwavering, and her resemblance to Vic continued to grow as she held his eyes. "So, what do you say, Sheriff? Care to join us?"
He glanced over at Vic, whose hip was jutted out even further. He could almost see her mentally trying to figure out how she was going to host everyone at her place.
Eyes back on Lena, he nodded. "I'll bring the beer."
Lena graced him with a wide smile. "Six o'clock. We'll be grilling. A pre-Labor Day BBQ, if you will."
Walt nodded again. "Sounds good."
"Do you need Vic's address?"
Walt again smiled inwardly. Lena Moretti possessed some detective skills as well.
"God, mother, they all know where I live. Let's go." Vic marched through the swinging door.
Lena's eyes held his for a moment longer, before following her daughter across the room.
Vic waited at the door, ushering them out, and then turned toward Walt, her eyebrows slanting apologetically. "Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for."
"You say that now, but I feel a need to apologize in advance. For tonight."
"It'll be fine."
She rolled her eyes.
Walt smiled. "What's the next stop on the Absaroka County tour?"
"We're heading over to the Pony for lunch." She paused to look over her shoulder. "I'm surprised my mother hasn't invited you to that as well."
Hearing Vic mention the Red Pony, Walt thought back to his last interaction with Henry.
Vic looked back up at him. "You ok?"
He shook Henry and their strained relationship from his thoughts. "Yep."
She held his eyes for a moment. Yes, there certainly was an undeniable, and unsettling resemblance between mother and daughter. "I'll see you tonight. And again...I'm sorry."
"I'll brace myself."
Vic laughed out loud. "I hope that's enough."
XX
She'd been kicked out of her own home by her mother, who had demanded more room for her meal preparation. Vic didn't think she could take her mother mentioning a lack of counter space one more time, so she didn't mind getting the boot.
With her dad and Victor occupied with getting the grill ready, she'd volunteered to make a run over to her storage unit to pick up more lawn chairs along with her patio table. Michael had offered to go with her, and if it hadn't been for the table she'd have turned him down to get some time to herself, but she knew she'd need some help getting the table into the back of her truck. And one-on-one time with Michael wouldn't be that bad. Her family was more digestible in small increments.
She apologized for the radio selection as soon as she got her truck running, her hand immediately going to the dial in hopes of finding a more respectable song choice. She admonished herself for not keeping a few CDs in her vehicle, and after a futile attempt to find a station that wasn't playing crap or full of static, she turned off the radio completely.
She could tell that Michael was looking at her, but she kept her eyes on the road.
"Everything ok, Vic?"
She glanced over at him. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, you've been kind of quiet since we got here."
"I can't be a little quiet without there being something wrong?"
"You? No."
She slapped the side of his arm. "Well maybe I've changed. Maybe Wyoming has changed me. If you haven't noticed, things go at a different pace in this neck of the woods."
"I know. I'm trying to wrap my mind around you being out here. You haven't gone crazy?"
"It was an...adjustment, but it's not that bad."
Her eyes back on the road, she could still feel his gaze on her.
"You didn't eat a lot at lunch."
"I wasn't that hungry." She'd had a strong wave of nausea she hadn't quiet recovered from by the time they'd arrived at the Pony, and it had taken all her concentration not to let her family in on the fact. She looked over at her brother. "But don't worry. I'll be ravenous by dinner."
She took in his doubtful expression. "And why all the concern for my well-being? When did you stop being so self-centered?"
"I can't show some concern for my sister?"
"You? No."
He laughed heartily. "Maybe I've changed. You've been gone for most of the last few years, and haven't been around to notice."
"Doubtful. Morettis don't change that fast. Or that much."
"Even Morettis can change under the right circumstances."
Vic flashed her eyes in his direction. "Holy shit! Who's the girl?"
He laughed again. "What? I can't change all on my own?"
She gave him a sideways glance.
"There's no girl."
She continued with the pointed look before directing her gaze back out the windshield. "Yeah, I don't believe you."
"Well, then, who's behind your change?"
"My change?"
"You said you've changed since coming to Wyoming, so who's responsible for this quieter, calmer version of Vic?"
"Maybe I've just matured."
"Right."
"I did get divorced a few months ago."
She could feel him assessing her from the passenger seat.
