Page 3 of Knot Her Mountain Men

“All the games would be fair if you were high with me.”

“I didn’t force you to eat that brownie.”

Brandon sighed and threw his cards to the tent floor. “I’m done. Tell me what’s new?”

“Actually, work has been really great. I got offered a new job.”

“Holy shit, really?”

“I got headhunted for a tourism company in Missoula. They found me through my photography blog.”

“You’re moving?” Brandon frowned, ignoring all the positive parts of my statement. “How can you be moving?”

“Did you think I was going to live in small town Montana forever?”

“I mean, yeah. Kind of a dick move to leave all your friends behind.”

It wasn’t the first time that sentiment had been echoed. Everyone had been up my ass when I’d decided to go to the University of Montana. It wasn’t even so far away that I couldn’t visit regularly, but the distance I had always felt with my friends had turned into a chasm during my time there. I’d never felt quite like a fit with all of them. My friendships were a lot more about proximity than actual compatibility, as I suspected was the case in a lot of small towns, and I was getting tired of it. Missoula wasn’t even big by city standards, but it was ten times the population of where I lived now and I figured the odds of finding people I fit with were better there than here. I had once given wild thoughts to New York or LA, but they were so big I didn’t think I’d be able to handle them. “I can still visit.”

“That’s not the same and you know it. How can you leave us again?”

“I think we both know no one’s going to miss me that much.”

Brandon got onto his hands and knees, crawling right up into my face. “I’llmiss you.”

He tried to kiss me and I swerved, tucking low and planting my head against his throat so he couldn’t try it again. I’d chalk it up to the brownies, but I still didn’t want to deal with it. “You didn’t come visit me once when I was away for school,” I pointed out. None of them had.

“That’s ’cause I was pissed you left.”

“Forschool. There were no colleges in town. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not go,” he said like it was obvious. “None of the rest of us did and we’re fine.”

“I want to be more thanjust fine,Brandon. I can’t do what I want to do where we live.”

“Bullshit.”

“That’s not fair. I stayed a lot longer than I was going to.”

He turned to press his lips to my throat and I froze like a rabbit who’d stumbled into a wolf’s path before recovering myself enough to push him away. “Brandon…”

“You know what? Let’s get some fucking sleep. I’m over this conversation.” He bolted to his feet, knocking me onto my ass.

“Fine by me.”

The next morning was awkward, but not insurmountably so. We sat in silence a good chunk of the day as we ice fished on a lake we’d found, though we ended up going back to camp empty-handed. I didn’t film a full video of the process like I usually would, not with him in a mood.

I took a break partway through and got some amazing photos of white-furred weasels poking their heads out of the snow, and some red foxes wandering the edge of the lake to check us out from a safe distance. They were definitely good enough shots I could add them to the collection for the calendars I’d been planning.

I spent a bit of time filming some pieces for voice-overs that were close-ups of some rose hips I’d found in the snow and could take back to camp to make some tea with. Foraging options were pretty scarce this time of year, but I’d take what I could get.

“Do you want me to hold the camera to get you in those shots?” Brandon asked, poking his head out of the little tent we were using as a wind shield.

“That’s okay. It’s nothing too exciting.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry I was a dick yesterday. I just don’t want you to go.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but I didn’t want to pick a fight.

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