Jenny Cussler's Last Stand (34 page)

“That’s okay,” Clint’s father said as he shook Kate’s hand. “It was my father’s ceremonial regalia and his father’s before him. We tend to pass these things down. You should see what today’s fancy dancers are wearing. Now those are some outfits!” He smiled.

Jenny excused herself and pretended to head for the restroom, but she veered off and headed for the open field behind the cabins. As she reached the edge of it, she realized the lights of the camp did not extend this far, and she could not see. Longing to find the solace of her log, she determined to find her way in, but a few tentative steps told her she was not going to be able to find her footing in the dark.

Desperate for a few minutes to process all that Clint’s father had said, she turned back toward the camp with the intention of heading to the van for a few quiet moments.

“Whoah,” Clint said as he grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “I wondered where you went.”

“Clint! You scared me. What are you doing here? Why aren’t you drumming?” She squinted to see his face in the darkness.

Clint softened his grip on her shoulders but didn’t let her go.

“I’m taking a break,” he said. “I asked Kate where you were, and she said she thought you’d gone to the bathroom. You’re quite a long way from the restroom. What are you doing out here in the dark, honey?”

The use of the endearment brought Jenny near to tears.

“Oh, just trying to get away from the crowds,” she lied. “Frankly, I’m tired. I think I’ll head back to the van to get some sleep.”

“So early?” Clint asked. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong, Jenny?”

To Jenny’s relief, he lowered his hands from her shoulders. She struggled to remain still, to keep herself from rushing off to lick her wounds.

“Nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a long week,” she said. She shoved her hands into her pockets.

Clint took a step back. Jenny bit her lip. She couldn’t bear to hurt him. She just couldn’t bear it.

“I saw my father talking to you,” Clint said in a gruff voice. “Did he say something to upset you?”

“No, no,” Jenny said in her best reassuring voice, grateful that Clint could not read her face. “No, he’s very nice. He loves you.”

Clint nodded. “Yes, he does.” He took a step forward and raised his hand as if to caress her face. Jenny flinched, and Clint dropped his hand.

“I’m sorry, Clint. I’m just so tired,” she whispered. “I really need to go.” She rushed past him, stumbling in the darkness. “Don’t come after me. I really want to be alone. I’m just tired,” she threw over her shoulder without looking back.

“Jenny,” Clint called behind her. She heard the break in his voice but didn’t turn around.

To avoid Clint following her, she hurried toward the shower room. Luckily, it was empty, and she ran into a bathroom stall. She pushed herself into the corner by the door and sagged as she pressed her fists to her face to stifle a need to cry out. The pain was almost unbearable. No, she corrected herself. It
was
unbearable. Her throat ached with smothered sobs. Her stomach clenched as if she could keep her grief inside by the sheer will of her abdominal muscles.

She had to let him go. She had to stop pretending there was a solution for them. She couldn’t ask him to give up his life to return to Boise with her. She couldn’t do that to him. The memory of his father’s grave expression seemed ever present.

His father was right. Clint belonged here. This is where he was happiest. He’d already told her he didn’t think he could live in Boise, back when they first met.

Jenny dropped her hands to wrap her arms around her aching stomach, rocking herself. She would have given anything in the world to be curled up in her bed at home, buried under the covers, her face pressed against her pillow. How could she possibly survive the night?

For she knew she would say goodbye to him tomorrow...and mean it. She imagined his face as she stoically said goodbye to him. He wasn’t stupid. He would understand what she meant. Not “See you later.” Not “See you in a month.” But “Goodbye.”

The future looked bleak, emptier than she could ever have imagined. She’d been lonely when she left Boise, but she wasn’t absolutely sure that she might not actually die of loneliness when she returned. Loneliness in the absence of love was tolerable. She’d learned to live with it. But loneliness worsened by the exquisite pain of yearning for what she could never have? A sob broke from her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

Desperate to block out the thoughts of the emptiness before her, she began to hum to herself, only barely realizing it echoed the sound of the singing coming from the community area. Had Clint returned to the drumming?

