Chapter Thirteen
Dallas
“Look,” Ryan shoutedover the beat of the helicopter blades. He pointed. Below them, a herd of a hundred or more elk coiled around the base of Evenstone Mountain.
At four thousand feet, Evenstone wasn’t one of the more impressive land masses in Montana, and it didn’t form part of the Rockies, but it did offer a spectacular view of the surrounding terrain and provided shelter to an abundance of local wildlife.
Ryan circled a few times before bringing the helicopter down in a clearing surrounded by scraggly ponderosas, a smattering of limber pine, and a blade-propelled profusion of airborne debris. They planned to camp on top of one of the sandstone buttes overlooking the Tongue River, but it meant they’d have to hike because this was as close as Ryan could get to the buttes and guarantee a safe landing.
They left their fishing gear stowed in the helicopter to be retrieved in a couple of days. This section of the Badlands was private property, owned by the Endeavour, and virtually inaccessible except by air, so the potential for damage or theft was slim to none. Anyone determined enough could likely reach the clearing by ATV, but that possibility was even more remote than the area itself.
They donned backpacks and began the upward trek. A faint trail carved by erosion and surefooted elk circled the butte. Rumor had it that mountain goats once roamed Evenstone too, but no signs of them had been seen in years. Dallas suspected they’d been hunted out.
It took them several hours to reach the top of Buffalo Butte. Dan’s leg wound wasn’t one hundred percent yet and Dallas had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t overextend himself.
Finally, however, Dallas stood at the edge of the butte and breathed deep. The sharp tang of pine drifting skyward from the sparse copse below bit the inside of his nose. The Tongue River formed a thin ribbon of silver that trickled past the base of the butte. They’d left home just past six a.m. on a Saturday morning, and according to Dallas’s stomach, it was now nearly lunchtime. They were going to eat, set up camp, and then he and Ryan were going to do some rock climbing while Dan read a book.
A few days away from the hospital would do him good. A few days away from Hannah would be good for them both. He’d been working late every night so he hadn’t seen her since Monday, although they’d texted back and forth quite a bit. She knew he’d planned to make this week-long trip with his friends, that it was partly business, and he’d promised to call her as soon as he got back. They hadn’t discussed Tim Ryder yet, but that moment was coming.
Would you mind going home?
He’d minded, all right. But what could he say? He’d once asked her if she’d ever take the guy back and she hadn’t answered—which was exactly why he shouldn’t have rushed her. She’d tried to tell him that she hadn’t sorted out her feelings yet and he hadn’t gotten the message. Hannah needed closure. He couldn’t help her with that. If anything, he got in her way.
He had some things to sort out with her too, however. She seemed under the impression that sex was the only form of cheating there was. It was definitely a betrayal. A very intimate one. He wouldn’t argue with that. But there was emotional cheating too, and she was coming very close to crossing a line that he couldn’t ignore. He got that she felt loyalty to someone she’d been with for so long. She couldn’t shut off her feelings, and he didn’t expect that she should, but he didn’t intend to draw up second behind someone who’d already forfeited the race.
He wasn’t happy that Tim Ryder was in town with her and he wasn’t—or that she might have a greater sense of loyalty to a man she’d been with for a very long time than she did to him. He didn’t like that they’d had sex right after she’d had coffee with her ex, either. Being the punctuation mark on the end of her prior relationship—for a second time—didn’t sit well. Not at all.
By the time he and Ryan returned from an afternoon of rock climbing, Dan had dinner already cooked. They ate, then after they’d cleaned up, settled in for a night of stargazing and a business discussion regarding their plans for the Endeavour’s future.
Dallas was stretched out on his back on his sleeping bag between Ryan and Dan, his hands locked behind his head. There was nothing in the world quite like a Montana sky on a clear night. Stars salted the deep, midnight-blue backdrop. The Milky Way shot across the heavens in a swirling white tunnel. A massive moon had barely begun its slow crawl between the horizons.
A series of loud yips, howls, and barks cut through the air. Somewhere in the night coyotes hunted, most likely the elk they’d seen from the helicopter that morning. While they’d be hard-pressed to take on an elk already full grown, in a herd that size, there’d be the sick, the young, and the weak to take advantage of.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Dallie,” Dan said to him. “That’s so unlike you.”
“Just thinking. Have you ever noticed that the Milky Way looks very similar to what an Einstein-Rosen bridge must look like?” Dallas asked. “There’s supposed to be a supermassive black hole at the Milky Way’s heart but the gravitational pull suggests it’s a wormhole.”
Dan turned his head to the side so that he faced him. “Thinking about Hannah, huh?” he said, proving it was hard to hide things from friends.
“Maybe.”
Ryan spoke up from the darkness. “The guy she met for coffee turned out to be her ex, didn’t he?”
“He’s got a job interview in Grand and intends to stay. Not to mention she lent him money. He showed up at the taproom the other night while I was there, too.” And then Hannah asked him for space. He left that part out.
“Ouch. What did you think of him?” Dan asked, zeroing in on what was important.
“Honestly?” Dallas said. “He seemed pretty sure of himself.”
That was what stung the most. There was no denying Ryder knew Hannah well enough to play her and get under her skin. He’d likely needed the money he borrowed from her, but his real reason for asking for it would be because it gave him an excuse to keep reaching out. He’d repay her fifty dollars here, a hundred there, always in cash, and he’d make sure to bring it to her in person. When that was paid up, he’d borrow more. Thank God they hadn’t had kids together or she’d never be rid of him.
“Things aren’t always how they appear,” Dan reminded him sympathetically. “Unless that rumor going around about you and Simone getting friendly in the garage during the open house happened exactly as eyewitness accounts appear to suggest.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “It didn’t. Not exactly, no.”
“If you don’t want him in Grand, I can take care of that for you,” Ryan offered.
“No!” Dan and Dallas both said at the same time, although Dan maybe more emphatically. Ryan’s line between right and wrong got blurry, sometimes.