His need to comfort Jenny and help her had thrown any previous misgivings about her out the proverbial window. When she had apologized for her earlier behavior it had definitely thrown him for a loop. Now, it didn’t change the fact that she was still essentially an uptight, small-town schoolteacher, but she wasn’t as bad as he thought. Small-town or not, she was prettier every time he looked at her. Sam looked down at his hands, remembering them spanning her tiny waist, and then shook his head, willing thoughts of her away. He wasn’t interested in her getting under his skin.
He changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed his laptop and decided to make his way back to the small lobby, which boasted a sitting area with a fireplace. Nothing fancy, but he could catch up on some e-mails if they had wi-fi there, as promised by the overly friendly front desk clerk. Anyway, even the lobby sitting area had to be better than his dumpy, depressing room.
Walking outside, he noticed a sign with an arrow pointing to the back of the motel that read YELLOWSTONE RIVER. Why not take a look before the sunlight disappeared completely?
He smiled wistfully as he made his way down the dank motel corridor toward the back of the building. He had spent just about every New Year’s Eve of his childhood at his Aunt and Uncle’s Montana lodge betting Kristian whether or not they’d get a glimpse of the Northern Lights. It had been years since he’d thought about New Year’s in Montana. New Year’s in Chicago always included a reliably flashy party complete with too much champagne and loud, blinding fireworks, a far cry from the simple New Year’s Eves of his childhood, spent stealing sips of Glögg, looking for Mother Nature’s fireworks that danced soundlessly across the inky Montana sky like a high-tech laser show in impossibly vibrant pinks, blues and greens.
He found a well-lit, marked path from the corner of the motel, and after a short walk through a brief patch of woods, sure enough, there was the river before him, white water rushing over the rocks in a hurry to get somewhere. He could just make out the mountains in the distance, black peaks in the dying light. It had been a long time since Sam visited Montana but strong, nearly-forgotten memories of a happy childhood engulfed him as he breathed in the crisp, fresh air. It was almost as though he were suddenly in the presence of a long-lost friend, one his heart and mind instantly recognized despite years apart. He smiled, looking up at the myriad stars developing in the increasingly dark sky.
He probably should have felt more inconvenienced by the unexpected change in his travel plans, but instead he wasn’t. It surprised him to find that he was pleased to be back in Montana again, grateful for its timeless, unchanged majesty. He would always have an affection for this wild, untamed state where seasons and geography were dramatic and intense, demanding respect and attention, so different from Chicago or any other city where the seasons and geography barely impacted more than your footwear.
It’s in my blood, he thought, this love for Montana. Just like my mother and her folks too. It will always feel good to return.
***
When Jenny and Casey got back to her apartment, Jenny picked up the phone book to look up the number of the Lone Wolf Lodge. She called the front desk and asked for Sam’s room, belatedly realizing she didn’t know his last name.
“Umm,” she stalled, feeling ridiculous for calling a man whose surname was unknown to her. “He checked in today? The guy from Chicago?”
“Oh, him,” replied the operator, her voice warming. She covered the mouthpiece and called softly. “Sir? Sir? There’s a call for you.”
Jenny creased her eyebrows. Hmm. He was hanging out in the lobby?
“Hello?” His voice rumbled deep and clear on the line.
“Hi, Sam, it’s me. Jenny.” She was nervous. Aside from her brothers, or the occasional father of one of her students, Jenny didn’t talk to men on the phone very often, and certainly not single men as handsome as Sam.
“Jenny who?”
“Jenny from today. From th-the court house?”
“Not ringin’ a bell.”
“Huh. Really? Well, we—”
Then she heard him chuckling and grimaced. He was teasing her. Again.
“Hi, Jenny. What’s up?”
Didn’t he say he wanted to take her out to dinner? Had she imagined that? “Umm, did you want me to pick you up?”
“Uh. Sure. Okay.”
Jenny bit her lip. Had she somehow gotten this wrong? “Are we going, um, to go out to dinner?”
“Are you asking me out?”
“N-n-no! No! I just thought… Maybe I didn’t.” Her face must be beet red. Thankfully, he wasn’t there to see it.