Female voices startled her as the bathroom door was opened. Jenny straightened. She couldn’t very well stand about in the stall forever. She would have to leave eventually. And it sounded like Clint might have returned to the powwow.

Jenny pulled open the door and crossed over to the sink to wash her hands. The women, whoever they were, were in the stalls talking to each other across the dividers. Jenny splashed some cold water on her face as she mulled over her immediate options.

She would have to sleep in the dormitory tonight. It was the only way to prevent Clint from trying to talk to her again. As the toilets flushed, she scooted over to the exit to avoid meeting anyone. Her face was flushed, more from the effort of holding back her tears than from crying.

She pulled open the door and stepped outside into the cool night air.

“Jenny! I need to talk to you.” Clint waited for her at the bottom of the steps. Her heart dropped.

“I’m tired, Clint,” she sighed as she attempted to pass him. “Can’t we talk tomorrow?”

Clint took hold of her arm and turned her around to face him.

“No,” he said in an uncharacteristically angry tone. “It can’t wait. What’s going on?”

In those few seconds, Jenny mulled over what seemed like a thousand things she could have said.
Nothing. I’m tired again. I don’t feel well. I love you. Everything’s great, see you in the morning.
But her counselor’s soul told her it was wrong to continue to dissemble...to pretend. Especially with Clint. He deserved honesty.

Knowing the women would be coming out of the bathroom soon, she grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the steps...farther into the darkness between the bathroom and the dormitories.

She stopped and turned to face him, attempting to pull her hand from his, but he held onto it. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but she could feel a slight tremor in his hand...or perhaps it was her hand shaking.

“What’s going on, Jenny? Something has happened. Was it my father?”

Jenny heard the anxiety in his voice. She had no doubt he was infatuated with her. Maybe he was really in love with her. But there didn’t seem to be a way for them to be together.

“It’s just that I realized I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m going back to Boise, to my own life.” She managed to free her hand from his. “You have your life here, and I have mine in Boise. I don’t think we have a future together. I don’t see how.” To her own ears, Jenny’s voice sounded much more calm than she felt. The cover of darkness helped, though. She couldn’t see his face—and he couldn’t see hers.

“We can work around that, Jenny. I’m not ready to say goodbye to you. I can’t,” he said firmly.

“Clint…” she began. Her throat ached, and tears finally managed to escape down her cheeks. “This has been a wonderful, wonderful week. With you. Here at camp. But we’re high on a mountain in a magical place where the air is thin and passions seem to run high. It’s a very mystical and spiritual place. And maybe you and I have been caught up in the emotion of it all.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he almost barked. He grabbed her hands, apparently having no trouble seeing in the dark. She was reminded of her panther.

“I love you,” he said in a husky voice. “I’ve been on this mountain plenty of times before, and I’ve never fallen in love before. Here or anywhere else.” He squeezed her hands, gently. “Don’t do this to us, Jenny. Please don’t do this. Don’t walk away from this...from us.”

“I don’t know how we can be together. I can’t take you away from here. I can’t ask you to leave. You already said you could never live there.” A sob escaped from Jenny’s throat.

“But you can come here, Jenny. I can take care of you. I make enough money for both of us. And maybe you could get a counseling job in town. They have a small VA office here locally.”

Jenny stiffened.

“Here?” she choked out. As soon as she said the word, she could have kicked herself. Everything she felt about living on the reservation escaped in that one word, and she could not disguise the incredulity in her voice. Clint released her hands slowly and stepped back.

His voice was deep when he spoke.

“Yes, here,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing wrong with this place. This is my home. This is where I come from. Everything I am comes from this reservation.”

“I’m sorry, Clint. I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did. I know you love it here.” Jenny was thankful she could not see his expression.

“Unfortunately, I think you said a lot in that one word.” Clint took another step back. “The thing is, Jenny, whether I went to Boise, or you came here, nothing would change the fact that I’m Indian. That I come from a reservation.” He paused for a moment. “You know, at first I thought you were interested in me
because
I was Indian. And that worried me. But now... I don’t know what to think.”

