Definitely, Maybe in Love

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said as the bus rocked and bounced us up the hill. My fingernails dug into the torn vinyl seat in front of me.

“This is epic!” Mel exclaimed. “Aren’t you curious?” She peered out the dusty window. “I know I am. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me where we were going today.”

“I didn’t know he lived here lived here,” I defended. “I feel like we’re trespassing.”

“No one will know you’re here.” She patted my arm. “We’ll just tool around for a while, check out the back of some Wrangler jeans, then split. It’ll be fun.”

I exhaled, still mildly freaked, but at least Mel was excited about something and not complaining about the weird smell coming from the back of the bus.

Along with the dozen other passengers, we were dumped off in the middle of what felt like an outdoor madhouse. People and animals bustled wildly, some loners rushed about, while large groups moseyed. Mel and I stood close together holding hands. Two city slickers.

I spied the house farther up the hill. Of all places to see, that was first on my list.

“Where should we go?” Mel asked.

“I’m feeling overwhelmed,” I admitted.

“Down by the gate”—Mel gestured—“there’re more maps and pamphlets. I’ll run down and grab some.” That seemed like a smart idea. “Hey.” She shook my arm. “You’ll be okay here?”

“Sure,” I replied, nodding manically. “I’m good.”

She eyed me skeptically. “Okay. I’ll be back in a flash.”

All alone, I felt like a refugee fresh off Ellis Island dropped on an intersection of Times Square. The throng was a mixture of tourists, ranch hands, and what might’ve been local kids from the town below. Perhaps the Diamond W Dude Ranch was a popular hangout for teenagers.

I tried to stay out of everyone’s way, settling on standing in place like a stuffed dummy, my arms pinned at my sides. After a few minutes, passersby started walking around me like I was a flag pole in the middle of the opening.

During our fifteen minute bus ride, I’d thumbed through a slim guidebook that I’d snagged when first arriving at the museum. Seemed “Diamond Dub” (as it was affectionately known) was quite the happening place.

For the adventurous camper, there was horseback riding, cattle drives, catch and release fishing at the trout stream, 4×4 racing, hiking, round-ups, and skeet shooting. City folks could enjoy the hot springs, stroll through wildflower strewn meadows, and visit a souvenir shop. At sunset, the ranch featured hayrides, firesides of cowboy poetry, and a square dance on Friday nights.

On a more economical note, I also read that Diamond Dub raised, broke and bred quarter horses. Its 1,500 head of cattle and other livestock produced beef, pork, milk and cream, many of which were shipped across the country, and all of which provided hundreds of jobs to local families.

“Cowboy up!” someone whooped over the crowd. People whooped back and yee-hawed in reply. I didn’t understand why.

Still trying to keep my limbs intact, I pulled the guidebook from my bag and flipped through it again, in search of any information about the proprietors. There was nothing. I was about to toss it in my backpack, but what I spotted on the back cover made my heart stop.

It was a picture of a sunset on the prairie, and silhouetted in the center of the orange and gold glowing ball was a man in a cowboy hat, down on one knee, petting a dog. Even though it was ensconced in shadows, the profile of the cowboy was easily recognizable to me.

It was Henry.

I stared at the picture for what felt like hours, until someone bashed my shoulder.

“’Scuse me, ma’am,” a dude said over his shoulder as he walked past.

Ma’am? What the snot? Seeing Henry’s picture rattled me. My body felt hot and sticky as I stood beneath the mid-morning sun, and I was suddenly parched. Maybe someone could direct me to a drinking fountain.

I approached a guy who looked like he worked at the ranch. “Pardon me,” I said after clearing my throat. But the cowboy rushed past like a gust of smelly farm wind, probably not even hearing me. “That went well.”

I tried again with a teenage girl wearing a bright western shirt and a frayed jean miniskirt. “I beg your pardon.” She shaded her eyes from the sun. “Can you tell me who I can speak to at the house?”

She smiled, showing a chipped front tooth. “Dunno,” she said, then walked away with her friends.

