“Somehow, I doubt that.” I stormed to the door and yanked it open, only to turn around and glare at him one final time. “I expect those papers today. You know where to send them.”

18

PATRICK

My dearest Patrick,

I am writing you this letter from the far reaches of New York City. Life here is not what I expected. There are no horses and buggies or shootouts. I haven’t had a single drop of laudanum, and not a single male has proposed to me after spending two minutes in my company.

Yes, I feel like I’m back in the 1800s. In case you were wondering, I still don’t have my ID, which means no new phone for me. Everything requires ID these days, so until this issue is resolved, you can expect snail mail from me. Which isn’t totally bad. I’m considering taking a calligraphy class so I can write fancy letters like they did in Pride and Prejudice. If you want an example, you should read the book.

Believe it or not, after you left, Jeanie did not believe that I jumped out of a plane or that I encountered a bear. Oddly enough, the plane crash was never reported. I searched everywhere! No wonder she doesn’t believe me. Now she thinks I just left her shoes in some random spot and didn’t care enough to get them. Any chance you could write an official letter explaining all this to her?

How’s the leg healing? Crap, I’m a terrible friend and probably should have opened with that. Let’s start over. Hey, gimp! How’s the leg? Have any bears tried to eat you yet? There. I feel better.

Anyway, I’ll be staying at Jeanie’s for the foreseeable future. If you would like to write a letter back to me and let me know how you’re doing, I would appreciate it.

Sincerely,

The bear tamer

I chuckledat her letter and carefully folded it, tucking it in my pocket just as Chase walked into my house like he owned the place. God forbid anyone knock.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing. Just a letter from Piper.”

His eyebrows flew up in surprise. “A letter? I had no idea you were keeping in touch.” He walked over to the fridge and snagged a beer, then sat down in my chair.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced around, then back at me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Sitting in my chair and drinking my beer. But I don’t know why you would do that. You’re not the one with the gimp leg.”

“I thought you would want the couch.”

“Why would I want the couch when my chair is a recliner?”

“Because on a couch, you don’t have to worry about putting the feet part up.”

“Like it’s that hard?”

“Yeah, it is fucking hard when you only have one leg,” he snapped.

I grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him out of my chair, taking his place. Then I popped up the footrest and glared at him. “Yeah, that was really hard.”

“Of course it’s not hard to put it up. Try pushing it down now.”

I had no desire to argue with him, but just for the heck of it, I used my left leg to push it down. “Ooh, you’re right. That was really fucking hard. I don’t know how I’ll handle sitting in a chair anymore.”

“Whatever. I was just looking out for you.”

“Go look out for someone else. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

He suddenly looked away from me, interested in some spot on the wall. “You know, speaking of…people to look out for you…”

“Chase, what did you do?”