The Wyoming Kid

Because Red Springs was a ranching community, most children lived well outside the town limits. Huge buses lumbered down country roads every morning and afternoon. These buses delivered the children to school and to their homes, some traveling as far as thirty miles.

Despite Lonny’s dire predictions, Joy was surprised by how successfully she’d adjusted to life in this small Wyoming community. Born and raised in Seattle, she’d hungered for small-town life, eager to experience the joys of living in a close, family-oriented community. Red Springs was far removed from everything familiar, but she’d discovered that people were the same everywhere. Not exactly a complicated insight, but it was as profound as it was simple. Parents wanted the best for their children in Red Springs, the same way they did back home. Neighbors were friendly if you made the effort to get to know them. Wyoming didn’t have the distinctive beauty associated with Puget Sound and the two mountain ranges; instead, it possessed a beauty all its own. Joy had done her research and was fascinated to learn that this was the land where dinosaurs had once roamed and where more than half the world’s geysers were located, in Yellowstone National Park. Much of central Wyoming had been an ancient inland sea, and she’d gone on a few fossil-hunting expeditions with friends from school.

It was true that Joy didn’t have access to all the amenities she did in a big city. But she’d found that she could live without the majority of convenient luxuries, such as movie theaters and the occasional concerts. Movies went to DVD so quickly these days, and if the small theater in town didn’t show it, Joy could rent it a few months after its release, via the Internet.

As for shopping, virtually everything she needed was available on-line. Ordering on the Internet wasn’t the same as spending the day at the mall, but that, too, had its compensations. If Joy couldn’t step inside a shopping mall, then she didn’t squander her money on impulse buys.

The one thing she did miss, however, was her family and friends. She talked to her parents every week, and regularly e-mailed her brother and her closest friends. At Christmas or during the summer, she visited Seattle to see everyone. Several of her college classmates were married now. Three years after receiving her master’s in education, Joy was still single. While she was in no rush, she did long for a husband and family of her own one day. Red Springs was full of eligible men; unfortunately, most of them were at least fifty. The pickings were slim, as Letty was eager to remind her. She’d dated, but none of the men had interested her the way Lonny once had.

Since there was no avoiding it, Joy left the school and watched as the children formed neat rows and boarded the buses. She folded her arms and stood straight and as tall as her five-foot-ten-inch frame would allow. Thankfully she’d chosen her nicest jumper that morning, a denim one with a white turtleneck. She felt she needed any advantage she could get if she had to face Lonny Ellison. The jumper had buckle snaps and crisscrossed her shoulders, helping to disguise her slight build.

“Miss Fuller, Miss Fuller,” six-year-old Cricket Brown shouted, racing across the playground to her side. The first-grader’s long braids bounced as she skipped over to Joy. Her cherub face was flushed with excitement.

“Hello, Cricket,” Joy said, smiling down at the youngster. She’d witnessed a remarkable change in the little girl since Letty’s marriage to Chase Brown. Despite her friendship with Letty, Joy wasn’t aware of all the details, but she knew there was a lengthy romantic history between her and Chase, one that had taken place ten years earlier. Letty had moved away and when she’d returned, she had a daughter and no husband.

Letty was gentle, kind, thoughtful, the exact opposite of her brother. Out of the corner of her eye, Joy noticed he was striding toward her.

Cricket wasn’t in the line-up for the bus, which explained Lonny’s presence. He’d apparently come to pick up his niece. Preferring to ignore him altogether, Joy turned her back to avoid looking in Lonny’s direction. The students were all aboard the waiting buses. One had already pulled out of the yard and was headed down the street.

“My Uncle Lonny’s here.” Cricket grinned ecstatically.

“I know.” Joy couldn’t very well say she hadn’t seen him, because she had. The hair on the back of her neck had stood on end the minute he parked outside the school. The radar-like reaction her body continued to have whenever he made an appearance confused and annoyed her.

“Look! He’s coming now,” Cricket cried, waving furiously at her uncle.

Lonny joined the two of them and held Joy’s look for a long moment. Chills ran down her spine. It was too much to hope that Lonny would simply collect Cricket and then be on his way, too much to hope he wouldn’t mention the stop sign incident. Oh no, this man wouldn’t permit an opportunity like that to pass him by.

“Mr. Ellison,” she said, unwilling to blink. She kept her face as expressionless as possible.

“Miss Fuller.” He touched the brim of his Stetson with his index finger.

“Yes?” Crossing her arms, she boldly met his gaze, preferring to let him do the talking. She refused to be intimidated by this ill-tempered rancher. She’d made one small mistake and run a stop sign, causing a minor near-accident. The stop sign was new and she’d been so accustomed to not stopping that she’d sailed through the intersection.

