Page 26 of Will to Run

“I mean,” she starts, but stops. “There are lots of good things too.”

“Go on then,” I nod, not breaking her stare. “I’d love to hear them.”

Della takes a breath to answer, but before her first word comes out, Molly interjects again. “Okay, well, what’s your plan then?”

A few thoughtful seconds pass by.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. The plan was to get to Driggs, take a breath, and then go from there. I know I’m not going back to Chicago. Since I’m a physical therapist assistant, I have flexibility, but I might go back and pursue the full degree.”

“Fuck it, just stay here,” my sister says. All the heads around the table snap to her.

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t really know what I would do.”

“Maybe we just have a physical therapist on staff? Like if people want to continue PT on vacation, they come to you!” Hazel says it with the kind of conviction that makes me believe maybe that’s not the worst idea.

“That sounds amazing and all, but that’s just not possible. You’re dealing with insurance and continuity of care, and you develop a relationship with your therapist so they know what you need after tracking your progress. Coming here for a week and having me work on someone is a no-go. I appreciate the thought so much; it just doesn’t have legs.”

“Get hired as a barn hand,” Molly says, as if it’s the smartest thing ever. “Contract the job,” she looks at me for approval, then back at Della. “Then stay here. You can’t stay in the cabin you’re in now, but maybe there’s a long-term one you can rent, or somewhere in town. I’d avoid the bunkhouse. But then you don’t have to go anywhere. I mean, where else are you going to find people as cool as us?” She raises her glass and laughs.

Trying to assess how everyone is reacting to this, I look around the table, and everyone is nodding along. Maybe that could be something we explore. To be fair, Hazel and Molly haven’t taken to anyone as they’ve taken to her, and I trust their judgment. Honestly, it’s validating that I’m not the only one drawn to this woman with unreasonable immediacy.

“What do you think, Della?” my brother asks. “Think the city girl can muck stalls?”

“I can do anything,” she says with a confident smile. “And once I figure out what that means, I’ll be the best damn mucker in the world.”

The table laughs at the statement. “It means shoveling shit, Della,” Molly says.

Her face blushes with the cutest red. “Well, I stand by what I said. I’ll be the best shit-shoveler there ever was,” and she salutes us.

When I look at her, there are so many competing thoughts.

“Are you serious, Del?” I ask.

The corner of her mouth twitches up. “Seeing as I’m in the business of reinventing myself right now. Might as well go all in,” she shrugs.

“You really want to be hired as a barn hand? It’s smelly, early mornings, and cold,” I try to lay the cards on the table.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to talk me out of it, Jax,” she raises her eyebrow in challenge.

“Not trying to talk you out of anything. Just want to make sure you know what you’re signing up for.”

Who am I kidding? If she hates it, I’d figure out something else for her to do.

“Well, I won’t know until I try, will I?” She smiles at me and sparkles. I swear to God, the woman just fucking sparkles.

“You’re hired then,” I say, tipping my drink towards her. We could always use extra hands, especially in this hectic pre-high season. A six-week contract isn’t making or breaking us, but it could her. My mind travels back to what I told Cayson: why wouldn’t we help her if we could?

“Just like that? No application?”

“Seeing as I’m the hiring body and I just happen to know we’re in need of additional help for about six weeks, it’s yours if you want it,” I smile at my lie, knowing this isn’t the smartest or the best idea for so many reasons. I’m wildly attracted to her… she’s literally running from her wedding… I have no idea what baggage she is carrying. Did I mention I can’t stop looking at her because she’s insanely beautiful? This has bad news written all over it, but I’m the third boy in our family. It’s not the worst decision I’m ever going to make. I don’t think, at least. Besides, it’s six weeks. There’s no way she’s going to want to stay in our little town for longer than that; she’s from Chicago. People don’t transplant from there to here.

When that radiant smiles takes over her face, my chest tightens, and once again, everyone else at this table doesn’t exist.

“Really, really? Because I’m going to say yes if you’re serious.”

“Well then, welcome to the team, Tatroe,” I say, sticking out my hand so she can shake it.

She grabs it but doesn’t look down to see where we connect, just keeps looking at me. “Thank you, Jaxon. And thank you to all of you,” she continues, breaking our eye contact and glancing at everyone around. “I can’t wait to start.”