Chapter 4

Chapter 4

INDYA

Age Nine

Dad swung my hand between us as we walked the stone path from the Beartooth Chalet to the lodge. “What should we do this week? Horseback riding? Fishing? Hiking?”

I shrugged. “I like all that stuff. Whatever you want.”

“Then we’ll do all of it.” He smiled down at me. “And we’ll drag your mother away from her book and make her come along too.”

I giggled. “Good luck, Daddy.”

He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. “Wait. Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know. Can I go play?” We had just gotten here, but I wanted to see if West was around. Maybe we could go visit Chief again.

“Indya, don’t run off.” Mom flew out of the cabin’s front door carrying two bottles. Bug spray. And sunscreen. “Let’s not have a repeat of last year.”

The sunburn and the mosquito bites hadn’t bothered me that much, but she wouldn’t let me go play until I was covered.

“Plug your nose,” Dad said, motioning for me to run back.

With my eyes squeezed shut, my fingers plugging my nose, and my breath held, I stood on the porch as Mom doused me head to toe.

“There.” She smiled and brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. “Be right back.”

As she returned the cans to the cabin, I jogged back to Dad. “Done. Blech.”

He laughed and drew in a deep breath, then held the air in his lungs. “Feels good to be here, doesn’t it, pumpkin?”

“Yeah.” He said the Montana air was his favorite. I think it was my favorite too. We’d been here for only an hour, and I already dreaded next Friday, when we had to leave.

This trip was Dad’s carrot. That’s what he’d been calling it.

He’d drawn me a picture of a man riding a donkey and holding a fishing pole with a carrot on the line in front of the animal’s nose. It was how the man got the donkey to walk. The animal wanted the carrot, and when they made it to their destination, it would be his reward.

Dad drew me pictures a lot when he had to explain hard stuff.

He’d drawn me a lot of pictures this year, so I knew what cancer meant.

This trip was his carrot for getting through surgery and his treatments. Chemo. It was supposed to be medicine, but sometimes he called it poison. I wasn’t exactly sure why. If I asked, Dad would probably draw another picture, and I was sick of cancer pictures.

“Howdy.” West’s dad—what was his name?—rounded the back side of the lodge, tugging off a cowboy hat and tucking it under his arm as he extended a hand to Dad. “Good to see you, Grant.”

“Happy to be here, Curtis.”

Oh, yeah. Curtis.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good.” Dad nodded. “It’s been a rough year, but it’s nice to have it behind me.”

“Glad it’s behind you too.” Curtis clapped Dad on the shoulder. “Whatever you need this week, just let me know.”

“Calories.” Dad patted his flat stomach. “I’m trying to gain back the weight I lost. And fresh air.”

“You’re in luck. We’ve got both in spades. Passed the kitchen on the way out. Dinner for tonight smells incredible.” Curtis grinned, then looked to me and dipped his chin. “Miss Keller. Welcome.”

“Thank you. Is West here?”

“He sure is. I’ll go find him. Any plans for this afternoon?” he asked Dad.

“No, we’ll get settled. Ellen is hooked on a book, so she wanted to read for a bit before dinner. I think tomorrow maybe we’ll take a ride.”

“I’ll clear my schedule. Take you out myself.”

“Thanks, Curtis.”

“My pleasure.” He shook Dad’s hand again, then gave me a wink. “I’ll go find West.”

As he walked to the lodge, fitting the hat back on his head, Dad put his arm around my shoulders. “He’s good people.”

Dad made sure to tell me when he thought someone was good people. He didn’t tell me when someone was bad people. Maybe we didn’t know any bad people?

“Grant!” Mom called from the cabin.

“Yeah?”

She held up a bottle, shaking it so the pills inside rattled. “Did you take these?”

“Shoot.” He sighed. “I forgot. Do you want to go play?”

“Yes.” I stood on my tiptoes as he bent to kiss my cheek, then ran for the lodge.

“Stay close,” he hollered.

“I will.” I waved to him, then yanked the door open to the lodge, scanning the open space for West. The sound of voices drew me toward a hallway.

“You need to go play with the girl who’s staying in Beartooth.”

“Dad.” West’s groan hit my ears, and my smile dropped. “I don’t want to.”

“Tough,” Curtis said. “We all pitch in around here. This is your job for the week.”

West huffed. “Fine.”

A job. I was a job? I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but I knew I didn’t like it.

I backed away before they caught me eavesdropping. Mom got mad at me when I eavesdropped. Then on silent feet, I crept to the door and slipped outside before running down the porch steps and across the stone path that led to the cabin.

My feelings hurt. I kind of wanted to cry.

I’d cried a lot this year. Usually when Mom and Dad were sad. If I cried, they cried. So I tried really hard not to cry.

