It is decidedly dark, decidedly late, and I'm decidedly pissed off when the double set of headlights broach my property line. Really, do I need to explain to you my sense of frustration with myself and this situation before we move forward with this chapter of my story? I hope not. By now, you should know I have spent the past year vacillating. So many times I have wanted to ask Vic for more, more than just friendship but each time I stymie myself. I stop before I start and that hesitation, which is predicated on so many valid reasons, leaves me here tonight in my boxers pacing.

I'm satisfying all the rules for being a fool. Pinning a note I scribbled about an hour ago to the unlocked front door. The note simply says, "Drew, it's unlocked, make yourself at home." It's simple and to the point but not necessarily heartfelt. Truthfully, I am not upset at Vic or Drew I am the real culprit in my dismay.

The next morning to my surprise Drew is awake.

"Mornin' thanks for the use of the couch, Walt. Mind if I shower real quick before headin' out?"

"Not at all. I laid some fresh towels out for you."

"I'll make it quick and have a cup of coffee with you and follow you into town if that's ok."

"Yup"

"Thanks, partner."

Like asking Vic to dinner, Drew makes quick work with me, over coffee.

"Walt, that Deputy of yours is something else."

I just look but don't comment. He continues.

"Walt, you and me, we go back a long time and we are friends." It's more a question there at the end.

"We are." The question was answered with another.

"You run a tight ship, brother, and I don't want to tread on anything that belongs to you so to speak. I am very interested in seeing Vic again, you know outside of work, but I don't want to upset your apple cart."

My sip of coffee is deliberate. "Are you asking my permission?"

"No, not your permission, really. She talked a lot about you last night but she wasn't real clear and damn it Walt, I respect you, and I don't want to be a source of friction."

"Vic is free to do what she wants." Not answering his question.

He looks at me, his hazel eyes full of curiosity, his voice a little deeper, "She did the same thing. Didn't really answer any questions about you. Kinda left it out there for my interpretation."

I study his face for a moment.

He looks a little deeper searching for answers that will never come because there aren't any to give.

"Well, that's that I guess."

"Yup."

"Let's hope the judge woke up on the right side of the bed this morning. Ok, if Vic comes with me to serve the warrant?"

"Yup."

Drew lifts the coffee cup up to his lips and says, "Thanks" before taking a sip. His eyes linger just a bit then down to his cup.

Late that afternoon, my office door closes and the sound forces my head up to face Vic's quick guarded movements, her attempt at aloofness that doesn't pitch quite right; leg jutted out, arms crossed, mouth twisted, not quite sure she should say what's on her mind but she's going with it anyway.

"So, your friend Drew is an interesting guy."

I look away taking an unusual interest in the blinds covering the windows.

"Last night was just dinner Walt," she says as my eyes concentrate on the blinds. My fingers perch on my desk, the others stroke my face as I interweave the connection and once again find myself at a crossroads.

"Vic, really, this isn't any of my business, you know." I say as my fingers drum roll once. I give my best smile and the same fingers fan out bracing my desk but I'm not convinced at my words and neither is she.

"It should be."

"I know"

"Are we going to talk about it"

"It?"

"Yes, it."

I lean forward and run my free hand through my hair smoothing down my wayward locks with the pat of my palm.

"Vic, I don't think it's my place to interfere."

"You never do."

"I want to. Would you believe that?" Her head tilts sideways and she sweeps her hair away.

Rising, my hands are on my hips, she meets me half-way. There aren't any words we are just here, just us, facing each other. I know you want this to be the moment. I want this to be the moment, too. It's not.

"Vic," my hand traverses lightly down her arm, "It's not that I don't think about it." I pause on the it. My eyes lock on hers and its quiet. I hold her at her elbows my palms half on her flesh and half on her uniform shirt.

"I think about you,"I say as my thumb circles her pulse point in her elbow.

I feel her hands move to my hips. We are natural as rain, us, standing here.

My voice is soft, she tilts her velvet eyes and they are clouded over, misty, and waiting. I don't remember, as I tell you this, when or how I knew the time was wrong but I did and I do as I lean forward and instead of kissing her sweet lips I mutter, "I'm sorry," as the tips of her fingers land in the open space of my shirt. I still feel them there when I think about it.

She shakes her head, quietly understanding, and as she pulls away her fingers trace over mine. That's how we leave it. The distance between us widens, though she is just in the other room. Not another word is spoken about it and as the months pass Drew becomes a frequent visitor to my county. On those days, when I know he is in town I make myself scarce. Today is one of those days.

Driving through Durant, I reacquaint myself with familiar fixtures, returning friendly waves and infrequent smiles, putting distance between my heart and my head.

Vic's voice cracks the silence, "Ruby, I'm at the Dixon ranch."

"Copy, Vic."

"What you got, Vic?"

"Family disturbance."