"Nah. Sean's not responsible. If that was the case you'd just be bitter." He paused. "And I've noticed you're swearing a lot less too. The change is definitely not due to Sean."
Vic pulled her truck in front of her storage unit, placed the vehicle in park, and then turned toward him. "You've got to stop it with this overly observant shit. It's freaking me out."
He laughed as he reached for the door handle. "It's only freaking you out because there's something you don't want me to figure out."
XX
She saw him out of the corner of her eye as she placed the cooler closer to the table. Everyone else was absorbed in conversation and hadn't noticed the movement near the front of the RV. Seeing him hovering, she felt frustration swell within her, and with a quick glance at the others, she slipped around the side of the motor home.
"Travis, what are you doing here? You can't be here."
"You're having a party."
"I'm not having a party."
"Why wasn't I invited? We're neighbors."
"First of all, it's not a party, so there's nothing to invite you to. And second of all we're neighbors, not friends, and there are boundaries, Travis."
Travis peeked around the corner of the RV, ignoring her second comment. "It sure looks like a party."
She yanked him back. "It's just some people from work. Not a party."
"I know who you work with. There are people here who are not with the Sheriff's Department."
"Not everyone I've worked with is part of the Absaroka County Sheriff's Department."
Travis puffed his chest out. "Well, I was almost a deputy, so I—"
She rolled her eyes. "You were never even close to being a deputy."
"Well...I still think I could fit in."
Hands on hips, she pursed her lips. "Travis, you can't keep your trap shut. I can't risk you blabbing your mouth off in front of these people, sharing...things...that you shouldn't be sharing."
"I won't. I can keep a secret. I've kept your secret so far."
"That's only because you haven't been around anyone to tell it to."
"Well...I didn't tell my mom. Even though she was pissed I moved out and demanded to know the reason why."
"You did NOT move out because of me."
Travis looked a little flustered. "No. Of course not. But still, I haven't told her."
She ran a hand across her face, before crossing her arms. "Travis, you need to leave. Now. I mean it."
Travis matched her pose. "Fine. Maybe I'll go and invite some neighbors over and have my own party."
"Go ahead."
Travis turned and almost ran in to Walt. "Of course you got invited. No surprise there." Travis threw his arms in the air and stormed off.
Walt watched him for a moment and then turned toward her. "What was Travis doing here?"
"Oh...uh, he lives a few units down, and was just passing by."
Walt turned toward the direction Travis had headed. "Travis lives here? I thought he lived with his mother."
"He did. Until recently. Now, I guess, we're kind of neighbors."
"Has he been bothering you? Do you need me to talk to him?"
"Travis. No. You know him. He's just over exuberant some times. Ok, a lot of the time. He helped me fix the RV, and now I think he thinks we're friends. I'm working on boundaries with him. But he's harmless."
Walt was looking at her like he was trying to read if there were more to the situation. She pointed to the boxes in his arms. "Let's get those in to the fridge."
XX
With the bottle cool in his hands, Walt eased himself in to the lawn chair. The day's lingering heat was still intense, and the sun in the cloudless sky had not yet set. Bringing the beer to his lips, he watched Vic's father explain his BBQing technique to Ruby, who was sipping ice tea as they stood together at the grill.
A shadow moved over him, and he turned his head to find Lena Moretti standing slightly to his right.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all." He stood up to pull over a chair, but she beat him to it.
He gestured toward the cooler. "Would you like a beer?"
"I'm fine. Please sit."
He sank back into his chair.
"The boys seem to be enjoying swapping stories with your deputy."
Walt nodded as he looked over to the picnic table where Ferg and his girlfriend sat with Vic's brothers. "I bet you've heard more than your fair share of stories over the years, what with your husband and three of your children going into law enforcement."
She nodded. "I knew what I was getting into when I married Victor. The stories started on our first date, and haven't ceased since."
He grinned as he brought his beer to his lips. "Vic's told me a story or two of her Philadelphia cop days."
Lena looked over at him. "That's good to hear. She doesn't talk much about those days with us anymore..." She paused. "I'm assuming she told you about how things ended at the Philadelphia police department for her."
He took another sip and then nodded. "Yep."
"At least she tells us about her current job. Or some of it, anyway." She peered over at him. "Should I be worried?"
"Worried?"
"That she seems selective in what she shares with us."
