Holiday from her Holiday

Chapter 12

A/N: Fading in for a brief visit to LL…Longmire Land. I should have my WordPress site up and running later this week, for the fan royalty who was so negative. Good to be back, with another installment of "Walt and Vic meet my western Colorado sandbox."

They descended into a smaller metro area than Denver. Vic could see a huge mesa in the distance, but they passed all the exits to Grand Junction. Walt kept driving, unperturbed.

"Where are we headed?" She really wanted to know, if they weren't stopping in relative civilization.

His lips bunched. "Peachy, Colorado. Home of orchards, mesas, wine country." He looked over and raised his brows. "This part of the west is very romantic, they say." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Uh-huh." She hoped the sarcasm showed.

"Could be?"

She shrugged. She was in an unaccountably good mood given she'd been dragged from Bismarck to Durant to Denver and now western Colorado all because of some conspiracy, especially since the FBI seemed to have been compromised somewhere in the thick of it all.

Well, she was convinced it was enough that here she was with Walt, who she had written off six months before. And this was a different Walt, one who smiled, who cracked the occasional joke, who ate burgers with her again, and now held her at night. This could not be the same man who had pushed her away so callously. Something had happened in the last six months, she was just still not sure what.

"So who is in Peachy?"

"Well, Lester, for one. He has a friend named Jim Keller who's an attorney I've met before."

"So this Lester is really the Sheriff of Orchard County?"

"Yep."

"Have you ever locked horns with him over a case?" My God, she really did have the local lingo down, didn't she? Philly Vic no more.

"Not really, such different jurisdictions."

"I suppose that's true."

"Steve said we're welcome as long as we want to stay. His daughter Lita's there, but it's just the two of them. His son Simon starts back, I think as a—junior?—at University of Colorado in a month or so and is already living in a dorm."

"So he has room for us."

"So Steve said. I actually had something else in mind…but I need to talk to Lester first."

She tilted her head, puzzled, as they descended into a little valley flanked by two small mesas. Rows of orchards marched along the bases of both.

"Fuck, that is so scenic."

"Yeah, it's beautiful over here. All sorts of fruit orchards run up against the mesas. Lester owns half of a winery that his brother runs. They raise varietal grapes and put out some decent wines."

"So, you both are sheriffs and lost your wives? And, wait…you also know something about wine? More than a few things in common?"

"And the Marine connection, so a few, but he's got four kids and he hasn't been a sheriff as long. He's younger."

"Dating?"

Walt made a face. "How would I know that?"

"I mean, guys talk, don't they?"

"It's only been a little over a year for him, Vic. We haven't discussed it. Why do you want to know, anyway?"

She thought he sounded almost…nervous, so all she said was, "Oh."

"What…are you looking for him to ask you out?"

"I—" She didn't want to screw this up. Instead of snapping, she exhaled. "No. I—guess I just don't want him doing what you did."

He tilted his head, but his lips pressed together. His stubborn look. "That being?"

"The whole checking out on ASD for a year. It wasn't until after the case on Pronghorn Ridge you finally returned to your job. I've never seen anyone else just disappear from life for that long, pretty much the entire first six months I worked for you."

"Well."

"You seemed happier after that."

A pause filled the Toyota. He took a deep breath. "I was. You were the reason, Vic."

"I made you happy?" She'd been happier, with him, with work, even when Sean was being a dickhead.

"Happy, but still angry inside. Angry Martha was murdered, angry at the murderer, angry at myself that I failed her, angry that she had left me alone."

Vic unclicked her belt and slid toward him. The gearshift kept them apart, and she cussed under her breath. He brought his right arm around her and she leaned in.

"You helped me through that, Vic. Not by trying, just by being there. By my side, and by not letting me stay inside my head. Not letting me get away with anything. No one else in Durant had the guts to do that."

She burrowed into his shirt. "And then you pushed me away."

His arm gathered her in tighter. "I know."

They pulled into a charming tree-lined street, and up to a simple two-story Craftsman house.

"This is it."