She’d driven at the legal speed limit, forgetting about the newly installed stop sign. She’d noticed it at the last possible second; it was already too late to stop but she’d immediately slowed down. Unfortunately, Lonny Ellison had entered the same intersection at the same time and they’d experienced a trivial mishap. Joy had been more than willing to admit that she was the one at fault, and she would gladly have accepted full responsibility if he hadn’t behaved like an escaped lunatic. In fact, Lonny had carried this incident far beyond anything sane or reasonable.

It didn’t help that he was a good five inches taller than she was and about as lean and mean as a wolverine. Staring up at him now, she changed her mind about his being the slightest bit attractive. Well, he could be if not for his dark, beady eyes. Even when Joy and Lonny had dated she’d rarely seen him smile. And since then, he seemed to wear a perpetual frown, glaring at her as if she were a stink bug he wanted to stomp.

“I got the estimate on the damage to my truck,” he announced, handing her a folded sheet.

Damage? What damage? The dent in his fender was barely visible. Joy decided it was better not to ask. “I’ll take a look at it,” she said, struggling not to reveal how utterly irritating she found him. As far as she could see, his precious truck was on its way to the scrap yard.

“You’ll want to pay particular attention to the cost of repairing that section of the fender,” he added.

She might as well pay him off and be done with it. Unfolding the yellow sheet, she glanced down. Despite her best efforts to refrain from any emotion, she gasped. “This is a joke, right?”

“No. You’ll see I’m not asking you to replace the whole bumper.”

“They don’t replace half a bumper or even a small section. This…this two hundred and fifty dollars seems way out of line.”

“A new bumper, plus installation, costs over five hundred dollars. Two hundred and fifty is half of that.”

Joy swallowed hard. Yes, she’d been at fault, but even dividing the cost of the bumper, that amount was ridiculous. She certainly hadn’t done five hundred dollars’ worth of damage—or even fifty dollars, in her opinion.

To his credit, Lonny had done an admirable job of preventing any serious repercussions. She’d been badly shaken by the incident, which could easily have been much worse, and so had Lonny. She’d tried to apologize, sincerely tried, but Lonny had leaped out of his pickup in a rage.

Because he’d been such a jerk about it, Joy had responded in anger, too. From that moment on, they’d had trouble even being civil to each other. Joy was convinced his anger wasn’t so much about this so-called accident as it was about their former relationship. He was the one who’d broken it off, not her. Well, okay, it’d been a mutual decision.

Now he was insisting that a mere scratch had cost hundreds of dollars. It was hard to tell which dent the collision had even caused. His truck had at least ten others just like it and most of them were much worse. She suspected he was punishing her for not falling under the spell of the Great Rodeo Rider. That was the real story here.

Joy marched over to where Lonny had parked his vehicle. “You can’t expect me to pay that kind of money for one tiny dent.” She gestured at the scratched and battered truck. “That’s highway robbery.” She stood her ground—easy to do because she didn’t have an extra two hundred and fifty dollars. “What about all the other dents? They don’t seem to bother you, but this one does. And why is that, I wonder?”

Anger flashed from his eyes. “That tiny dent does bother me. What bothers me more is unsafe drivers. In my view, you should have your driver’s license revoked.”

“I forgot about the stop sign,” Joy admitted. “And I’ve apologized a dozen times. I don’t mean to be difficult here, but this just seems wrong to me. You’re angry about something else entirely and we both know what that is.”

“You’re wrong. This has nothing to do with you and me. This is about my truck.”

“Who do you think you’re kidding?” she burst out. “You’re angry because I’m a woman with opinions that didn’t happen to agree with yours. You didn’t want a relationship, you wanted someone to flatter your ego and I didn’t fall into line the way other women have.” She’d never met any of those women, but she’d certainly heard about them….

His eyes narrowed. “You’re just a city girl. I’m surprised you stuck around this long. If you figure that arguing will convince me to forget what you did to my truck, you’re dead wrong.” He shook his head as if she’d insulted him.

Joy couldn’t believe he was going to pursue this.

“You owe me for the damage to my vehicle,” he insisted.

“You…you…” she sputtered at the unfairness of it all. “I’m not paying you a dime.” If he wanted to be unreasonable, then she could be, too.

“Would you rather I had my insurance company contact yours?”

“Not really.”

“Then I’d appreciate a check in the amount of two hundred and fifty dollars.”

“That’s practically blackmail!”

“Blackmail?” Lonny spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “I went to a lot of time and effort to get this estimate. I wanted to be as fair and amicable as possible and this is what I get?” He threw his arms up as if completely disgusted. “You’re lucky I was willing to share the cost with you, which I didn’t have to do.”

“You think you’re being fair?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I only want to be fair,” he said in self-righteous tones.

Joy relaxed. “Then fifty dollars should do it.”

Lonny’s eyes widened. “Fifty dollars won’t even begin to cover the damage.”

“I don’t see you rushing out for estimates on any of the other damage to your truck.” She pointed at a couple of deep gouges on the driver’s door.

“I was responsible for those,” he said. “I’ll get around to taking care of them someday.”