What was with this place? I thought the country was supposed to be helpful and friendly.

Resolute this time, I zeroed in on the man coming straight at me. He was carrying a saddle on one shoulder. A battered black cowboy hat sat low on his sweaty head. He was wearing a dark T-shirt, jeans and brown leather chaps covered with what I hoped was only mud. By the way he was walking with long, powerful strides, I knew he was in a hurry.

“Excuse me?” I said and tapped his arm that was suspending the saddle.

He stopped walking and stood in place, staring straight ahead.

“Hellooo?” I continued, annoyed when he didn’t reply. “Speak English?”

When the grimy rancher finally lowered the saddle and turned to me, every corpuscle of blood gushed to my stomach. He lifted his index finger, nudging the front brim of his cowboy hat up, brown eyes wide like the centers of two sunflowers.

“What…are you doing here?” I managed to mutter, once I remembered how to use my mouth.

Henry unthawed and balanced the saddle against the side of his body. “What am I doing here?” he said, removing his hat. “I live here.”

“But she told us you didn’t…I mean, she told us… We thought you weren’t here.”

“I wasn’t.” He shifted his weight. “Who’s we?”

“Mel,” I replied. “She’s down the uh…” I pointed toward the bus drop off like a mime. “I had no idea you were here.”

Henry’s eyes left me and focused past my shoulder. “I flew in late last night.” He shifted the saddle to his other side. “The guys”—he dipped his head toward the stables—“were shorthanded this morning, so…”

I offered some kind of acknowledgment to that, then we both stared down, kicking the dusty ground.

“How long are you here?” he asked as he slapped dust off his chaps with his hat.

“Just this morning—it’s for research.”

His face was smudged with dirt, his hair dark from sweat. And those eyes, just looking into them for the briefest of moments made me feel breathless.

“I swear,” I said in a lower voice, “I wouldn’t have come here if I knew… I hope you don’t think—”

“I don’t think anything.”

I nodded, my neck sweating.

“Well,” Henry said, pointing to the side, “I’d better get this back.” He smiled faintly, hoisted the saddle to his shoulder and rushed away.

Deep inside my stomach, a hamster on its wheel was running record time, while my body remained planted in place as firmly as a redwood. After a while, that hamster transformed itself into volcanic lava, creeping like The Blob from the pit of my stomach up the walls of my esophagus.

“That did not just happen,” I whispered. Panting aloud, I staggered out from the center of traffic and supported myself against the side of a split-rail fence, clutching a post. “Tell me,” I gazed toward heaven, “tell me that did not just happen.” I jammed the heels of my hands into my eyes, cringing and agonizing, remembering a distant past that I couldn’t block out: Henry covered in cranberries… In my bedroom… By campfire light. Henry looking stunned when he thought I didn’t love him back.

Henry…in a cowboy hat?

“Mel,” I whispered. “Melanie Gibson!” I called out as I stepped away from the fence and spun around, scanning the area for my missing cohort. A boy leading a pony by a rope gave me the strangest look. “Mel!” I yelled, ignoring the stares. “Where are you?”

“Spring?”

I spun around.

Her worried eyes inspected me, then she rolled them. “Cause a scene, why don’t you.”

“C’mon.” I pulled her arm. “We have to leave.”

“No.” She yanked me back. “Have you seen all the cute guys here? They’re so rugged and dirty. Melly’s idea of heaven. I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to”—she adjusted her bra—“ride a horse.”

I covered my mouth with both hands, letting out a little shriek.

Mel’s smirk fell. “What’s your problem?”

“What was I thinking?” I said through my fingers. “What possessed me?”

She grabbed my arm. “Babe?”

“He was here. He was standing right here.”

“Who?”

“And he was all sweaty and filthy and carrying this thing on his shoulder. In a cowboy hat, Mel. A cowboy hat.”

“Springer.” She squared herself in front of me. “Who are you talking about?”

“Henry,” I whispered. “He was here. Is here.”