She thought she saw him shake his head. Jenny crossed her arms and hugged herself tightly.

“I-I don’t know what I’m thinking, Clint. I just don’t know.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out, Jenny Cussler. Let me know when you do.” Clint swung on his heels and strode away, not toward the powwow but toward the cabins.

Jenny bit her lips to keep from crying out. There was nothing she could say at the moment. She had no doubt that she loved him. But love didn’t seem like enough at the moment.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I don’t see him anywhere,” Kate said as she returned to the fully loaded van. All the luggage was on board. Tim and Brad leaned against the van, waiting.

“That’s okay, Kate,” Jenny said listlessly. “I know you probably wanted to say goodbye. He’s angry with me.” She scrunched her forehead and rubbed it as if she could rub the headache away. “No, he’s disappointed in me.”

“Come on, ladies. Let’s get going,” Brad said as he walked around to the driver’s side. Kate patted Jenny’s arm in sympathy and climbed into the van. Jenny took one last look around the camp. Some campers dragged or carried bags from the cabins toward the parking area. Others exchanged goodbyes with their families. She couldn’t see Clint anywhere.

She climbed into the van and toward the very back.

“Where are you going?” Kate asked as she turned to follow Jenny’s progress.

“I’m going to sleep...all the way back. It’s the only way I’ll ever get through this trip.” She pushed a bag off the last bench and threw herself in.

Brad started the engine and backed the van up to turn it around. Jenny tried to close her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch the camp fade into the distance, but she couldn’t. She turned to stare out of the rear window, desperately searching for one last glimpse of Clint. She didn’t even have a photograph of him. She should have gotten a photograph of him.

Dust from the road blew up behind the van, partially obscuring her view. She strained to see through the brown haze.

There! There he was. He stood in the middle of the field, watching them as they drove away. She couldn’t see his face. He was too far away. But she knew it was him by the way he stood—tall and erect, his black hair shining in the sun.

She pressed her hand against the glass. “Goodbye, Clint,” she whispered. “Goodbye.”

She turned around and saw Kate watching her with sympathy. Jenny gave a slight shake of her head, closed her eyes, pulled her legs up beneath her and tucked herself as tightly as she could into the corner of the van, covering her face with an outstretch arm.

It had all really been a wonderful dream, hadn’t it? A magical, enchanting week on a beautiful snow-capped mountain, falling in love with a tall, dark-haired, handsome man who loved her.

But they had no future together. He would not come to her, and she could not come to him.

Jenny allowed the waves of grief to run through her body in silence. It did no good to fight the pain. It was best to let it run its course. She longed for the time—months or even years into the future—when it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Someday...

****

Clint cradled the phone back onto the receiver and leaned back in his chair with his arms outstretched behind his head. How many times had he picked up the phone to call Jenny over the past few months since he’d watched her drive away from the camp? Twenty? Thirty? He stared morosely at the phone. And that was only while she might have been at work. Didn’t even count nights or weekends. He couldn’t imagine how many more times he would have tried to call if he’d known her home phone number. He wasn’t quite sure this constituted stalking, but he wasn’t proud of himself. Something was definitely not quite right in his head.

He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling tiles. If he’d had a client doing the same thing, he would have counseled him to either complete a single phone call or give up trying. But he would have first urged his fictional client to decide what it was that he wanted to say when he finally got through to the woman he loved.

Or was there anything to say at all? Jenny’s reaction to the thought of moving to the reservation had crushed him. She hadn’t actually said no, but the shrillness in her voice told him everything he needed to know. Or at least he thought so.

He shook his head. He would have told his client to make sure he understood what the woman’s reaction really meant. It could have represented a normal anxiety at moving to a new place, of leaving behind a good career and well-paying job. It could have meant she needed more time to think about it, that they’d only known each other for a week, and she wasn’t sure of his love for her.