Chasing a Brighter Blue, page 12
“I told your father that this was the first time in years that I could recall you not having a camera strapped on your hip.” She met her gaze. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know. But it’s very painful to think about, to talk about.” Reagan sighed. “There was a bomb. A very good friend was killed. And that’s all I want to say about it right now.”
Her mother leaned closer, putting an arm around her shoulder and squeezing. “I’m sorry, honey. If you want to talk, I’ll be here for you.”
“Thank you. I love you, Mom.”
Her mother got tears in her eyes as she looked at her. “You hardly ever say those words, Reagan. It’s always so special when you do. I love you too.”
Reagan blinked her own tears away. God, how had the conversation turned to this all of a sudden? She would much rather have her mother teasing her about Shelby. But the moment passed and they both smiled.
“So…do you want to window-shop or do you really have gifts to buy?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I know we all decided that the wedding was going to be Christmas for us and we weren’t exchanging gifts,” her mother said, “but I have a few that aren’t family that I want to get something for.” She patted Reagan’s arm. “And don’t worry, nothing for you. I know how you feel about Christmas gifts. Besides, just having you here is gift enough.”
“Thanks. I don’t want to have to stress over gifts. I’ve got enough of that going on with Mrs. Sutton trying to get me into a damn bridesmaid dress.”
Her mother’s laughter rang out, causing her father to glance at them curiously. “Oh, you’re kidding. A dress?” She laughed again. “Frank, can you see Reagan in a dress? How long has it been?”
“Exactly,” Reagan said. “I offered to wear a tux, but that didn’t go over with her.”
“Speaking of clothes, what do you plan to wear to the dance tomorrow night? It’s a dressy affair, Josh tells me.”
Reagan groaned. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, I noticed a couple of shops here in town that rent formal wear.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Her mother grinned. “You’d look lovely in a tuxedo, Reagan.”
“I agree.”
Reagan turned, finding Shelby standing behind them. “You agree?”
“Yes, you would look…lovely.” She motioned to the door. “I had them bring my car around. Are you all ready?”
Reagan stood up. “We’re ready. Thanks for driving.”
“My pleasure,” Shelby said easily as she linked arms with her mother. “Now, Reagan says you wanted a tour of the campus. I graduated from there. I can show you around.”
Reagan and her father followed, and she realized she had an involuntary smile on her face. Shelby seemed to do that to her. Her father elbowed her quickly.
“I like her.”
“Yeah. I kinda like her too.”
Chapter Twenty-One
After shopping and lunch, they walked for nearly an hour around campus, which Shelby found wonderfully enjoyable. Even though Estes Park was fairly close to Boulder, she hadn’t been to the campus in several years. The weather was perfect for late December, and she found Reagan’s parents to be delightful.
But after they’d returned to the hotel, she wasn’t ready for her time with Reagan to come to an end. So she suggested another outing.
“A quick drive to the park to look for bighorn sheep and elk,” she said. “How about it?”
They were alone in the lobby, Reagan’s parents having already gone up to their room. Reagan nodded immediately.
“I’d love to.”
So back in the Jeep they went, and Shelby drove them north of town and headed to the national park. It was still an hour before dusk, plenty of time to make the loop to Bear Lake and back. They were sure to see elk, but she wasn’t always successful with bighorn sheep.
“You love it out here, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She turned to Reagan. “I could live here.”
“At the hotel?”
“Well, if I lived at the hotel, I’d need something a little bigger. And a real kitchen. I like to cook.”
“Do you? I’m never in one place long enough to do any cooking,” Reagan said.
“So you live out of a suitcase?”
“Yes. And it’s exhausting.”
“I imagine so. Like I said, I’m a bit of a homebody. I would get tired of all the travel,” she said.
“It’s all I know, really. But…well, after what happened, I’m not sure when I’ll go back.” She glanced at her. “Or even if,” she said.
“Well, as I suggested the other day, you’re chasing the wrong things,” she said. “Even though I know you’re successful at what you do.” She slowed. “Sheep!” she said excitedly, pointing to their right. “See them?”
Up on the hill, not far from the road, was a small herd. They blended in well with the rocks and winter vegetation, and she’d almost missed them. She pulled to a stop on the side of the road, trying to get a better look. When she got her binoculars out of the console, Reagan laughed.
“Great. I was hoping you’d have a pair.”
She smiled as she handed them over to Reagan. She’d seen bighorn sheep many times before. She doubted Reagan ever had.
“There’s a nice big ram in the back,” Reagan murmured as she continued to stare out the window. “He’s gorgeous.”
Shelby’s eyes were on Reagan, not the sheep. As if sensing her watching, Reagan lowered the binoculars and turned.
“You want to look?”
Shelby shook her head. “No, you go ahead. Enjoy.”
Reagan turned back to the sheep and watched them for another few minutes before turning. “I counted at least twenty-five,” she said. “There were four rams that I saw. Do they travel like that? You’d think the rams would have a harem or something.”
