Page 104 of When the Smoke Clears

Everleigh shakes her head. “I’m not a whore like you, Will. I try, but I just can’t.”

I bark a laugh, and she grins. She’s so damn beautiful. It hurts to let her go as I climb into the truck.

“Can I tell you something without you feeling the need to tell me what to do?” she asks, tugging on her sleeves to cover her hands.

“That’s your specialty, not mine.” I fasten my seat belt.

Her gaze sweeps along the mountainous horizon, eyes narrowed in concentration or maybe contemplation.

“I’m kidding. Yes, you can tell me.”

The smile she tries on her face doesn’t seem to fit. “Johns Hopkins contacted me. They’re offering me a position and so much grant money for research that I nearly gagged.”

“Well, you should take—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. I already know what you’ll say. But this is my decision. I get to decide what I want to factor into making it.” Glancing down for a beat, she laughs, but it’s void of actual humor. “I know you won’t ask me to stay. But leaving isn’t easy, and it’s not just about you. I’m loyal to my patients. And I just purchased land and the barndo. I have friends here. Missoula feels like home.”

“I don’t know how you ever ended up here. You should have been at a place like Hopkins from the time you graduated.”

Her head whips up, lips parted. “Will.” She exhales as if something has knocked the wind out of her. “I came here for you.”

When she doesn’t follow up with a “Just kidding,” I slowly shake my head and chuckle. “That’s . . . no. That makes no sense. You’ve been here for what? Four or five years? No. You didn’t come here for me. If you did, it sure has taken you a long time to mention it, which makes you look like a stalker.”

“Mention it?” Everleigh runs her fingers through her hair. “You saw me at a fundraiser the summer I moved here. The second you laid eyes on me, you made a beeline for the parking lot. I was crushed and a little angry that you wouldn’t even give me a second glance. I thought you were holding a grudge over a white lie, not struggling with the emotional trauma, from the fear of going to jail. Don’t pretend that you didn’t talk to Tyler about me after their wedding. Victoria told me you had a lot of questions. And I would have answered those had you returned my calls. Tyler told you I was advanced. Has it really taken you this long to figure out that I’ve probably had better offers than Missoula, Montana?”

“Taking a job in Missoula just to be near me was stupid. You know that, right? There was no advanced thinking that went into that decision. So you basically started your career with an insane decision.”

“I’m fully aware,” she says with a sharp nod.

“Well.” I laugh, starting my Bronco. “I have to believe you regret that decision.”

Everleigh’s gaze dips along with her head. “I don’t know yet. But I’m not a stalker. I’m just the young woman who fell in love with you in less than a week. And I chose to be close to you over fancy titles at the most prestigious medical institutes because I’m smart enough to know that love is the most fulfilling emotion. And even if we don’t work out, I won’t regret anything. I would only regret not knowing. Not trying.”

I lift her chin with my finger as her words jumble my thoughts and suffocate my already heavy heart. “Everleigh, dive deep, and just keep swimming. Be grateful for being so smart and talented. Change the world before it changes you. All too soon, everything you thought mattered will feel insignificant. Trust me.”

She hooks her finger around mine, pulling it from her chin. Her lips lift into a knowing grin as she shakes her head. “You’re not listening to me, William Landry. I don’t need to dive deep or change the world.” She releases my finger and steps backward. “And you will never feel insignificant.”

This woman . . .

Everleigh doesn’t pretend to hide her emotions. Her heart leads. Common sense and self-preservation get dragged behind, kicking and screaming. There’s a word for that, but I’m not sure if it’s passion or delusion.

The line between the two is thin.

“Everleigh?”

She eyes me without speaking.

“Are you spending Thanksgiving with either of your parents?”

She furrows her brow for a second before shaking her head.

“Come to Somers for a few days. Then take the job at Hopkins.”

I don’t know what reaction I expect, but she gives me nothing. When I close my door, she slides her hands into her jeans’ front pockets and heads toward the barn.

I’m jobless.

Living with my mom.