Page 11 of One Last Shot
“Drive safe,” he said and closed the door behind her as she climbed in.
He stood, hands in his pockets as she pulled out of the long drive.
Okay, maybe there was more likeness to her family than she wanted to admit.
Shoot.
You don’t have to pal with a teamto do your job.
So maybe she had turned down the last three—okay, all—of the team events. She didn’t need friends. She liked being alone.
Alone meant no one got inside her heart to tear it to shreds.
Betray her.
Derail her entire life. Especially on national television.
Nope, not taking that chance again, thanks.
She turned on the radio to a country station and turned up the heat. The sun still hung high over the western ridgeline, the days lengthening with every sunrise.
Alaska had started to awaken from its winter slumber too, with much of the snow receding, patches of dry greensward poking through the crusty layers. The air still bore a chill at night, but daytime temperatures had soared to a balmy forty-five for the last week.
Still, a flurry of snow started to brush her windshield, the storm crawling out of the high mountains more quickly than she’d expected. She turned on her wiper blades.
After crossing the river south of Copper Mountain, she put her car on cruise, turning up the volume. An old Ben King song played, and she sang along for a moment. “Hey there, pretty girl, let me sing you a song...”
Her phone buzzed on the seat, and the face of her sister appeared, her dark hair short and curly. She laughed into the camera.Austen. Boo popped down the volume and picked the call up through her car. “Hey. ’Sup?”
“I’m just sitting here on a beach, looking at the moon, wondering why you chose Alaska over Florida and trying not to take it personally.”
“Ha. Because I needed a job.”
“Plenty of EMT jobs in Key West.”
“I’m tired of the ocean and boats, and did you know Florida has alligators?”
Laughter, and she could imagine her sister, dressedin shorts and a T-shirt, sitting on her charter boat in between gigs with Doctors Without Borders. “Yeah, but Alaska has bears.”
“They’re still in hibernation.”Probably. “But I like it here.”Or was starting to.
“I know. Listen—I talked with Doyle, and he said that Jack and Conrad are coming home for Mom’s birthday. Even Steinbeck is going to try to get home. Doyle thought I could talk you into it.”
She swallowed. “Oh . . . sis, I?—”
“C’mon. You gotta forgive Jack sometime. And Mom misses you.”
“Funny that she hasn’t exactly called to say that.”
“You were pretty rough on her. On everyone.”
Boo drew in a breath. “I gotta go?—”
“Sis—”
“Nope. Listen, Austen, I’m not ready.”
“It’s been months. You gotta forgive?—”