Mel released me and raised a crooked smile. “You don’t say.”

“It’s unforgivable for me to be here. He thinks I’m a creeper.” I covered another shriek with my hands. “I didn’t want to see him again like this. We have to go,” I begged through clenched teeth. “Now. Please.”

“All right, all right. But the shuttle down isn’t for another two hours.”

I pounded my fists against my head.

“Spring.” Mel laughed. “It’s not the end of the world.”

I stopped pounding long enough to glare at her.

“Oh.” She tittered. “Maybe it is. Come on, babe.” She took my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

I nodded, exhausted from exerted emotion, and smoothed the hair out of my face.

“We’ll walk back to the car,” she said. “You could use some more air, yeah?”

With her arm around me, we set off. We hadn’t taken thirty steps before I heard my name being called. Pretending I didn’t hear it, I kept walking, faster, pulling Mel along. She stopped abruptly and yanked my arm, causing me to spin a very inelegant about-face.

“Spring,” Henry said, trotting toward us. “Hey, Mel.”

Mel stared at him, looking a little stunned. Then she giggled under her breath. “Hi, Henry.”

“Where are you headed?”

When I didn’t answer immediately, Mel jabbed a finger into my ribs. I jumped and squeaked. “We’re uh, we’re just…” I aimed my gaze down the hill.

“You’re leaving?”

He was much tidier now. In the ten minutes since he’d left me, he’d lost the hat, chaps and saddle, and changed into a dark green T-shirt and faded jeans. His face was clean and his usually immaculate curly hair appeared as if it had been hastily combed through with wet fingers. Much to my dismay, he looked sexier than even my imagination thought possible.

“You just got here,” he pointed out. “Have you seen the horses or any of the shows?”

“No, umm…”

“You need to see the horses. Do you ride?” His brown eyes were moving back and forth between Mel and me. I think I nodded at his question, but who knows. “I’ve been dying to take a ride. We should all go.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mel’s smile widen. “We’d love that!” she exclaimed. I jerked her arm. She poked me back. “I just love horses.”

I forced one side of my mouth into some kind of smile. “Sounds like fun.”

“Great.” His hands were on his hips and, like me, he was breathing a little hard, maybe from his run down the hill. “Why don’t you two stay over at the house tonight? There’s plenty of room.”

I mumbled some kind of refusal that apparently no one heard.

“Fab!” Mel beamed.

“We’re having fireworks over the lake for The Fourth,” he said. “My parents are due in tomorrow night, but Dart and Lilah are coming in later today.” His gaze held on me for an extra second.

“I just love Lilah,” Mel said with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“It’s settled, then. Where’s your car?”

“Where the bus picked us up,” I answered.

“Keys?” he prompted, holding out his open hand. I dug in my pocket and handed them over. “I’ll meet you up at the house. Twenty minutes.” He shot off like a cannon.

Still pretty stunned, I kept my eyes locked on him until he disappeared down the hill.

“If the boy keeps up that speed,” Mel noted, “he’ll make Canada by nightfall.”

“Thanks a lot, Mel,” I snapped, wheeling around. “What did you do that for?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.” She grinned.

“We can’t stay here. It’s too weird. I…can’t…” My voice petered out helplessly.

“It’s cool. He invited us. If he never wanted to see you again, he wouldn’t have bothered. He’s not that polite. So, this is good, right?”

I tried to nod, but a tiny, high-pitched whimper seeped out of my mouth as she took my arm and led me up the hill.

“Spring Honeycutt, the way he was looking at you. Woo.” She fanned her face. “I really do need a cigarette now.”

“He didn’t recognize me at first.”

Mel ran her hand down the back of my hair, then grabbed a fist-full. “Can you blame him?” She put an arm around my shoulders. “Look, we don’t want to be rude, so we’re stuck here. Just think about it that way. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed as we made our way toward the house. “I shudder to imagine what he’s thinking right now.”

“Oh, babe,” she said, giving me a little squeeze. “I know exactly what he’s thinking.”