Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,66

been drinking,” Harlan said. “Seriously. Don’t.”

“I wanted to see you, though,” she said. “Besides, he hasn’t had any accidents, except that once when he hit the fence, and that time he drove into the ditch, but it was icy. Anyway, he isn’t bad like that all the time. It’s just when you’re around, or sometimes when he’s really ... I’ve got no choice, Harlan,” she said with more urgency. He must’ve had some kind of look on his face. She went on, “Everybody else made it out just fine, right? It just seems worse to you because I’m the only one left at home. It’s one and a half more years of school, and that’s all. Less than one and a half. But if I could come to Portland for spring break—that’d be great. I don’t think he’ll let me, though. You heard him.”

“I’ll work on it,” he said. “And plan on that senior year in Portland. You’re eighteen at the end of August. We’re going to do this.”

“We can’t,” she said. “We’ll just make him mad. And there’s my teams.”

He said, “Don’t worry, Bug. It’s going to work out. I’ve got this.”

20

Not Cheaping Out

Back in the plane again, and they weren’t going anywhere, because when Harlan had hugged Annabelle and she’d headed off in the car again with him staring after her, the pilot had asked, “Where am I taking you?” and Harlan had started a little and answered, “I’m not sure. Hang on a few minutes, OK?”

The pilot said, “I’ll need some time to file a flight plan.”

“Yeah,” Harlan said. “Got it. Give me a few.”

Owen said, once they were back in their leather seats with nobody the wiser about their destination, “You know, one answer would be for everybody to go on home. Just saying.”

“Yeah, no,” Harlan said. “How sore are you?” he asked Jennifer. “How cold are your toes?”

“I’m all right,” she said.

“Now, that’s a lie,” he said.

“Then why did you ask?”

He smiled, but only briefly. “Look. I interrupted everybody’s vacation to do this. I can’t help my sister. I want to at least …” He trailed off.

“Ah,” she said. “You need to feel like you’re doing a good thing.”

“That’s about it. Since I’m responsible for dumping you on your back about eight times yesterday, making you ski that harder stuff, not to mention the whole bison deal the day before, and then flying you away to freeze your butt off some more in a parking lot and get insulted by my dad—well, yeah, giving you something that might actually be a pleasurable experience would be helpful to my peace of mind. Have I mentioned that it’s my birthday?”

“It wasn’t my back you dumped me on,” she said, “but OK. Also, you made me drop my bratwurst when you dragged me across the parking lot back there. It was tasty, too.”

“There, see?” he said, but he was smiling, so that was something.

“Right,” she said. “Are we set on New Mexico?”

“New Mexico?” Dyma asked. “What? What are you all talking about?”

“I’m cold,” Harlan said. “I want to go someplace warm tonight. and Hawaii’s too far.”

“Hey, gringo,” Owen said. “New Mexico’s the desert.”

“Yeah,” Harlan said. “That’s the point.”

Owen sighed. “I bet every one of those resorts you’re thinking about is in the high desert. High desert’s cold in winter. You could look it up. It’ll be about fifteen degrees at night. If you want to be warm, you need to try Houston or something. L.A. Like that.”

“Yeah,” Harlan said, “because nothing says, ‘Take me away from all this’ like a trip to Houston.”

“I’m just saying,” Owen said. “Wherever, New Mexico, might be luxurious, but it’s not going to be warm. Just as well fly back to Wyoming. You could rent a motel room with a bathtub and save a whole bunch of money. Or, you know, get all wild and crazy and come back to the ranch for the night. You all could take a bath, and I could get back to work, since cows don’t tend to stop calving just because you need a vacation. You’d have to sleep on the couch, of course, but there’s room for the girls.”

“Yeah,” Harlan said, “I’m sure that’d be a huge treat for everybody. I’ve been to your home town. The highlight of the trip was the barbershop, or maybe it was pitchforking up all that dirty straw. I can’t decide. If they wanted to see a feed store, though, they’d be all set. The problem with you is, you’ve