Why wouldn’t West want to play with me? Didn’t we have fun last year? I was older now. I was nine. I could do more stuff. Weren’t we friends?

The sound of a door opening and closing behind me made me turn, just as West came out of the lodge.

If he didn’t want to play with me, then I didn’t want to play with him. I slipped around the back side of the cabin, where he couldn’t see me, then walked into the tall grass that hadn’t been mowed.

There were small white and purple flowers everywhere. They were really pretty, so I started making myself a little bundle. I could give it to Mom later.

“Hey.” West came up beside me with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets.

“Hey,” I muttered.

“Want to play?”

Yes. “No. I’m picking flowers for my mom.”

“Okay.” He shrugged and turned to leave.

I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head. Then I bent to pick a purple flower, but it wouldn’t break off. Come on, stupid flower. Wrapping my whole fist around the stem, I tugged as hard as I could. It broke with a quick snap, dirt flew into my face from the roots, and all the force of my pulling slammed me backward, sending me into the dirt with a plop.

“Ouch,” I muttered and rubbed the sore spot on my butt.

“You okay?” West’s hand came to my elbow, then hauled me to my feet.

“Yeah.”

“Come on. Let’s just play or something.”

“I don’t want to,” I lied.

“Want to see my fort?” he asked.

Yes. “That’s okay.”

He rolled his eyes.

I got in trouble when I rolled my eyes.

West walked away, turning back when he made it to the short grass. “Are you coming or not?”

“Fine.” I trudged after him, hurrying to keep up as he led me past the lodge and barn to a cluster of trees way past the fence. The farther we got from the resort, the more I checked over my shoulder to see just how far we’d walked. “I don’t know if I should be all the way out here.”

“I come out here all the time.”

“But you live here.”

He kept walking.

So I kept following, my picked flowers held firmly in my grasp.

West wove past small trees, some shorter than me, and when he reached the big trees, he pointed to a triangular structure, the roof covered in a green tarp. “That’s my fort.”

“Cool. Did you make it?”

“Yeah. My grandpa helped too.”

All my grandpas ever did was golf.

West ducked inside and took a seat on a wooden bench.

There were two, so I sat on the other. The legs were a bit wobbly, but if I kept still, it didn’t rock.

“I made these benches,” he said. “And the table. And I hung up that light.”

Above us, at the peak of the two wooden sheets that made up the walls and ceiling, was a camping lamp hung from a wire. He stood on his toes, flipping the button to turn it on. Then he picked up a tin on the floor, prying open the lid to reveal a deck of cards, a pile of broken toothpicks, and a wad of money.

“Want to play poker?” he asked.

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll teach you.” He dragged over the square table, even wobblier than my seat, and positioned it between us. Then he shuffled the cards before dealing out five to us both.

By the time I heard my dad calling my name, I knew how to play poker.

“I better go,” I told West and rushed out of the fort.

Dad was walking toward the trees with Curtis. He smiled when he spotted me. “Hey, pumpkin.”

“Hi, Dad.” I rushed to his side and threw my arms around his waist.

Mom said I should hug him whenever I had the chance. It was a good idea.

“Did you have fun? Curtis says that West has quite the fort.”

“Yeah. It’s really neat. Want to see it?”

“Sure.”

I took his hand and led him to the fort, shifting out of the way so he could go first.

“Hello.” West dipped his chin, something Curtis must have taught him to do, then waved Dad inside.

“I heard you built this,” Dad said, hunching because he was too tall.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very nice.” Dad’s gaze shifted to the cards and chips on the table. “Poker?”

“West taught me how to play,” I said as Dad ushered me out to rejoin Curtis. “I lost twenty dollars. Can I borrow it?”

Dad chuckled and dug into his jeans pocket, taking out cash from his money clip to hand to West.

“That’s all right.” West waved it off. “You don’t have to pay me. It was just for fun.”

“I insist. If she placed the bet and lost, then Indya has to pay.”

West looked to Curtis.

“It’s fine.” Curtis nodded.

“Thank you.” West beamed as he took the twenty and slid it into his pocket.

“We’ll let you get on with your evening.” Dad shook Curtis’s hand again, then put his hand on my shoulder to steer me away.

“Don’t forget your flowers, Indya.” West pointed to the small bundle I’d left tucked into the slit between boards on my bench.

“You can keep them.” They looked nice in the fort. “Want to play again tomorrow?”

Even if I was his job for the week, I still wanted to play.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Dad lifted a hand to wave; then we made our way toward the lodge. The chime of the chef’s dinner triangle rang through the air.

“You know what, Daddy?” I took his hand so he could swing it between us.

“What?”

“Tomorrow, I’m going to win back my twenty dollars.”

He let out a loud, booming laugh. The kind of laugh I hadn’t heard much this past year. “That’s my girl.”