Page 14 of Forever Finds Us
“One of my sisters only has one kid, but the others made up for that with three or more. Put my parents over the moon.”
“And did you not want children or—” He cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It was just a question. And to answer it, no, I’ve never wanted kids. I thought when I got older and more settled in my career, I might, but that time came and went and I’m happy with my decision.” I shrugged. “Why do you think it’s insensitive?”
“You could’ve been unable to have children or maybe were in a bad relationship or somethin’. I don’t know your story.”
“Ain’t much of one to tell,” I said as I turned onto Highway 191 in Jackson.
We could’ve taken Moose Road, but it would’ve been a lot slower with all the mountain switchbacks. The highway to Teton Park Road was quicker, and I could use my lights if I needed to. Neither route was direct. Direct routes didn’t really exist in Jackson Hole.
“Grew up in Okie and moved to Wyo after the academy. Worked as a beat cop for a couple years in the eastern part of the state and then moved over to Yellowstone. That’s where I met Sheriff Michaels. He offered me the position in Wisper, and I’ve been here ever since.”
And probably would be until the day I died. Wisper, Wyoming had become my home. Oklahoma would always be my beginning and my touchstone, but the autonomy of living somewhere my sisters and mama didn’t had become more important to me than the desire to be close to Choctaw.
I peeked at Brand out of the corner of my eye. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“How’d you end up in Sheridan?”
“Oh.” He laughed softly. “Well, I graduated high school and then got the hell out of Dodge. Our father wasn’t the easiest guy to live with or work for and I wanted out. I started on a house crew at eighteen, saved every penny I could, went to school at night, and worked my way up from there.”
“That’s impressive. Your sister said those contracts you sold up north went for a nice price.”
Ah, crap. I felt like a heel bringing up money. I hadn’t meant to, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He just kept staring out his window at the fields whizzing by and the moonlit mountains in the distance, nodding silently.
“Aren’t you happy about that?”
“Of course I am. I’m fortunate. I’ve made some good decisions and had some good luck. We just passed the billion-dollar mark in revenue.” He looked at me. “I’ve never told anyone that. I’m sure you know, in certain areas in Wyoming, house prices are insane. That worked in my favor, and we don’t only build houses. We’ve worked on some pretty big commercial projects too.”
Jesus. How much even was a billion dollars? I couldn’t count that high on my fingers, that was for sure.
“But it’s just?—”
“What?” I asked, daring to look away from the road now to see the discontent in his eyes. “It’s just what?”
He turned to face me. “Bein’ back home, it feels different than I thought it would. You know?”
“I don’t,” I said, “but I can imagine. If I had to move back to Choctaw, Oklahoma, I’d go out of my mind.”
“No, it’s not like that. I’m happy to be home. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed my brother and sister. My niece and nephew. Even Merv. But I feel different inside now, and it’s almost like I don’t fit anymore. Does that make sense?”
God, does it ever.
Turning left onto the road leading up to Jenny Lake, I said, “It makes perfect sense. To be honest, I’ve never felt like I fit in with my family. Too many expectations I’ve never been able to meet, but maybe I’m projectin’.”
Evergreens blurred outside his window now while he thought about what he wanted to say. It was dead quiet between us, and night surrounded us on all sides. It wrapped around my truck and flowed beneath my tires, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world. A tentative familiarity with him eased my nervousness, and I breathed a little easier. I hadn’t expected to have anything in common with Brand Lee.
“It’s ridiculous for me to feel this way, but I guess up in Sheridan I was always so busy that I never really had to face the fact that somethin’ was missin’ from my life, but now I’m home, I feel it everywhere I go.”
Whoa. I’d never met a man so honest with his feelings. Had I entered some kind of twilight zone?
“It’s not ridiculous,” I assured him. “It’s honest.”
“We’re here,” he said, pointing to a wooden Jenny Lake sign on the left-hand side of the road.
He didn’t reply, and we drove a bit further, until we saw trucks and cruisers parked in the lot that led to the Jenny Lake boathouse, a sea of lights flashing in front of us.