He bowed his head slightly. "My daughter is the same way. I think they feel they need to protect us. Or maybe they're just trying to show their independence." Lifting his head, he saw concern etched in Lena's eyes. "But nothing for you to worry about in regards to Vic. She can more than handle anything that's thrown her way."
"That's what I'm most worried about. That she thinks she can handle...everything...herself."
He glanced over at the RV. Vic hadn't returned yet since stepping inside the vehicle a few minutes ago.
"But it's good to know who she works with. Helps put a mother's mind at ease."
"Ruby is fiercely protective. Your daughter's in good hands."
Lena laughed lightly as she looked over at Ruby and her husband. "I bet she is. Sounds like she's been looking after you and the previous sheriff for years."
"That she has."
Lena's eyes again returned to him. "How is my daughter doing? As I mentioned, I don't think we get the whole picture from her."
Walt looked down at the bottle in his hands. "It's been a tough year for Vic..."
"With the divorce?"
Walt nodded.
"And one of your deputies dying?"
Again he nodded.
And Chance Gilbert. And Gorski. And Jacob Nighthorse and his casino. And the friction between Vic and Branch prior to his death. Not to mention Walt's own obsessive behavior. But looking over at Lena, he didn't want to worry her further by pouring more gasoline on the fire.
"But Vic's been handling it."
Lena scoffed at his statement. "By buying herself an RV?"
The corners of his mouth lifted, and again he looked over at the motor home. "I admit I was a little surprised as well, but I think Vic just wanted a change, and a little independence."
"There are other ways to get both those things."
"Your daughter likes to do things her own way."
Lena laughed. "And once she makes her mind up...there's no holding her back."
"That's part of what makes Vic...Vic. And it makes her loyal...which is a rare commodity these days."
He could see Lena watching him closely out of the corner of his eye. "Her loyalty. Is that why she's still here?"
Walt turned his head in Lena's direction. "Why she's still here?"
"Victor and I have been trying to determine why Vic stayed in Wyoming after things ended with Sean. I'm not sure if you know, but she wasn't thrilled to be moving out here. And when the reasons for her being out here...no longer seemed to be...reasons for her needing to stay, we expected her to want to come home. But she hasn't even brought it up."
"Is that why you're here? Are you trying to figure out what's keeping Vic in Durant?"
"Or who."
"Or who?"
"The person, or persons, she feels so much loyalty to, that she's chosen to stay." She held his eyes. "Or maybe her staying is about more than loyalty."
Walt thumbed the corner of the beer label on the bottle in his hands. "Vic hasn't talked to me about why she decided to stay." In fact, he was surprised by it himself most days, if he were being honest. And if he were being honest, he'd also admit it was also one of his greatest fears. That she would decide to leave.
"Is there anyone Vic's particularly close to? Anyone she's dating?"
"Dating?"
"Is Vic seeing anyone?"
He thought back to Vic telling him that she was no longer involved with Eamonn.
"Uh...not that I know of."
"I saw her talking to a man earlier. In front of the RV. You seemed to know him."
"Travis? No, she's not seeing Travis."
"What about the owner of the bar Vic took us to eat lunch at? Henry. Could Vic be involved with him?"
"Vic and Henry? No."
"You sure? You know him well?"
"Since I was eleven years old."
"He was charming and attentive."
"Henry is that way with almost everyone. Especially new female customers."
She still looked doubtful.
"Plus, Henry has been too busy these last months to be involved with anyone."
"And there's no one else you can think of?"
He shook his head. "But I'm not privy to all the details of Vic's personal life, so the best person to ask would be her."
"I already tried that approach."
"Staunch denial?"
"The staunchiest." At his smile, she laughed. "Real word. Look it up."
"Will I only find it in Philadelphia dictionaries?"
"Actually, in dictionaries written by Italian-American mothers with stubborn, strong-willed daughters."
"My daughter can be that way too, so I might need to borrow that dictionary."
She smiled. "Usually daughters get that from at least one of their parents."
Walt pointed at her with an arched eyebrow. She laughed as she nodded. "Although I'd never admit it if asked by any of my family members."
Walt directed a thumb at himself. "Not only did I role model those traits for Cady, I'm a genetic carrier. Being stubborn and strong-willed run in the Longmire line."