Shelby nodded. “In the winter, after mating season, they travel together in larger herds. You’ll only find them here in the foothills during winter too. Once spring comes, they move up into the high country, then split up. The rams travel together in what they call bachelor groups.”
“You seem well versed,” Reagan said.
“I’ve always been interested in nature, animals,” she said. “And I visit with the rangers some when I’m here.”
“Any of them cute lesbians?” Reagan teased.
“Actually, yes. Julie. Or Ranger Dirksen, as she’s known on the job.”
“Do you see her on a personal basis when you’re here?”
Shelby laughed as she pulled back onto the road. “Do you want to know if we’ve dated?”
“Okay. Have you?”
“No. She’s cute and nice and we’ve had dinner a couple of times, but no, we’ve not dated. I’m not attracted to her and I assume she’s not attracted to me because she’s made no advances at all.” She put her blinker on as she took the road into the park. “I imagine if I was here more often, we could become good friends. She’s easy to talk to and I enjoyed her company.”
“Do you know anyone in town or just the hotel staff?”
“I don’t really know anyone, no. Some of the restaurants, cafés—Dave, for instance—know me, but only in passing.” She glanced at her. “Why so curious?”
Reagan shrugged. “I was wondering how much you get out when you’re here. I hate to think of you holed up in the hotel, only sneaking out for an occasional hike.”
“I love sunshine,” she said. “It’s takes a lot of discipline to stay inside and work. And I’ll admit, when I’m here, I’m out more than I’m in. I do a lot of work at night, in that case.”
She slowed again as they approached the first meadow. She saw a few elk against the trees but not the large herds that normally grazed.
“We’ll go farther into the park,” she said. “There’ll be hundreds of them.”
“Are they like the sheep? They go up higher during the summer?”
“For the most part, but you can still find them, just not in the large herds like now.” She turned to Reagan. “If I were a photographer, wildlife would be my subject.”
“I thought I was supposed to chase smiles and happiness,” Reagan said. “You know, weddings, birthday parties,” she reminded her.
Shelby smiled. “I said if I were a photographer. I hate weddings and parties.”
Reagan studied her. “I haven’t known you long, but let me take a guess. You don’t like people, do you?”
Shelby laughed out loud. “Well, it’s not so much people, it’s all of the stuff that goes along with them. It seems everything is a production. I like things to be simple, I like people to be honest. I don’t like games. It’s exhausting.”
“Is that why you said before that you try to keep everything in your life normal?”
“Yes. Normal. Practical.” She smiled quickly. “The opposite of my mother.”
“More like your father?”
She nodded. “Although I wouldn’t exactly label him practical,” she said. “He was born into money and then was successful with the hotels. He doesn’t shy away from his wealth. But he also doesn’t go out of his way to flaunt it, like Mother does.”
“So you don’t feel like an heiress?”
She laughed again. “Stephanie could play the part of an heiress, never me.” She pointed through the windshield. “There’s the big herd I was looking for.”
“Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding when you said hundreds,” Reagan said as she reached for the binoculars again.
“During the fall rut, the bull elks will bugle. That’s how they attract the females. It’s like a parking lot here then with so many people and cars. So I asked Julie to take me out last year,” she said. “She knew of a little meadow that’s not accessible to the public. It was incredible. You should Google it sometime and listen to them.”
“There’s a bunch with antlers over there on the left,” Reagan said. “Huge antlers. Wow.”
“Yes, they’re magnificent animals.”
Reagan handed her the binoculars, and Shelby couldn’t resist taking her turn to look at them. Dusk was fast approaching and the shadows were getting thick. Another car pulled up behind them, so she moved up farther to allow them a chance to view the elk too.
“Thank you for taking me out here. This was pretty cool.”
“You’re welcome.” Shelby leaned back, her gaze still on the elk. “In your travels, do you get to see much wildlife in other countries?”
“No. The places I go are…well, war zones mostly. I spent some time in the jungle in Colombia, but I was covering the drug wars down there so no time for eco-tours or anything like that.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why Colombia? Why drug wars? Why Afghanistan?”
Reagan shrugged. “That’s where the money is,” she said. “Anyone can stay here in the States and shoot police riots or snarled traffic after a snowstorm or presidential elections. Besides, I was fresh out of college and it all sounded so exciting.”
“And dangerous,” she said.
“Yes. Sometimes. In most countries, journalists are respected as neutral and left alone. Any publicity is considered good publicity, whether it’s the government or the drug cartels,” she said. “In the Middle East, different story. You live in fear of being kidnapped or killed. I don’t mind saying, I hate the place. More so now, of course.”
The car that was parked behind them pulled away as it was too dark now to see the elk. It was also too dark to see Reagan’s face, to see her expression, but Shelby sensed she wanted to talk so she remained still.
“And now…well, I don’t even know what’s going on in the world,” Reagan said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I was a news junkie. In my line of work, you have to be. Chase the news and all that,” she said. “Sad, really, when all you’re doing is looking for conflicts and unrest in volatile areas.” Reagan turned to her. “I haven’t read a single news article since I’ve been back. I haven’t turned the TV on. I have no idea what’s going on and I don’t want to know. Because I never realized how stressful it was to live that way. I feel…peaceful now.” She paused. “Is that really healthy though? I mean, ignoring what’s going on around us?