She looked over to him that he had found it without a map, written directions or GPS. "Been here, before?"

"A couple of times, he, his sons and I went fishing once, hunting another. Once in a while I just needed to get away from Durant." He seeme to wander off in his head again.

That last line made her take note. She'd never heard him express any interest in travel or leaving Wyoming. She'd never seen him take a vacation. That must have been before Martha's death, before she was hired.

"From Martha?"

He shrugged. "Not necessarily.

"Cady?"

"No."

"Okay…"

"Just leave it." She recognized it as a topic to file away for later.

A man maybe not quite as tall and somewhat stockier came striding from the house. This must be Lester. He wore a cowboy hat, which almost hid heavy brows over a lightly-creased but kindly face. His sideburns were threaded with silver. She saw where Steve got his looks, and why Walt liked him, Lester had on a plaid shirt and jeans despite the heat.

"Walt! Good to see you again!"

Walt walked around the car, and did the man shake/hug thing. She unbelted, got out and waited for him to introduce her, before noticing the mossy green eyes. The man did have nice eyes.

"Lester, this is Victoria Moretti. Vic, Lester. Vic is—was—er, my—deputy."

She smiled and gave Lester a firm handshake, both aware and amused that Walt no longer knew what to call her.

"Late of Bismarck P.D.."

Lester's brows raised, and they were formidable, indeed. Vic decided instantly she preferred Walt in every way, but the other sheriff did seem kind.

"We would like to make some phone calls and figure out what the hell is going on," said Walt.

"Sure. We'll head over to my office after lunch, which is ready and waiting, first."

Lunch was heavenly. She gave Lester high marks—he could cook. The lunch he served proved he could more than cook, he was damned fine at it.

Her compliment "Even better than pancakes!" earned her a glower from Walt.

She knew he was nervy, uptight and worried over almost everything, but the glower turned to a look which she had seen before, like he'd get even later. She lifted an eyebrow, like message received.

After lunch, Walt insisted helping Lester rinse dishes.

He put the last of them in the dishwasher before turning to Lester.

"Still have that cabin near the end of the box canyon?"

Lester finished drying his hands, surprised. "I do. You want to hole up there?"

"If it's available. Haven't been there since you and the boys and I went fishing up there."

"Still plenty ot trout in the stream."

"Vic might like that." She knew he was referring to their aborted trip to Fred's, and what had almost transpired there.

"Sure. "I'll give you the keys and let Thad and Arliss know you'll be by, and in what vehicle. She usually stocks it before guests come in."

"We can, we don't want to be any trouble."

"No trouble, Walt, no trouble at all. After what you've said, why don't you make your calls from here, we'll pass on the station. No reason for more people to see you, and It will give Arliss time to freshen the place."

Walt looked to Vic, who gave him a look of agreement.

"You can use my office."

The man was definitely kind.

XXX

"We should keep watch, just in case."

"So much for a relaxing week sleeping in your arms." He blushed, to her satisfaction.

She of course was in Mother Nature's thrall, four more days. Three left in their week there, if there were no surprises.

Walt insisted she go to bed first. Chivalry was not yet dead, neither in keycards nor in Walt Longmire's sense of what was right.

He had come to bed late, shaken her shoulder, and taken second shift. She woke, showered, made coffee and had just pulled her feet under her on the glider, and tensed when she saw a mote of dust in the distance, which turned into a large motor truck. She had a moment where she almost called Walt, but relaxed as she recognized Lester's Yukon.

He pulled up and stepped down.

"Walt awake?"

"Not yet. Can I offer you coffee?" It would only be neighborly, since it was his house.

"Sure. I kind of wanted to get your opinion on something, if you have time."

All she had at the moment was time.

"Sure."

She went in, brought out sugar packets and a bottle of milk with the coffee, just in case.

"I take it black."

"Ah, another sheriff who takes it black."

He gave a somewhat sheepish grin, and removed his hat as he sat on the chair facing her. She was instantly reminded of Walt's inquisition couch in his office. A couch she had dreamed of using someday in an entirely different way…

"Walt mentioned you a while back. Said you came from Philly?"