Lena rested her head against the back of the chair, and the two silently watched the rest of the group for a moment.
"I'll take that beer you offered earlier."
Walt nodded, rose and claimed the last Rainier in the cooler. Removing the lid, he handed it to her.
Looking up at him, she tipped the bottle back and then swallowed. "I hear you own a horse?"
He slid back into his chair. "Yes."
"Did you grow up with horses?"
"Yes. My father was a farrier."
She tilted her head in his direction. "We're thinking about going horseback riding tomorrow. Would you like to join us?"
"Oh...um..."
"I'm sure Vic would prefer that you come. You could be a buffer." At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "I know my daughter well."
He watched her take another swig, before resting the bottle on the arm of the chair, her eyes on the RV.
XX
Walt stepped into the RV, relieved by the air-conditioned air that hit him the moment he opened the door. Vic wasn't in sight, but the closed door at the rear of the RV indicated she was likely in the bathroom. He turned further to his left and opened the fridge, greeted by an even colder blast of air. Closing his eyes, he let the cool air wash over him for a moment, before reaching in and pulling out a beer.
He heard the bathroom door open, and turned to see Vic emerge. He held up a bottle. "Want one?"
She shook her head. "I'm still working on mine."
He closed the refrigerator door and stepped back so she could pass. He watched her make her way to the sink, where she picked up her bottle and took a swig, before turning and leaning against the counter.
"I was getting worried about you. You've been in here a while. Hiding out?"
"Yes." She lifted the bottle to her lips again before placing it down on the counter. She pointed at the sink behind her, which was loaded with dishes submerged in soapy water. "Plus someone's got to do the dishes."
He watched her turn, wash and rinse off a plate, and then grab a nearby towel to dry it off. As she reached to put it away, he stepped forward and put down his beer.
"Let me help. I'll wash. You can dry since you know where everything goes."
Stepping aside, her eyebrow arched. "Are you hiding out too?"
He plunged his hands into the warm water. "Just taking a break."
"See. I warned you about my family."
He lifted the sponge. "A break from the heat."
He rinsed a bowl and she took it from his hand. "Right. The heat." She looked at him for a moment before drying the dish and placing it in one of the cabinets. "Was it my mother or my father who was bringing the heat?"
He laughed. "Your mother."
"Oh my God, what did she ask you?"
"That is between me and my inquisitor."
"Seriously. What inappropriate things was she asking you?"
He handed her some silverware. "You never told me what questions your mother asked you this morning, so I think we're even."
She bumped his side with her hip. "That's not fair."
He chuckled as he pulled a serving dish out of the water and began to scrub it. Sensing Vic was looking at him he turned his head. Her eyes lifted from his shirt to his face.
"I noticed you spruced yourself up this evening. Trying to impress my mother?"
"I didn't spruce myself up."
"Um...that looks like a new shirt, and I haven't seen you this clean-shaven since...since you first started seeing Donna. Oh my God, you are trying to impress my mother!"
"I'm not—"
"And your denial means nothing, since you denied you were trying to impress anyone back then as well."
He turned and handed the serving dish to her. "I am NOT trying to impress your mother."
"Uh huh." She took the dish and dried it, a smile growing on her face, and then placed her palm on his chest. Surprised by the action, he looked down at her hand. But before he could question its presence there, she lightly pushed him back, and then turned and placed the serving platter above the fridge once he was out of the way. When she turned back around, they were facing each other, in the small space between the stove and the refrigerator.
"I can't get a read on whether it's working?"
"Whether what's working?"
She fingered his sleeve before dropping her hand. "Whether she's impressed."
"I'm NOT trying to impress her."
"Which is why it could be working."
He paused. "She did just invite me to go horseback riding with all of you tomorrow."
Vic hung her head as she let out a sigh. "Ugh. I can't believe her." Her eyes lifted and settled on his. "Sorry. You don't need to...you've already been kind enough to join us tonight. You don't need to give up more of your weekend to hang with the Morettis."
He rubbed the back of the neck. "It's ok."
Her eyebrow rose.
He shrugged. "I already accepted."
"I can make an excuse for you."
"Do you not want me to come?"
She straightened. "Oh. No. I...believe me, it would be easier if you were there. I'm just giving you an out, if you want one."
"Then it's ok. I'll be there."
