Moon Over Montana. Jackie Merritt
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starry-eyed, Linda closed the door and made sure it was locked. Tag Kingsley was pure dynamite.
But maybe it was time she walked through a minefield.
Something had changed. The apartment seemed cramped. Linda felt edgy and disconnected, a form of angst that she couldn’t recall having endured before, and she’d been so sure that she had suffered it all before her move to Rumor. Apparently not. Apparently liking a guy on such short acquaintance, and then facing and even enjoying fantasylike thoughts of a physical nature—because of him—delivered its own brand of emotional conflict.
Linda tried to elevate her mood by reminding herself how dismal her love life—if one could even call her one experience with an uncaring member of the opposite sex a love life—had always been. It didn’t seem to do much good; she was still full of sighs when she was in her nightgown and ready for bed around ten that night.
The downstairs lights were off and only a bedside lamp still burned. Linda pushed back the sliding glass door and stepped out onto her tiny balcony. The night air was fresh and smelled wonderful. She went back inside, switched off the lamp, got out the shawl she often used on nights like this and draped it over her shoulders. She then returned to the balcony to sit in the dark. Tippy lay at her feet, as relaxed as any dog could be, while his mistress looked at the stars.
The Montana sky at night still amazed Linda. There were no clouds blocking the view, and the sky seemed alive with twinkling starlight. Rumor was like another world, she thought, not for the first time. She had always lived with city lights, sirens and the sound of heavy traffic. Here there was barely a sound. A car started somewhere, maybe down the street at another apartment complex, and far off in the distance a dog barked. It was all so serene, so lovely. It was also dark enough that another resident of the building, or anyone else who should happen by, would have a hard time seeing her. She liked the sensation of privacy that the darkness and the position of her balcony gave her.
Feeling her tension give way, Linda put her feet up on the second chair and got really comfortable. Her mind wandered, from Tag to her teaching job, then from the upcoming science fair to the lazy days of summer ahead. She had found peace in this small community, and she wanted to hold on to it. It was too precious a feeling to destroy with careless or shabby behavior.
Linda sucked in a quiet breath. Certainly a normal adult relationship with the man she had met today wouldn’t be in the shabby category, would it? Unless Tag had a reputation she shouldn’t get near, it wouldn’t. But in this small town where everyone knew just about everyone else, and few residents hesitated to pass on gossip, some people were under closer scrutiny than others. Teachers, for example, had to be particularly watchful of their reputations. Linda had never disagreed with that attitude, but then there’d been no reason for her even to think much about it. Certainly, she hadn’t come to Rumor with hopes of finding another husband.
“Lord love a duck,” she whispered, shocked that she would even think of such a thing. One husband had been more than enough for her. She’d been positive for a very long time—even prior to her divorce—that she could happily live out the remainder of her life as a single woman.
Until today, that is. Until meeting a good-looking guy with laughter lurking in his eyes, a mouth designed for tender, sensual kisses and just enough brashness in his personality to create sexual unrest in a woman who had not been seeking any such thing.
Linda heaved a long sigh, laid her head back, shut out the beauty of the sky by closing her eyes and let life-before-Rumor unfold in her mind.
It wasn’t that her parents hadn’t cared about her. As a child she’d been given almost anything she’d asked for; anything, that is, but hugs and time and regular meals and the kind of life that the few friends she’d had back then had lived. Their mothers and fathers had scolded and then hugged and kissed their children. No one had ever scolded Linda, because Hilly and Vandyne Vareck had believed that no one had a right to tell anyone else what to do.
Linda had been a lonely child and had discovered the magic hidden in books at an early age. The collection she had to this day included some childhood favorites, and while her parents worked on their incredible art, or attended all-night parties with their artist friends, Linda had exchanged reality for the setting in whichever book she was devouring.
In high school, Linda had kept to herself. She made top grades but her friends lived between the covers of books, and whenever she noticed couples holding hands or stealing a kiss in school, she simply told herself that she had other interests.
Then she met Paul Fioretti and his dark good looks finally broke the back of her indifference to the opposite sex. He was a sharp dresser, drove a new car, always had plenty of money to throw around and he was five years older than she had been. He had told her that his college years had been spent in the East; he had graduated from Yale, an Ivy League school, and he’d brought her to the restaurant he owned, a small but busy place that served delicious Italian food. She’d been impressed by his plans to expand to a second restaurant and then a third, and on and on until Fioretti’s became a chain. She’d also been grateful that he was a businessman and knew little or nothing about art. She had not wanted art for her own career, but her talent was inborn, apparently, and wouldn’t be ignored. She dated Paul until her college graduation, and when he proposed that same day, she agreed to marry him.
At her wedding she’d realized once again how unusual her parents were, for they hadn’t attended the ceremony. Instead, they’d sent her the deed to a very nice house in suburban Culberton as a wedding present. By then the Varecks’ eccentricities no longer hurt Linda, and she had written a lovely thank-you letter, which they never acknowledged. Paul had been openly thrilled about having a house without a mortgage, but when Linda had suggested that he, too, contact her folks to thank them, he’d hemmed and hawed and never did get around to it.
One thing about Paul that had truly pleased Linda was that he hadn’t pressured her into making love before their wedding, as she’d had some very sweet ideas about being a pure and virginal bride. Then, on their wedding night, Paul had shattered her romantic fantasies by taking her roughly and without any consideration for what she might be feeling.
That had been the first blow to the hopes she had permitted to penetrate her somewhat cynical take on life; obviously, she had been delusional for a while. That very night she had wept quietly while Paul snored beside her. Any hope she’d had for a perfect marriage was utter nonsense. As for children, the ones she would love with all her heart and soul, Paul had refused to discuss the subject. He didn’t want children.
But even with such serious flaws, Linda had tried to make her marriage work. Little by little, however, she’d had to face facts. Paul lied about everything, from serious missteps to trivial incidents that weren’t worth the effort it took to devise a lie. His lying became unbearable for a woman who valued honesty as much as Linda did. Plus, Paul’s friends were disreputable people that Linda suspected lived on the wrong side of the law, which meant that her husband was, more than likely, involved in illegal activities.
The final straw was his infidelity. After far too many years of kowtowing to an immoral, dishonest man who didn’t have a tenth of her intelligence, a man who had never given her a moment’s pleasure in bed and refused to discuss the problem with her, or even admit that there was a problem, Linda had called it quits.
One afternoon while Paul was gone—only God knew where—Linda packed his clothes and personal possessions. She didn’t throw his things into boxes, she folded everything neatly and filled every suitcase in the house. And when he got home that night, she was up and waiting for him. She told him their marriage was over and she wanted him to take his things and move out.
He had laughed at her and told her that she would come to her senses. She hadn’t cared what he thought, as long as he got out of her life. She breathed freedom again after he’d loaded his car and driven away, and it had felt absolutely wonderful. The very next day she drove to Las Vegas, rented a small apartment, moved in some of her things and saw an attorney to file for a Nevada divorce.
The end of that chapter of her life had arrived in the form of a divorce decree. She had already acquired her present teaching