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She shrugged. “Well, if your family is gonna run a saloon in this town, I figure I can either make you my enemies or make you my friends. I’ve got enough enemies, so....” she shrugged.
He relaxed, maybe let his guard down even, and smiled at her. “You’re every bit as pretty as my dad always said, Ms. Brand.”
“Vidalia,” she reminded him. “And thank you. Goodnight, Jason.” She turned back toward her truck, then stopped and faced him once more. “Whatever’s troubling you, you know, things have a way of working out.”
“Not this time,” he said softly. He lowered his head, shook it, and turning, walked back into the saloon, leaving her there alone.
Vidalia got into her truck and didn’t even try to talk herself out of driving to the Falls. It was an argument she’d have lost anyway.
* * *
Bobby Joe found himself a perfect spot in the little clearing that faced the falls, pulled up a log for a stool, and sat himself down. He had never been one to spend a lot of time mulling on spiritual matters. But learning that you only had a short time to live probably changed that in everyone. Even the most hardened of hearts, he imagined.
Now, though, as he sat there watching that waterfall flowing like it would never stop, it hit him that it would. Eventually, it would stop. The water would dry up or the cliff would erode back far enough to make it level with the rest of the riverbed, and there would be no more waterfall.
He was going to stop, too. And he wondered if there would be any more Bobby Joe once he crossed that great divide. What was on the other side? Was there an other side? How could you go on without a body, and what would that be like? Did he truly believe there was anything after death?
He’d never given these things a lot of thought. Considered himself a good man, a decent man. He didn’t think he’d done anything worthy of hellfire, if there was such a thing. But he wasn’t sure he’d done anything worthy of heaven, either.
He’d never felt the call to pray before. But as he sat there on that log, in the cold night air, watching his breath form clouds in the darkness, he thought maybe it was time. He looked up at the stars, and he said whatever came to mind. Didn’t think first, just opened his mouth. And the words that came out were these. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, God. I mean, I know what Iwantto do. Spend time here, in the place where I spent the days that turned out to be my happiest, though I didn’t know that at the time. That’s probably a life lesson right there, isn’t it, God? Anytime you’re laughing, smiling, happy, might just turn out to be your happiest moment ever. Probably a good thing to tell young folks. Too late for it to do me much good, I guess. Still, I wanted to come back here, to where I was happiest, and spend time with the woman I was happiest with, the one I could never have for my own. I wanted to spend my last Christmas here, with her, and with my boys, because it seems like it’s something they should experience. Something they should know if they hope to know me—really know me, deep down. They have to know what made me happy. So here I am, doing what I want to do with the little bit of time I have left, and while I know I’m late in asking, I figure better late than never. What doyouwant me to spend my final days doing? Cause if you tell me, Lord, I’ll give it my best shot. I promise, I will.”
He sat there a while, not expecting an answer, exactly. Maybe a sign or a flash of insight or something like that. But the only thing that came was the sound of a pickup truck and the brief gleam of its bouncing headlights as it came to a stop near where he’d left his own. A door slammed, and then he heard footsteps in the tall, dead winter grasses and weeds, and knew someone was coming toward him.
And he also knew before she got all the way there, who it was. Vidalia. He smelled her signature scent–the same one she’d worn all those years before. It used to drive him crazy, make him want to bury his head near her neck and rub himself in it.
She didn’t say a word, just came right on out and plunked herself down on the log next to him. “Beautiful night for star gazing,” she said.
“Sure is,” he agreed, and as he looked up at the stars, he sent God a smile.Message received. Thanks.
“Cold though,” she went on.
“Downright brisk.”
“I met your son, Jason, tonight,” she said.
He looked at her then, figuring he’d pretended the stars held more interest for long enough. And then he just drank in the sight of her. She wore a suede jacket that ended at the waist just above her jeans. And those boots of hers with heels most women her age wouldn’t even try to run around in. Her hair was long and wild and dancing with the chilly breeze that the falls seemed to generate all on their own.
“He seems like a good man. You raised him well.”
“His mother did,” Bobby Joe admitted. “I was too busy with work to take much credit for the man he turned out to be.”
“Well, it’s never too late to start. Seems like you know that, already. Is that why you summoned them all out here for the grand opening?”
“He told you about that, did he?” She nodded. “He tell you anything else?”
She smiled a little, lowered her eyes. “That you talked about me. Said I was pretty.”
“Nothing but the truth,” he said.
“He seemed...I don’t know. Sad. Troubled.”
Bobby looked away from her probing eyes. “I hope that changes when I give him his Christmas present.”
“Oh? You have a great one in mind?”
He nodded. “Best one ever. The Long Branch. I’m signing it over to him and his brothers before we open.”
She lifted her brows in surprise. “But Bobby Joe, I thought you were planning to run it yourself.” Then she looked at her hands in her lap. “Does that mean you’re...not planning to stay here in Big Falls?”