She looked warmly at him for a moment, and then blinked. "Do you want some coffee?"
"It's a little too hot out for coffee."
"Right. Another beer?"
"Just got one from the fridge."
She nodded.
"Well, we should probably get back out there."
"Before anybody else figures out you've been hiding?"
She laughed. "I haven't been hiding. I was doing the dishes."
"Actually I was doing the dishes. You were drying. Purely a stalling tactic on your part, if you ask me."
Her hand pushed lightly against his chest. "Stop. You're supposed to be on my side."
"I find it best not to take sides when it comes to the Morettis."
She grinned. "You haven't even known them a day, how do you know what's best?"
"I know one of them quite well. And you and your mother seem to be cut from the same cloth. So probably safest to stay neutral."
She stepped forward. "You think it's safest to stay neutral?"
This time it was his turn to grin. "Yep."
She tapped his chest. "Well, we'll see if you're still singing that tune after going horseback riding with my family tomorrow. Morettis out of their element can put the pressure on anyone."
"Looking forward to it. I remember your last time around a horse, so it should definitely be interesting seeing five Morettis outside their comfort zone."
Her eyes widened. "Is that why you actually agreed to go? You want to see me on a horse?"
He shrugged, doing little to mask his smile.
And then she was close, looking up at him, a gleam in her eye. "Well, watch out. I just might surprise you."
He must have reacted to her closeness when their chests lined up, because her expression suddenly changed. But instead of stepping back, she leaned in and touched her lips to his. The pressure was brief, and she was already pulling away before he truly registered what was happening.
Still standing close, she looked up at him. "Sorry. Just seeing if you'd stay neutral if I surprised you—"
Maybe it was because he hadn't stayed neutral. Maybe it was because she could sense that his body had gone on alert. Maybe it was because he didn't pull back. But instead of stepping further away, she lifted up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his again. And this time it registered, and he leaned in to her. Her arms slid around his waist, and then his arms followed suit, wrapping around her back. Her lips were soft, and warm, and eager, and he pulled her closer in response.
He heard the laughter at the same time she must have, and then felt her stiffen. They pulled apart, breaking the seal their mouths had formed and dropping their arms slightly, but their faces hovered close. At the second, louder laugh, they both stepped back.
Lena Moretti's voice came clearly through the closed door. "I'll grab some more, and see what those two are up to."
Vic quickly pivoted and stepped toward the sink. Walt grabbed his beer from the counter, and stepped back against the fridge, bringing the bottle to his lips just as the door opened.
Lena glanced between the pair as she stepped into the vehicle. "Hey you two. Everyone's wondering if you bailed on us."
Vic lifted a dish from the water as she turned toward her mother.
"Walt was just keeping me company as I cleaned up in here. With so little counter space, I thought it best to not let the dishes pile up."
Lena's eyes travelled over to Walt, who tipped his bottle toward her in response before taking another sip.
After a moment Lena shifted her gaze back to Vic. "Well, the cooler is empty, and I thought it might be time to serve Ruby's cookies."
Vic dried her hands on the towel before hanging it on the door handle to the oven. "Sounds good to me. I'll grab the cookies, and Walt can bring out the beer."
Walt watched Vic claim her bottle from the counter, and then walk over to the table and pick up the container Ruby had brought. Without looking back at them, she exited the RV, a warm blast of air hitting him before the door banged shut.
XX
Vic was starting to get nervous.
No, that wasn't quite true. Vic was already nervous.
In the time since the three of them had emerged from the RV, Walt had not made eye contact with her once.
He had handed out beers, and placed the remainder in the cooler before taking the open seat by Ruby, the chair furthest from hers.
He had accepted a cookie from her as she walked around with the open container, but hadn't looked up.
And he had engaged in conversation with the group, but not directly with her.
Vic started to peel the beer label on the bottle in her hands. The bottle that no one seemed to notice was the same bottle she'd been holding all evening. The bottle whose contents she had dumped and replaced with water, so her beverage choice wouldn't look suspicious to those who knew how much she liked beer.
"Vic!"
Startled, Vic looked up at Michael, who had called out her name. "What?"
"It didn't seem like you noticed, but some of your guests are leaving."
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Vic looked over at Walt. Sure enough, he was standing, as was Ruby, with her father in front of them, shaking their hands.