There are conflicts in some part of the world every day, whether we know about it or not,” Reagan said. “But more often than not, we read the newspaper, watch the news on TV…we know about it. We reflect on it, sympathize with those affected, get angry at the aggressors. It keeps us involved somehow.” She sighed. “But is it healthy—mentally—to pretend that those things aren’t happening? Is it healthy to ignore the news? To pretend that the world is a peaceful place when it’s really not?” She shook her head. “Because I know it’s not. I’ve been to all those places you see on the news. The world is not a peaceful place. I’ve seen it firsthand. And I helped bring those images to people like you, so you could have a front row seat in a conflict that was taking place thousands of miles away.”
“If it weren’t for people like you, who bring the news back, then there would be no cause for others to take action against the atrocities that are out there,” Shelby said. “I can’t imagine living in such a vacuum where there was no one reporting the news.”
Reagan sighed again. “I know. But it’s so much easier to hide and ignore things and pretend all these bad things aren’t happening…when I know they are.” She shifted in her seat, turning to face Shelby. “Anyway, that’s where I am. I’m torn between doing my job, finding these places, recording what’s happening and sharing it…I’m torn between that and living a peaceful life, not having to see all the carnage that I’ve seen and all the…the death, the despair. I’ve seen my share. And I don’t know if I want to see it any more. So I’m torn.”
“What do you plan to do?” she asked quietly. She heard Reagan sigh once more before she answered.
“I have…no idea.”
While her voice was quiet, there was a slight tremor in it, as if Reagan was worried what the future held for her. Shelby couldn’t resist as she reached across the console and found Reagan’s hand. Their fingers entwined and she squeezed tightly.
“Thank you,” Reagan said. “I sometimes feel lost…alone.”
“Lonely?” she guessed.
“Yes.”
And again, she simply couldn’t resist. She leaned closer, resting her elbow on the console. Reagan turned to her and Shelby tugged on her hand, pulling her nearer. There was a slight hesitation as their lips hovered an inch apart, then she closed the distance, finding Reagan’s mouth. The quick, unexpected flash of desire startled her, causing Shelby to moan, albeit softly, unable to contain it as their lips moved together. She was about to deepen the kiss when Reagan pulled away, but she could hear Reagan’s shallow breathing, matching her own.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have—”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you,” Reagan said. She reached out, her fingers gently touching Shelby’s face. “But I don’t want your actions to be because you have pity for me.”
Was that the reason she’d kissed her? Out of pity? Or empathy? Maybe that’s what gave her the courage to kiss Reagan, but it wasn’t the sole reason. She was attracted to her…physically, yes. But also on a deeper level. As she’d told Stephanie, she and Reagan seemed to have bonded emotionally. And she didn’t think it was totally the result of Reagan’s sorrow and anguish she’d been suffering from. She genuinely liked her.
And she liked being around her. Like now. So she smiled and leaned back, away from Reagan.
“I’ll expect a dance from you tomorrow night,” she said as she turned the Jeep around and headed back to the hotel.
“That’s it? We’re not going to talk about it? We kissed, right?”
“Right. And I liked it very much. In fact, I’d like to do it again sometime.” She glanced over at Reagan, seeing her face in the shadows of the Jeep’s interior. “But only when you’re sure that it’s because I want to and not because I’m taking pity on you.”
“And…you want to dance together?”
“I love to dance. I told you, I’m a very good dancer. And with luck, we may find some mistletoe.” Then she laughed. “And if Doug comes within twenty feet of me, I’ll expect you to come to my rescue. I have visions of him walking around with mistletoe in his hand, holding it over unsuspecting women.”
Reagan laughed too. “I thought you’d been replaced by Holly?”
“We can hope. But I’m going to be wearing a very sleek, very strapless dress with a slit up the side.”
“Oh my,” Reagan murmured. “I’m not sure us dancing is very wise then.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“People might be shocked,” she warned.
“Everyone in my family knows I’m gay,” she said. “Yours?”
“Definitely.”
“Then the only thing our dancing together will do is annoy my mother and, of course, remind her that yes, I am still gay.” She paused. “You do know how to dance, right?”
“Yes. I can even lead.”
“Perfect.” She drove out of the park, then glanced over at Reagan. “And by the way, I don’t do pity kisses.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“And how’s my favorite daughter this morning?”
Shelby looked up from the paper she’d been reading, smiling as her father came over. “You made it, finally.”
He sat down beside her and Ty placed a cup of coffee in front of him. “Yes. Got here very early. Beat the storm by twenty minutes.”
“Yes, I peeked out. It’s snowing pretty hard now.” She took a sip from her coffee. “Glad you’re here. I’m sure Mother was happy to see you.”
He shrugged. “Your mother is…well, your mother,” he said. “I understand the latest crisis has something to do with a bridesmaid dress.”
