CHAPTER NINETEEN Hunter

" Y ou're going, Copeland, and I'm not arguing with you about it," Jill stated on the other end of the phone call. "Mrs. Gellar is a hundred. It is the event of the year in this town, and you're the Sheriff. You're going!"

"I'm just not in the mood," I resisted.

"Why?" she asked. "Because of what happened at the diner with you and Ben?"

"Who's Ben?" I asked, acting like I didn't know who she was talking about.

"Don't, ‘ who's Ben ' me," she scolded. "It doesn't take a room full of rocket scientists to see that the new doctor and you are headed for something."

I stared at the cold cup of coffee I'd been ignoring for the past hour. For a Saturday morning, I had the excitement of a sloth on a sedative. "I'm headed nowhere with him," I insisted. "Especially since he's outta here in a year," I added.

"Who told you that?" she asked.

"He told me himself," I replied, standing and grabbing my coffee cup. I crossed the kitchen and put the cup in the microwave and hit one minute on the timer. "Don't waste your time getting involved with him, Jill. He's just filling in around here for some unknown reason."

Jill was silent for a minute while I pulled my coffee out of the microwave, quickly setting it down after sensing the hot ceramic. "Hmmm. I wonder why?" she asked, using a tone I was all too familiar with. When Jill thought there was a story or some gossip to be uncovered, she hummed to herself like she had a great mystery to explore.

"Leave it, sis."

"I knew there was a secret about him," she whispered. "I wonder what it is? Hmmm," she continued, again humming. "Do you think he's hiding from someone?"

I stared at the coffee table where a photo album Mark had made of our life together sat, dusty and unopened since his death. I reached for it, knowing nothing good would come of me starting my weekend this way. I opened to a random page and found an image of Mark peeking out of a tent one summer morning out at Lake Hawthorne on Triple H Ranch.

A very familiar pain lodged in my throat at seeing his beaming face. Two years had disappeared while I walked around in a cloud of grief, and I was still no closer to what everyone said would happen. It wasn't getting better.

"Hunt?" Jill whispered. "You there?"

"I miss those eyes," I whispered. "The way the sun lit them like emeralds on fire. You know something?" I asked, answering the question before she gave a response. "Mark hated camping, but he went because I loved it."

I heard Jill swallow a cry before the sound escaped her mouth. "He hated a ton of shit that you liked to do, but he loved you, Hunt."

I turned the page and found Mark and I snuggled on the couch, him tucked into his favorite space, under my arm. "I need to get away from here, sis. Find another place to start over."

"He'll still be in your heart," she replied. "But you know what? If you need to, I'll support you."

Jill had never said this before. She'd always reminded me that no matter where I went as I tried to escape the pain, even Mars, the pain would be right there as my travel partner. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," she agreed. "If the friend I love can find his way again, and that means relocating, I'm all in with that. But know this. Mark's memory is never going away, Hunt. Never . And honestly, do you really want it to?"

"Can I share a secret with you?" I asked, thumbing another page on the tour of my former life.

"If you want."

"Mark made me swear we'd never leave Plentywood. He said you'd need us after you guys lost your parents."

"And now?" she asked. "We've lost Mark too, so what do you think he'd want you to do now?"

I turned to another page and to a picture of the three amigos: Mark, Jill, and I, at Smitty's bar. We'd just won a dart tournament, and Mark and Jill were holding up a cheesy, ten-cent, plastic trophy. How could I leave a town Mark loved so much? A place we grew up in and both committed to share a life in.

"He'd want me to stay," I admitted. "He'd want me to snap outta this shit storm I find myself in."

"I want you to stay, Hunt. I also want you to know that I'll be okay if you can't do that."

I ran my finger over the picture of the three of us, trying to will myself back to that night. Mark's head rested against my arm while he held Jill's hand. The trio connected, like always.

"Your brother stole your boyfriend, sis," I stated, letting out a slight chuckle as I continued rubbing my finger across the picture. "How'd you ever forgive him?"

"I knew it was coming."

"No way!" I argued.

"Way," she countered. "I knew Christmas Eve our senior year."

"And how's that?"

"Remember how Mark was a freshman that year and had made his mind up that he'd look taller and more mature if he had a particular pair of cowboy boots he'd seen in a catalog?"

"Yeah. The pair at the Boot Barn in Missoula."

"I knew you two were destined to be together when he opened your gift for him," she said. "The look on your face when he cried about how you'd driven over five hundred miles one way to buy them for him. He gushed at how much extra work you must've had to do to save for them," she reminded me. "I saw the love you had for him in that exact instant. You were so proud of your effort. I fell in love with the idea of you loving my little brother that very day."

"Jesus, Jill," I muttered. "I don't deserve your friendship."

"I love you for a ton of other reasons," she added. "Please let me help you, Hunt. I miss Mark too, but he'd hate this you."

She was right. He would. "Should I pick you up at your place or the diner?"

"Really?" she asked, not waiting for confirmation. "My place," she quickly added. "Wear something nice. You and I are gonna sing our greatest hits tonight, sheriff."

"Oh, God!" I exclaimed. "Are you drinking too?"

"A shitload."

"I'll change the sheets in the spare bedroom, then."

"How about we see what the new doctor is hiding?" she asked. "I think you're right. Something ain't adding up in little old Plentywood, and it's my duty to find out what that is."

"Don't go there, Jill," I insisted.

"Don't bother," she argued. "I have my hunches about the pretty boy from New York City. Let's find out why he wants out so fast."

"Another reason I miss Mark," I bitched. "Mark would conspire with you and leave me the fuck out of it."

"You got that right. Pick me up at seven," she said. "Wear that nice striped button-down and your newest Wranglers. We have to look like stars on stage tonight."

"No shit stirring, Jill," I said. "I mean it too. Zero shit stirring."

"We'll see."

She hung up before I could continue warning her about her behavior. She and Mark were still staring back at me from the picture. Two fucking peas from the same fucking pod.

"Uh-oh," I whispered, swiping across Mark's handsome face before closing the photo album.

I glanced toward the kitchen and imagined Mark preparing breakfast for our usual Saturday morning start. In my mind, at that moment, he turned and smiled at me as he cracked another egg, making sure I was still there, probably checking to see if my coffee cup was full as well.

His image vanished when I blinked, clearing my eyes of tears, but I distinctly heard his voice. ‘ You're gonna be fine, mister, ' the message spoke inside my head.

I closed the photo album.

"Maybe," I mumbled.