She placed the bottle on the cement near her feet, and rose, but stayed by her chair.
"You're leaving already?" It was her mother, returning from the RV.
Walt stepped forward. "It's getting late."
Her mother looked down at her watch. "It's not even nine o'clock.
"Yes, but it's two hours later for you, since you're probably still on East Coast time."
Ruby waved goodbye to Vic's brothers. "I'm sorry Lena, but I need to get home. I have early morning plans with my niece."
Picking up the cookie tin from the patio table, Vic joined Ruby's side. Ruby slid her hand around Vic's waist as they walked toward the parked cars, and lightly squeezed. "Thank you for having us over, Vic. It was wonderful spending time with your family."
Vic could see Walt a few feet from Ruby's left side, but he was conversing with her mother and staring directly in front of him. Unable to hear what they were talking about, she tried to focus on Ruby. "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Ruby." She lifted the container in her hands. "And thanks for bringing the cookies."
"Keep those. I made enough so there'd be extras for you."
"Oh, Ruby, you don't need to—"
"I insist." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "You've had quite the appetite at the office lately, so having some homemade treats on hand is probably a good thing. You probably haven't done much cooking in your new place yet."
Vic blushed, hoping Ruby's observation skills hadn't picked up on any other reasons for the recent changes in her eating habits.
Ruby dropped the arm she'd had around Vic as they neared her vehicle. Walt stepped forward, held open the driver-side door and helped Ruby get in. She looked up at the three of them, her eyes settling on Vic's mother. "Thanks again for the delicious dinner."
Her mother smiled down at Ruby. "You're welcome."
Walt closed the door and stepped back. They watched as Ruby waved at them through the window and then pulled away.
And now it was just the three of them, standing at the curb below the street light.
Her mother looked back at the group at the picnic table, and Vic briefly followed her gaze. She turned to find Walt looking at her. He dropped his eyes and started walking toward the Bronco. Her mother turned back toward them, and they followed him across the road.
Arriving at the side of his truck, he opened the door, and then paused, his eyes skimming over hers and then landing on her mother's. "Thanks for dinner."
Her mother placed her hand on his arm. "Thank you for joining us, Walt. I know Vic thinks we were being intrusive by inviting all her co-workers, so thank you for humoring us."
Vic rolled her eyes, but Walt just smiled. "That's a parent's job. To be intrusive."
Her mother laughed. "Yes, it is."
She stepped forward to hold Walt's door open wider. "Vic will call you when we've finalized our plans tomorrow."
There was a pause, and then he looked over at Vic, holding her gaze for the first time. Her breath caught. Was he going to turn down the offer to join them horseback riding?
"Ok." He nodded at Vic and then lowered himself into the driver's seat.
Her mother closed the door, and waved when he looked up. He waved back, and then put the truck in drive and pulled forward. Vic watched the Bronco until it turned right and disappeared from sight.
She turned to find her mother looking at her curiously. "What?"
XX
The porch light was on, but she didn't know if she should take that as a good sign. He could have just forgotten to turn it off.
Cutting the ignition, she continued to stare at the light. He would have heard her truck approach. He had the night before, coming to the door when she lingered on his porch, unsure of whether to knock. Tonight, she waited, but he didn't make an appearance in the doorway.
Maybe the light hadn't been left on for her. Maybe he'd forgotten he'd offered up his couch. Or regretted having done so. Or maybe he had left it on intentionally, and he was sitting on the other side of the closed door, frozen in his seat like her, wondering why she hadn't knocked yet.
Slowly she reached down to her hip and unfastened her seat belt. Breathing in deeply, she reached over and grabbed her backpack, and then exited the vehicle.
She walked the path, and then climbed the stairs. She lifted her hand to knock and then saw that the inner door had been left ajar. Pulling back the screen door, she pushed the front door open.
"Hello?"
Her question rang out, greeted by silence.
Stepping in, her eyes immediately went to Walt's bedroom door, which was closed. The kitchen was dark, the only light coming from a lamp on the nearby end table. She turned the outside light off, and then stepped forward and shut the door behind her.
It was then that she saw a pile of folded sheets and blankets sitting on the couch, and when she turned she noticed that the window near the desk was open, and a fan had been placed on the desktop, its blades rotating. All of this seemed to confirm he still expected her to come.
