didn’t say she was going away.”
“Good God, call the police! Break down the door. Please make sure she’s in there, that she’s all right. I’ll be on the next plane.”
By the time Rob arrived Sid had been taken to the hospital by ambulance. An IV replaced fluids so she wasn’t dehydrated any longer, and she’d been medicated. But mentally and emotionally, she was ruined. Rob sat on the edge of her bed, took her hand in his and said, “Sid, what were you trying to do?”
It took her a very long time to speak. At long last, she said, “I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do.”
She felt she had failed so monumentally she couldn’t move. It wasn’t just that her marriage didn’t work; it was that she could be so successful in her field and not even notice her marriage didn’t work.
He pulled her into his arms and they wept.
Her doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital—in the psych ward. But Rob worked with them to find a good facility in Colorado. She needed medication and therapy. Rob brought Sid into his home after a brief and healing stint in the hospital, got her set up with a therapist. He hired a lawyer to represent Sid and helped her work through her divorce. Day by day, hour by hour, she got back on her feet. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t quick.
Sidney had never been very emotional and she certainly wasn’t a romantic. She was a scientist, a pragmatist, living in a world of equations and computations. But now she knew how dangerous a broken heart could be. And she learned how awful having no family, no real emotional bonds, could be.
She had had an emotional meltdown and what she learned was so ridiculously simple she felt even more stupid. She had not been living a balanced life. She had been completely absorbed in difficult work, had been physically tired, had no love in her life, became isolated and her defenses were down.
She collapsed.
Rob brought her into the bar, at first to lend a hand or have a meal with the boys. Eventually she worked her way into the business, getting to know the patrons, becoming friends with the other employees, getting to know the people in the town. Now it was her lifeline.
She still lived with her brother and nephews. She and Rob worked together to make sure the boys had everything they needed and the full support of parental figures. Sean and Finn were smart, athletic and funny. College was on the horizon.
“We’re going to turn into one of those odd brother and sister couples who no one understands and who live into old age together without changing anything,” Sid joked.
The town didn’t know all she’d been through. She was divorced, as were many people. They only knew a little of what Rob had been through, burying a young wife when his sons were only six and eight.
There was one thing that continued to plague her. How could her ex-husband treat her with that kind of selfish cruelty, use her as he had, abandon her the way he did and sleep at night? She tried not to think about that too much; it made her too sad. She was not known as a sad person. She was well liked and considered to be bright and funny and helpful.
There were plenty of attractive, personable men in Timberlake. She’d even been asked out. Could she ever be friends with a man again? She thought probably not.
But she took an oath. She was never going to let herself be that isolated and overworked again. She planned to surround herself with family and friends. Casual friends, not lovers.
* * *
By the time Cal got back from Denver, Dakota had signed his rental agreement, moved in his meager belongings and been hired by the county to haul trash part-time, starting in ten days. There would be a few days of training first, though how one trained in picking up garbage eluded him. He hoped they’d let him drive the big truck.
“Wow,” Cal said. “This almost sounds like you really are staying awhile.”
“Awhile,” he said, noncommittal.
“Gonna show me your place?” Cal asked.
“Certainly. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Let’s go!”
Cal jumped in the Jeep and they drove for about fifteen minutes to the little cabin in the woods. Dakota drove slowly over the bridge. “I hear this creek swells in spring. If it gets bad, I guess I’ll have to pole-vault home.”
“This is downright...cute,” Cal said.
“Be careful there,” he said. “It’s manly.”
“That, too,” Cal said.
“I just bought two canvas deck chairs. We can sit on the porch and have a beer and watch the deer and bunnies.”
They went inside and Cal admired the wood floors, the appliances, the big table, the stone fireplace. “This is not bad,” he pronounced.
“I like it,” Dakota said.
“Kind of all alone out here, isn’t it?”
“That’s the part I like best,” Dakota said. “But it turns out I have Wi-Fi. I’m not sure how good it is but if it’s terrible I’ll just spend a lot of time at your place. Or Sully’s. Or Sierra’s. Hey, when is Sierra getting married?”
Cal looked at him in surprise. “Are you concerned?”
“Nah, but I want to make sure she’s taken care of. You know?”
Cal put his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t know. You’ve hardly communicated, now you’re taking care of people?”
“To be honest, I never thought I’d be around family. I don’t hate it,” he added, smiling.
“Why didn’t that occur to you before?” Cal asked.
“Seriously?” Dakota said. “Let’s see. Not only was I in the Army, you were in Michigan! What’s the matter, was the North Pole full? Dad was in the twilight zone. Mom was pretty much there with him, and Sierra was under the influence. Are you suggesting I should have gone to live near Sedona so she could run my life?”
“You have a point,” Cal said.
“Who knew you and Sierra would settle in a cool place?”
“I never saw it coming, either,” Cal said. “I was just hiking. It was time and I was looking for the right place to scatter Lynne’s ashes...”
“And you end up at some old guy’s campground and he has a gorgeous daughter who just happens to be a neurosurgeon? How does that happen?”
“I must be living right,” Cal said. “You need anything? This stuff going to get you by?”
“I don’t need anything, Cal.”
“You don’t start your job for a while. It’s only part-time. If you need a little help, just say—”
Dakota put up his hand. “I left home seventeen years ago. I’ve gotten by without help, haven’t I?”
