Sully counted to ten in his head. Bear hadn’t been the same since the stroke—no man would be after such a thing. But he fought his weaknesses, as well as everyone else who was there to witness them.
Edith scurried over. “Bear, I need you. ”
That got his attention—the woman knew her husband, that was for certain. Bear raised his brows in silent question.
S
he said, “Damien says we need to keep the car running for a half hour to recharge the battery. ”
He narrowed his eyes. “And?”
“And would you do it, honey? Sit in the car for me? I’m so chilly, and these gloves aren’t doing anything. ” Edith flexed her fingers to prove her point. “I need to go in and find my good driving gloves. The lined ones make all the difference. ”
Sully saw what the woman was doing and wondered if Bear did, too.
The man scowled. “Can’t we just let the damned car run?”
“I’m afraid of leaving it on with nobody in it. Come on, I turned on the radio, so you can listen to the game while you wait. I’ll just be a second. ” She paused significantly. “Unless you’re cold, too?”
That got him. “I don’t get cold easy, you know that. ”
Bear shuffled to the car, and Edith caught Sully’s eye and winked. She did a good job keeping her husband busy, making him feel needed in little ways.
He got back to unloading the Jeep. He’d wasted too much time jawing with Bear, and now telltale wet spots were starting to form on some of the cardboard boxes as food began to thaw.
Tucking a couple of tenderloins under his arm and a case of corn dogs in the other, Sully thought how he genuinely didn’t mind the work. Physical labor was good for a man. It cleared the mind. And with three tours in Nam under his belt, there’d been a lot of memories to clear.
Besides, he liked helping the Bailey family. Truth was, he’d come to love them. He’d been kicking around there long enough—he’d have to be one hard-hearted son of a bitch not to love someone like Sorrow as his own kid.
There was Bear Junior, too, though he was away on his second tour in Afghanistan. Sully had felt as proud as Bear Senior on the day the boy announced he was going ROTC, and even more so when the kid made the cut and joined the Corps after graduation. Though, as an Army man, Sully could never resist getting in a ribbing around the annual Army-Navy game. Hooah.
They didn’t see Laura enough either. The eldest Bailey girl sure did have piss and vinegar running through her veins. Even though her apartment in San Francisco was just four hours away, she didn’t visit all that often. And when she did, she had a habit of waking up after a few days with eyes like a trapped animal, ready to cut and run back to life in the city.
But cutting and running was something Sully understood. Just passing through had been his motto when he arrived in Sierra Falls a few decades back. He’d been a lethal combination of aimless but exhausted, roaming the country on his bike, trying to make sense of what’d happened between the years 1968 and 1972. Or maybe just what’d happened to him. He’d gone straight from West Point to Vietnam, and when the time came for the “coming back” part of hell and back, it was a whole other world he found waiting for him.
A couple of wives. A couple of motorcycles. A couple dozen jobs and a couple thousand miles later, he’d rolled into Sierra Falls. Something about the place had made it hard to leave.
He slammed the Jeep doors shut. His eyes went to Bear, sitting in the car, peering at that radio like he might be able to alter the destiny of the San Francisco Forty-Niners. The Baileys had come to be like family to Sully, up to and including that grumpy old son of a bitch.
As Sully made his way back into the tavern, he breathed in deeply. The mountains had air so pure he felt cleaned down to his soul. He always thought he’d leave Sierra Falls, but he kept putting it off until one day he realized he had a job. A place to live. A place.
After the war, he’d cut himself off from the world. But here he was, caught up in life again, and it felt good. He didn’t know when it’d happened, but he’d woken up one morning to realize he had friends. Family.
Sully hoped some good would come of those letters that had Sorrow so jazzed. The girl needed something to spur her out of the rut she was making for herself.
And then there was Bear Junior—he owed the kid an e-mail. BJ had heard about Damien and wanted to make sure he had good intentions. What would the boy think if he found out the sheriff had also been sniffing around his sister?
There was another person who’d been coming around the lodge a lot lately. Marlene Jessup.
Pausing at the door, Sully shook his head in appreciation. Sassy eyes, shapely legs, and a mouth that could bring a man to his knees. Now there was a person he’d like to get friendly with.
Seven
Billy closed his cell phone and sat in the SUV, parked along the thin, gravelly strip that was the tavern lot. He and Scott Jessup were supposed to meet for an after-work beer, but the ranger just canceled last minute.
Scott was an unexpected mix of thoughtful and boisterous, a good man with an easy laugh. They’d first met several months ago, both called in on the same missing person report. When it turned out to be nothing more than a stoned, wandering hiker, they’d gone for a beer.
He’d been one of the few with nerve enough to ask about Billy’s late wife—for some reason, most other people avoided the topic altogether, as if it might’ve slipped his mind otherwise. But Scott received the story with a heartfelt word and an unwavering eye, and the sheriff had held him in high regard ever since.