"Walt?"
Again no response.
Dropping her bag on the floor, Vic lifted the bedding and moved it to the coffee table, before proceeding to make up her bed. When she completed the task, she again looked over at his door. It was still closed, with no sound coming from behind it.
Maybe he had gone to bed, unwilling to confront her, given what had happened between them in her kitchen.
Vic lifted her bag and pulled out what she was going to sleep in. With another glance at his door, she changed into the cotton shorts. She had just finished pulling on the t-shirt when the bedroom door opened and Walt stepped out. He was also wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and was running a towel over his wet hair. When he lifted his head and saw her, he paused, clearly surprised by her presence in the cabin.
He dropped his hand holding the towel.
"I didn't realize you were here."
She directed her thumb toward the door. "The door was open."
He nodded.
"I called out, when I came in, but you didn't answer so I assumed you had gone to bed."
"I was in the shower." He paused. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"
"Uh...no. I used the one at my place before coming over."
He looked over at the front door, seemingly lost in thought, and Vic wondered if he was reconsidering letting her stay over.
"If it's not ok that I stay here, I can figure something else out."
Walt's eyes focused back on her, looking somewhat startled. "Oh...no it's fine."
He looked around. "I know it's a bit warm still. I hope the open window and fan help."
She looked over at the desk, nodding. "Wait. What about you? Won't you need the fan? Or shouldn't you at least keep your bedroom door open so you can get some air circulating in there?"
"Door? Oh...uh, no. I have another fan in there with me."
"Ok."
Walt gave another glance around. "Ok...I'll, uh...I'll see you in the morning."
He then walked over to his room, pausing briefly in the doorway but not turning around, and then stepped in and closed the door behind him.
Vic stood there for a moment, staring at his closed door as she ran her hand through her hair.
Shaking her head, she walked over to the end table to turn off the lamp. Feeling her way back to the couch through the dark, she found her pillow and collapsed on to her back. Without pulling back the blanket or sheets, she stared up at the ceiling.
She could hear the fan. And the open blinds shifting in the breeze. And the crickets outside.
Shit.
Where was his easy playfulness from earlier?
Things had been going well between them recently, but now things were awkward. Had that kiss messed things up?
She could see shapes start to emerge as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Turning her head to look toward his bedroom, she found everything silent and still in that corner of the cabin.
Shifting to her other side, her back to the bedroom door, she sighed.
It was going to be a long night.
XX
Grey streaks of light were filtering through the blinds, finally announcing that morning was here.
She didn't know how long she'd been awake. It had been dark when her eyes had first opened, and she had looked up at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep, for some time.
Unlike the previous morning, Walt had not emerged from his bedroom to make coffee. She silently hoped that his reason for not coming out yet was because he was sleeping in, since it was the weekend, and not because he was staying in the safety of his bedroom hoping to avoid her.
She sat up, and then taking the elastic from her wrist, put her hair up in a ponytail, a yawn escaping as she leaned into the back cushion.
She could escape, leaving before he got up, to avoid further awkwardness between them, but she wasn't ready to go back to the RV, and her family, this early.
She could make a run for coffee, but nothing open at this hour was close.
She could wait here on the couch until he woke up, and then confront the situation with him directly, but there was too much uncertainty in regards to how that conversation could go, and she didn't know if she was ready for it.
So she reached into her backpack and pulled out her running clothes.
Once changed, she glanced over in the direction of the bedroom, before tiptoeing her way across the room. She did her best to open the front door as quietly as possible and slip outside.
Out on the porch, she squatted down, blowing at a few strands of hair that slipped in front of her eyes, as she tied her laces.
Using the railing for balance, she stretched her hamstrings, and quads, and calves, and then turned her attention to her arms. Throughout the stretches, she looked out at the view in front of her in wonder. She hadn't been lying yesterday. It really was beautiful out here.
She walked to the top of the stairs, ready to start her run, when she remembered she'd left her phone, earbuds and armband inside.
She whipped around, yanked open the screen door, and almost ran into Walt, who was standing in the doorway, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, and wearing the running shoes he'd worn the previous morning.
They both paused, startled by the other's presence.
His hand went to the back of his neck as a slow smile broke on his face. "Can I join you?"