I spin the Bronco around and head toward the Dixon ranch. Not sure what to think of Ruby for not broadcasting the call, not sending me, and for Vic going alone.

The desolate road leads me to old Mazie Dixon's ranch. My dad used to help old Mazie from time to time. Usually when he was running short of hands and needed some work on his horses or livestock. He's always been old, had his only child when he was damn near 60, good for him I guess.

The white truck is perched in front of the main house with the Absaroka County star emblazoned on the side and it's fierce deputy talking to Old' Mazie out front.

"Mazie"

"Walter Longmire is that you?"

"Yup," the old man swayed to a slow rhythm in his rocking chair. The wind chimes bouncing off of each other reminding those in ear shot they were still alive. I take my place next to Vic careful not to take over her line of questioning.

"What brings you to these parts?"

"Just checking on my constituency."

"Ha, I suppose that's right. I did vote for ya."

"Thanks for your vote." I put my foot on the step, lean my hands into my hips, my jacket rests on the blade of my hand. I look over at Vic and back to Mazie. She is beautiful. It's a declaration.

"How you doin' Maze?" Conveniently taking the "I" out of his name.

"Fair to midland. You know since Suz died well I get on if that's what you mean."

"Suppose"

"Get on, yeah." He seemed to trail off a bit remembering the good times of the past but the chimes kicked up and he looked back at me.

Vic closes the distance between us, her shoulder splitting me in half, "Got a call from the grand-daughter. Apparently her father is a drunk and an asshole. Just dumped her here and took off." We haven't been this close to each other since she cleaned the blood from my brow. I miss her. The words stay in my head.

"Young Mazie ever get here to see you?"

"He's down in Denver. Practicin' law. He's a lawyer." He tells me like I couldn't put it together in my own mind but he's gentle with his clarification.

I nod my head. Clearly, he knows young Mazie isn't worth a damn.

The wood creaks under the weight of the feet bearing Lila Mae. She swings the wood screened door open, "Hey Sheriff."

"Lila Mae." My fingers pinch the brim of my hat. A habit forged from manners and respect.

"Sheriff I don't want no trouble."

"Says he's checking on his constituency." Old Mazie, laughs out loud and slaps his thigh at the thought.

I softly smile, "I am."

"I'm sorry I called but my daddy's gone now. It's ok."

"You gonna stay with your grand-dad." I say, acting like its normal for your Dad to abandon you at your widowed grand-father's ranch.

"For a while, I guess"

"How's school?"

"k"

"Still goin?"

"Yeah"

"Get's her brains from her daddy. Don't let her fool ya' Sheriff. Straight A's. Straight smart is my Lila Mae." I look over at Vic for her approval at the turn of the conversation.

"Thanks, gramps." She kisses Old Mazie's forehead, swipes the edges of her hair back in a quick motion careful not to get the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt in the way, and saunters back in the paint chipped house. Vic follows her stepping past ol' Mazie who doesn't bat an eye.

"How's your girl, there, Sheriff."

"Lawyerin"

He slaps his thigh again, "I'll be, durn. Lawyerin'."

"Living, too," I say. Thinking of her commitment to move on past the darkness. The darkness that holds me tight.

Old Mazie's eyebrows wrinkle like a caterpillar, eyes bright, "Livin." He smiles, "That's the ticket."

"If young Mazie comes back, call me, hear?"

"Hear ya' Sheriff. Hear ya."

"ok that Lila Mae is staying here with you?"

"Yes, yes indeed."

Vic nods on her way out letting me know everything checks ok in the house. It's that unspoken rhythm we have. The rhythm I have come to depend on for so many reasons not the least of which is my survival.

Vic moves past me and swings open the door to her pickup, "Sorry, you were drug out here, I could have handled this since you were taking off early." I offer with a slight smile.

"I still have a job to do, Walt." The blade of her hand faces me as she blocks the descending sun from her eyes. The hint of light seeping through illuminates her eyes making them more omniscient that usual.

I nod, my head swinging back toward the house,"She remind you of anyone?" I say kinda soft.

She looks at me, thinking, she knows but doesn't let on all the way, "Maybe." Her voice has a hint of tease and a hint of shyness like she is remembering.

I smile thinking that was Vic at that age. Strong, smart, stubborn, and the beginning of a long line of men she could wrap around her finger.

"All she needs is acceptance and love, right?" The words are just as soft as before but I'm smiling as I say them.

It's her turn to smile and she does, that quick, you're an asshole for remembering look but there is a drop of sadness as she turns back toward her truck and instantly I know in my soul that that's all she really wants it never was about anything else.

My eyes follow her as she hops into the cab of her truck. I catch the door before she closes it shut, lean in, either hand bracing against the door of the frame, and I kiss her. There's nothing unsure about it as she kisses me back. This may not be something I planned but it is something I want, have wanted, and feeling her in my mouth for the first time, she has wanted it too for a very long time.