CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Hunter

" W ow! This is sure fun," Jill said, slumping back into the chair she occupied across from me. "I suggested you come in tonight so I could have some company, but I didn't expect to be doing all the talking."

I glanced across the table while I pushed peas around the plate in front of me. I'd hoped getting out of the house would help me pass the time. I was wrong. "The meatloaf is good," I muttered.

"Yeah?" she asked. "I almost believe you with all that enthusiasm."

"Sorry, sis. Maybe I should go home instead of to Smitty's with you. I'm shitty company today," I admitted, pushing the plate of food away.

"Thinking about Mark, honey?" she asked gently, extending her hand across the table.

"Surprisingly, no," I confessed. "That sucks too, though."

Jill stood and slid her chair to my side, sitting back in it. "Speak to me, sheriff," she ordered, twisting to face me. "I'm sort of happy it's not Mark, but then again, whatever it is must be bad if it isn't him."

I pinched my lips and leaned back. I was tired of dumping on Jill. And I imagined she had to be tired of being dumped on by me. Maybe it'd be best if I just said I was tired and went home. That wouldn't be a lie. I was tired. Tired of being miserable.

"He's with the new doctor," I announced, shaking my head.

"Who's with the doctor?"

"Charlie," I muttered, not truly wanting to talk about it, but lining up a litany of complaints. "Fucking Charlie took advantage of an opportunity to help before I could. I didn't even know he wanted to sell his car," I continued. "I know people in Missoula. I could've done that for him. You know, help and stuff. They went there together. Staying overnight too," I added, wringing my hands in my lap and gawking at her like she could fix this, too. "He's so goddamned smooth, Jill. He'll convince Ben to like him better than me."

Jill began laughing, pissing me off. After letting loose with her obvious enjoyment of my pain, she leaned against me, hugging me, still laughing. "Aww, the poor little boy has his feelings hurt?" she said. "Is someone trying to steal your recess crush?"

I stood up. "Fuck off, Jill," I spat.

"Oh, come on, Hunt. Sit your whining ass back down. Jesus! What are you, twelve?"

Reluctantly, I sat down and leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands while my elbows supported my pissed-off face. Jill ran her hand across one cheek and then leaned even closer.

I rested my head against hers. "I'm so stupid," I whispered, suddenly hoarse as I fought my emotions. "I kinda like him," I confessed. "I'm sorry, but I think I like him."

"Don't be sorry, Hunt," she soothed. "I don't want you miserable the rest of your life just because Mark was my brother."

If truth be told, I didn't deserve Jill. I didn't deserve her when Mark was here and she'd been the perfect sister-in-law. I didn't deserve her when we were teenagers. Jill had liked me in high school and her own brother got in the way, but she never complained. I felt guilty sometimes because of how the whole thing turned out. And Jill hadn't had much success with men ever since. And now, here I was, pining over a man that she'd also hung her hopes on.

"And now here I am again, crushing on a guy that you like as well."

"This one turned out gay, Hunt," she reminded me. "And back then, who was I to deny my own brother the love of his life?"

"Do you ever get sick and tired of me?" I asked her. "You know. The nonstop, miserable fuck I've become?"

She smiled. "Truthfully?" she asked, tilting her head to gauge my willingness to hear some truth. I nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes."

Her reply wasn't what I wanted to hear, but conceivably what I needed to hear. "Thanks for that," I replied to her truth-telling.

"Only because I know what you're really like, Hunt," she explained. "I know the real man behind this pain. Don't get me wrong. You have the right to feel your pain. I can only imagine what that must be like because I'm the sister of Mark, but he wouldn't like this version of you. Not one single bit."

"I can't seem to find that guy anymore," I admitted. "I try, Jill. I really do try, but it's almost like that Hunt died two years ago, along with Mark."

Her face tilted down toward the table, her fingers tapping on the wooden surface. It was apparent she had more to add to my plight. After a minute, she returned her gaze, but she remained silent as she searched my eyes.

"We need to stop this," she whispered, her eyes welling up. I felt alarmed by her statement, concerned I'd crossed a line or met her limit. "I enable you, Hunt. That is what I do. And in return, you enable me. We thrive in this misery club we've created," she began. "First my parents. Then my only sibling." She reached out for my hand. "I cling to you because I'm alone now. Completely alone. And you do the same."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we keep each other in this… this…" she looked around the empty diner, her hands rising in the air as she encompassed our surroundings. "We keep each other stuck in our grief. All of this," she pointed out. "Mom's business. The memories of Mark helping me out initially after Mom and Dad died. You supporting Mark and me after our folks died. And then…"

"And then Mark," I finished.

"And then Mark," she agreed, nodding. "Is Mark all you see when you look at me, Hunt?"

"No. Of course not," I defended. "You've always been like a sister to me. I love you. You know that, right?"

"Sometimes I look at you like my brother. My real brother," she whispered. "Like you're going to replace him. Like maybe his death isn't so bad if you were my real brother."

"I am your real brother. In my heart, I'm your real brother. I want to be that, Jill. I need to be that," I confessed.

Jill touched my arm, swiping at her eyes. "There he is," she whispered, smiling through her tears. "That was the Hunt my brother loved. The one I love," she explained. "You can be vulnerable, Hunt. Vulnerability is an attractive quality in a man. It is one of the big reasons Mark adored you," she added. "You have this rough exterior. A real man's man persona, but Mark knew who you really are. He loved that side of you. I bet you thought it was you who took care of Mark, right?"

"I did take care of him," I defended. "He liked me to be the leader, to make the decisions, be that person for us."

"You didn't make the decisions, Hunt. He liked you to think he liked it," she pointed out. "Mark adored your kind soul. He adored that boyish way you act so strong and in control, but he recognized your softness. He let you be whatever you thought you were. Heck, he even nurtured that in you, but honestly, he saw you for you. I hate to inform you of the obvious, but you are not this stoic, in-control, miserable man you've portrayed since he died."

"Yes, I am."

"Nope! You're not. You're just becoming that guy."

Her words stung, but she was correct. I couldn't remember the old me any longer. Time had cemented, or hung, a badge of defeat on me and I'd let it happen. She wasn't telling me anything that I didn't know. Mark had been the planner, the leader, and the director of our lives together. He only acted like I was in control. He only pretended to give me the reins.

"Jesus! We were talking about the doctor a few minutes ago," I stated. "Not all of this crap."

"I know," she agreed. "We still are."

My eyes narrowed. "I don't follow," I admitted.

"Show him," she urged. "Show Ben who you truly are, Hunt. And if it helps in any way, you have my support," she offered.

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do know. Let Ben see the vulnerable side of our beloved sheriff, my other brother."

I stared into her eyes and slowly began to smile. "I could, couldn't I?"

Jill nodded and smiled while fighting back tears. "I bet Mark would like that."

"How about us?" I asked. "What are we going to do to make a change for us?"

"You and I are just fine, brother. But how about we both start living again?"

"Beers at Smitty's?"

"That's an excellent place to start," she confirmed. "We can work on your plan to compete for the doctor."

"I think I like that, sis."