"Yep," she said, almost smacking her lips. She wasn't entirely comfortable where the conversation might be going. She really didn't want to have to rebuff Walt's friend if he was hitting on her.

"There's, um, someone I might be interested in."

Oh, great, was he as fumble-tongued as Walt? She mentally prepared a gentle rejection, just in case.

"Um. No, that's wrong. I am interested in her. She's a vet."

"Oh," she said, initially more surprised than pleased. She quickly reversed on that. Walt would be pleased, too, but he was more knowledgable than she about former servicemen and women..

"I think she's about your age, but I haven't dated since, well, Walt probably mentioned that I lost my wife last year."

"Yeah," she said, with genuine compassion. "I'm very sorry about that."

"I, uh, I just don't know what the current convention is, how to go about it."

"Current—what?"

"I mean, how do you get asked out, now?"

That question threw her, she hadn't been in a real dating situation for a long time, either, and then, it seemed like flirting had been the norm. Maybe it wasn't, and she sure wasn't going to suggest that.

"Well…tell me about her."

"Well, I believe she's part Indian."

"Indian, like…"

"Like Crow. Like in your Durant neck of the woods. My family's originally from near Billings."

"Oh." Then he was probably right about the vet's heritage.

"I think you might have noticed her yesterday while you were in town. She was in the grocery store I took you to."

"A woman?"

"Tall, long blonde braid, darkish skin…? She was wearing a camo coat?"

"Oh!" She'd thought the woman was some kind of local activist or troublemaker.

"She treats both large and small animals. She's worked on the horses here, before.

"Vet? Veterinarian? And you want to ask out the vet?"

"Yes." He seemed acutely embarrassed. "I mean, she's younger than I am. I've been worried the local ranchers will attract her. You know, better-off than a sheriff. Any advice?"

Vic's lips twisted. She thought of her own complicated situation. "Not so much. Have you told her you like her?"

"No, we—we sometimes see each other at county calls. Dead deer in the road, the like. Sometimes she comes out to euthanize or treat wildlife, or dogs hit by cars."

"Cheery stuff…have you thought of going to her clinic or her house and asking her out?"

From his deer-in-the-headlights look that reminded her of Walt, she guessed not.

"It's like"—she wanted to be bracing—"riding a bicycle. You know, you never forget? Just tell her you would like to take her to dinner. Do either of you have anything in common?"

He twisted his hat in his hands. "I believe so." He didn't elaborate.

"Then you should tell her, probably sooner, not later. She's very pretty."

He looked her straight in the eye. "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and if she's amenable, I would like to marry her, someday."

"Oh!" Now, that she had not expected. She took a last sip, only to see Walt standing all rumpled in t-shirt and jeans in the frame of the open door.

He smiled and she melted. She didn't care if Lester Brannan saw it.

"Victoria here, she's been giving me some advice. I'm an old dog with old tricks." He laughed.

"You'll do fine," she said, making room for Walt on the glider.

"You want some coffee?" she asked him. "I'll get it for you if you two want to talk."

"Sure," Walt croaked. He must have just put his jeans on and come out.

"Need a refill, Lester?"

"Sure, if you have enough. I'm not much awake yet, either."

She smiled and headed into the kitchen. A woman must have designed it, because the kitchen made sense. She filled a mug for Walt, and took the pot out to refill Lester's.

As she neared the door, she heard Lester's voice.

"So…Vic is your…?"

Walt must have shaken his head. "Still trying to figure that out."

"She loves you."

She almost dropped the pot.

"She giving you advice on love?" he asked wryly. Wish she'd give me some."

She backed up and made some noise. She refrained from fuck but wanted them to know she was close. She handed Walt his mug.

"Thanks," said Lester with a grin as she refilled his cup. His wife had been the recipient of that smile, and possibly the vet would be, if Lester played his cards right. Lucky ladies. As she laid the pot on a hot pad on the table, she caught Walt looking at her. She smiled back. A private smile.

Maybe the veterinarian wasn't the only lucky lady around.