B.J. Daniels - Iron Will

“There’s something I haven’t told you.” He cleared his throat and looked up at her. “Naomi and I had a fight that night before she left the ranch.” He swallowed.

She could see that this was going to take a while and motioned to the chairs as she turned and went into the small kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she called over her shoulder, “Beer?” She pulled out two bottles even though she hadn’t heard his answer and returned to the small living area.

He’d taken a seat, balancing on the edge, nervously turning the brim of his hat in his fingers. When she held out a beer, he took it and tossed his hat aside. Twisting off the cap, Frankie sat in the chair opposite him. She took a sip of the beer. It was icy cold and tasted wonderful. It seemed to soothe her and chase away her earlier thoughts when she’d seen Hank standing in the doorway.

She put her feet up on the well-used wooden coffee table, knowing her boots wouldn’t be the first ones that had rested there. She wanted to provide an air of companionship to make it easier for him to tell her the truth. She’d learned this from her former cop uncle who’d been her mentor when she’d first started out.

“What did you fight about?” she asked as Hank picked at the label on his beer bottle with his thumb without taking a drink.

“It was stupid.” He let out a bitter laugh as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I wasn’t ready to get married and Naomi was.” His voice broke again as he said, “She told me I was killing her.”

Frankie took a drink of her beer before asking, “How long had you been going out?” It gave Hank a moment to collect himself.

He took a sip of his beer. “Since after college. We met on a blind date. She’d been working as an elementary school teacher, but said she’d rather be a mother and homemaker.” He looked away. “I think that’s what she wanted more than anything. Even more than me.”

She heard something in his voice, in his words. “You didn’t question that she loved you, did you?”

“No.” He said it too quickly and then shook his head. “I did that night. I questioned a lot of things. She seemed so...so wrong for me. I mean, there was nothing about the ranch that she liked. Not the horses, the dust, the work. I’d majored in ranch management. I’d planned to come home after college and help my folks with the place.”

“And that’s what you were doing.”

He nodded. “But Naomi didn’t want to stay here. She didn’t like the canyon or living on my folks’ place. She wanted a home in a subdivision down in Bozeman. In what she called ‘civilization with sidewalks.’” He shook his head. “I had no idea sidewalks meant that much to her before that night. She wanted everything I didn’t.”

“What did she expect you to do for a living in Bozeman?”

“Her stepfather had offered me a job. He was a Realtor and he said he’d teach me the business.” Hank took a long pull on his beer. “But I was a rancher. This is where I’d grown up. This is what I knew how to do and what I...”

“What you loved.”

His blue eyes shone as they locked with hers. She saw that his pain was much deeper than even she’d thought. If Naomi had committed suicide, then he blamed himself because of the fight. He’d denied her what she wanted most, a different version of him.

“So she left hurt and angry,” Frankie said. “Did she indicate where she was going? I’m assuming the two of you were living together here at the ranch.”

“She said she was going to spend the night at her best friend Carrie White’s apartment in Meadow Village here at Big Sky and that she needed time to think about all of this.” He swallowed again. “I let her go without trying to fix it.”

“It sounds like it wasn’t an easy fix,” Frankie commented and finished her beer. Getting up, she tilted the bottle in offer. Hank seemed to realize he still had a half-full bottle and quickly downed the rest. She took both empties to the kitchen and came back with two more.

Handing him one, she asked, “You tried to call her that night or the next morning?” As she asked the question, she knew where his parents would have stood on the marriage and Naomi issue. They wouldn’t want to tarnish their son’s relationship because of their opinions about his choice for a partner, but they also wouldn’t want him marrying a woman who was clearly not a good match for him. One who took him off the ranch and the things he loved.

“That night, I was in no mood to discuss it further, so I waited and called her the next morning.” He opened his beer and took a long pull. “Maybe if I’d called not long after she left—”

“What had you planned to say?” she asked, simply curious. It was a moot point now. Nor had his plans had anything to do with what happened to Naomi. By then, she was dead.

“I was going to tell her that I’d do whatever she wanted.” He let out a long sigh and tipped the beer bottle to his lips. “But when she didn’t answer, I changed my mind. I realized it wasn’t going to work.” His voice broke again. “I loved her, but she wanted to make me over, and I couldn’t be the man she wanted me to be.” His eyes narrowed. “You can dress me up, but underneath I’m still just a cowboy.”

“Did you leave her a message on her phone?”

He nodded and looked away, his blue eyes glittering with tears. “I told her goodbye, but by then it would have been too late.” His handsome face twisted in pain.

Frankie sat for a moment, considering everything he’d told her. “Was her cell phone found on her body or in her car?”

He shook his head. “Who knows what she did with it. The phone could have gone into the river. My father had his deputies search for it, but it was never found.” His voice broke. “Maybe I did drive her to suicide,” he said and took a drink as if to steady himself.

“I’m going to give you my professional opinion, for what it’s worth,” she said, knowing he wasn’t going to like it. “I don’t believe she killed herself. She knew that you loved her. She was just blowing off some steam when she headed for her friend’s house. Did her friend see her at all?”

He shook his head.

“So she didn’t go there. That would explain the discrepancy in the time she left you and when her watch was broken. Is there somewhere else she might have gone? Another friend’s place? A male friend’s?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “A male friend’s? Why would you even ask about—”

“Because I know people. She was counting on you to change and do what she wanted, but after four years? She would have realized it was a losing battle and had someone else waiting in the wings.”

He slammed down his beer bottle and shoved to his feet. “You make her sound like she was—”

“A woman determined to get married, have kids, stay home and raise them while her husband had a good job that allowed all her dreams to come true?”

“She wasn’t—she—” He seemed at a loss for words.

“Hey, Hank. Naomi was a beautiful woman who had her own dreams.” He had showed her a photograph of Naomi. Blonde, green-eyed, a natural beauty.

Ignoring a strange feeling of jealousy, Frankie got to her feet and finished her beer before she spoke. She realized that she’d probably been too honest with him. But someone needed to be, she told herself. It wasn’t just the beer talking. Or that sudden stab of jealousy when she’d thought of Naomi.

In truth, she was annoyed at him because she knew that if he’d reached Naomi on the phone that night, he would have buckled under. He would have done whatever she wanted, including marrying her. On some level, he would have been miserable and resented her the rest of his life, but being the man he was, he would have made the best of it. Naomi dying had saved him and he didn’t even realize it.