“No. My father and mother were in a car accident when I was a baby. He died and my mother was paralyzed. She’s in a wheelchair and lives with my father’s father. My grandfather took us both in after my dad died. Neither one of them had to raise a hand. When they’re mad, I know it.”
“Oh. Sorry, man.”
“Thank you. It’s what it is. She’s got a great attitude about life. We get by.” And there I clammed up because it was getting to a too personal place.
“My mother has been married four times.” Again with that shooting star type of comment. I didn’t know if I should turn my phone back on or just grunt as I pretended to read. He seemed really open tonight, his walls lowered. And all of this without booze. “She has a kid from each marriage. You have any siblings?”
“No, my mother was unable to walk or carry a baby, not that she wanted another child. Or husband for that matter.”
“Right, sorry. Does she look like you?”
“I…sure yeah, I guess so although I’d say I look like her.” He smiled out at the prairie smoke flowers gathering dew. It was a rare sight, and it was gorgeous. “She’s tiny. I have her chin. And her laugh.”
“Cool. I take after my father. My real father not the asshole she’s married to now.” He stretched out his legs. “This is so fucking boring. What are you reading about?”
“Dead Greeks.”
He snorted and shivered. I dug into my bag and tossed a spare flannel at his face. “Did you ever see the movie 300?” He nodded in thanks then slipped on the shirt.
“Sure.”
“Those were some awesome Greeks.”
I pondered over discussing Pythagoras, the Greek I was reading about, but assumed he would get bored discussing pre-Socratic philosophers. So to keep him talking because I was enjoying this night under the stars with this gentler version of Will, I shifted gears.
“Did you know that Leonidas was the third child of the Spartan king Anaxandridas and so instead of being groomed to take over for his father he was sent to the agoge to train to be a warrior?”
His light blue eyes skipped to me and lingered. It might have been the wavering lantern light or my lust fogged mind, but I thought I saw something in his gaze. A spark of interest. Whether that was for Leonidas or me I didn’t know.
“How do you know so much about dead Greeks?” I waved my phone under his nose. That flash of a brilliant smile returned. He swatted at the cell as if it were one of the thousand insects drawn to the Coleman lantern.
“Reading is fundamental,” I tossed out.
“Yeah, yeah, so they told us in school. If I could have read about Leonidas as a kickass warrior kid, I’d have enjoyed reading a lot more. Who fucking cares about Jay Gatsby and Daisy?”
That made me snicker. “A lot of people.”
He shifted his long legs as a moth fluttered in front of my face to join the others flittering around the light. “Well, I thought it sucked.”
I watched Will for a moment. His profile was sharp and masculine. What the hell was it about this man that I found so fucking attractive?
“They have lots of books about the life and times of Leonidas at the Copper Falls Library,” I offered. He glanced my way. His face fell into half shadows. My gaze slipped to his mouth. Blood raced to my groin. “Next time I go visit my mom I can sign out one for you. If you want.”
He shrugged. “Sure whatever.” A pause. “I probably won’t read it. Got better things to do. But if you want to grab it then cool.”
And wham, just like that, the open Will was gone, and this uncaring jerk was back. I felt a great deal like one of the hundred moths beating themselves into dust against something that they were attracted to but would ultimately exhaust or kill them. I wondered how long it would take for me to batter myself into a coma as I crashed into the glass walls Will had built around himself.
“Cool,” I said then grabbed my phone.
He pulled his hat down to his eyebrows. Within moments, his soft snores were competing with the song of the crickets. I let him sleep then dozed off around two in the morning. When I woke up a few hours later, I looked over to discover that Will was gone, the lantern had run out of fuel, and the ground was littered with dead moths.
How damn apropos.
I sippedon some lukewarm bottled water as I waited for the professor and his gang to show up. The longer I sat there alone, stomach snarling, caffeine withdrawal punching me in the head, the angrier I got. At Will for sure because did he not recall the mountain lion gnawing my head talk we’d had last night? But more so I was pissed at myself. For letting that sweet side of Will lower my defenses again. Just when I thought I’d talked myself into telling him to fuck off he pulled out that midnight confessional side of his personality. The man was making me batshit crazy.
Professor Haney and the Dino Gang—his offbeat description of himself and his undergrads done in a great Scooby-Doo voice—arrived around eight. The prof looked sleepy and sated, his clean-shaven cheeks pink from what I had to assume was beard burn. Lucky bastard. I made small talk about fossils and the cleanup of the site that would start soon. Winter had been known to show its face here as early as October. So the dig would have to be tucked away for the winter. Also both the students and the professor were due back on campus soon. How Nate and Bishop’s relationship would hold up with all that time apart I didn’t dare to guess. They were both really good guys, so I hoped things went well for them.
After I rolled up my sleeping bag and secured it to my four-wheeler I headed back to the ranch. The fields were slick and wet with a heavy dew. Droplets flew up from the stubby tires, dampening my pant legs. A bull elk leaped to his feet. The massive beast was startled from his sleep by the Polaris. I slowed to admire him as he bolted away. His rack had so many points I couldn’t count them. Soon the air would be filled with the bugles of lovesick males seeking out females in heat. Our cabins would be packed full of outdoorsmen hoping to drop a bull elk or moose as fall settled over the Tetons.