Chapter Text
(Josie's POV)
Wild Joe’s Coffee Spot, I read on the sign above the door. Coffee sounded really good right now. The name sounded more like a dive bar than a coffee shop — which, honestly, made me like it even more.
I’d been walking around for quite a while and felt like I’d earned a rest — not that I’d really accomplished anything. My feet were getting sore, my shoulders had tightened, and my thoughts had started to loop the same wayward path as my footsteps.
Until my friend got home tonight, I had absolutely nothing to do. While on my walk, I’d already scrolled every app on my phone twice and stared at buildings like they might offer some kind of entertainment. Honestly? I was bored.
When I walked inside, the ambiance wasn’t quite what I expected. I mean… it was, but it wasn’t. It smelled heavenly. An aroma of roasted hazelnuts, honey, maybe a little cinnamon. There was soft indie music playing in the background — low, not loud enough to interrupt anyone at all.
It didn’t feel corporate and cold like a Starbucks — which conveniently, there was one right down the street. No, this place had a hometown vibe. Small town charm, and that’s what drew me toward the counter. The menu wasn’t ridiculously huge, either. Only a handful of intimate choices.
By the time the woman in front of me finished, I’d only just decided what I wanted to try. “I think I’ll try an iced Bee Sting, please. And could I get a few donuts too?” I asked, pointing out which three that had caught my eye.
“That’ll be seven dollars, miss,” she said with a smile. I opened my change purse and my heart, like my face, literally sank. I looked through every nook that something could be slid in, like a ten dollar bill might magically appear. No luck.
“Honestly, I expected it to cost more, but I’m afraid I’m a dollar short. Good thing it wasn’t more expensive,” I mumbled, half-joking just to keep from sounding rude. “Maybe I’ll just get two donuts instead,” I said quietly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Hey, Katie,” murmured a gentleman behind me. “Can I get my usual and add a couple extra donuts? Put hers on my bill, please.” My eyes widened. I turned and found myself staring into a gorgeous pair of blue eyes. “Sure thing, Mr. Dutton,” the barista replied, her voice suddenly an octave higher — peppier.
“Y-you didn’t have to do that for me,” I said softly, finally taking in the man. He looked a little older than me, but not too much older. I guessed forty, right on the nose. He was extremely clean-cut and polished — suit and tie immaculate. Maybe a lawyer? That was my first impression.
“It’s my pleasure, miss. If you’re not busy, would you like to sit together and introduce ourselves properly?” he asked. I slowly nodded. “I’d like that a lot, actually. Thank you.” Butterflies stirred in my stomach and not just from nerves, but from the simple hope of making a new connection.
I hadn’t been in this town very long, and I didn’t know a single soul here except my friend Ashleigh. And even she wasn’t a native to this town. She’d followed the current here, as one might say, a few years back. We’d been friends for nearly two decades — online friends.
When I finally made the decision to head west, I knew I had to meet her. Meeting her in person, at long last, felt like crossing a bridge I didn’t even know I’d been building for years. A necessary bridge headed into my future.
Thank God for her, truly. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be sitting in my car right now, struggling to figure out what I was going to do or where I was going to go.
The image of me parked somewhere with my head against the steering wheel having a panic attack wasn’t hard to conjure. More drastic still… I might be halfway back to my hometown by now, already feeling like a complete failure.
Once the barista — Katie — handed me my drink and donuts, I made my way to an out-of-the-way table and waited for Mr. Dutton. It seemed like everyone knew him. It reminded me a bit of home, actually. Back where everybody knew everybody.
I couldn’t go anywhere without running into a cousin or six. There was comfort in that kind of familiarity — even if it drove me a little nuts sometimes. I missed it. In a lot of ways, it was better than walking around knowing no one.
It took Mr. Dutton a solid five minutes to join me at the table. By then, I’d tried a few sips of my coffee which was absolutely delicious, and a bite of one donut. Equally delightful. The coffee had a floral, almost citrusy note. It was bright but not unexpected. With a name like Bee Sting, it was welcomed.
I couldn’t believe they had a key lime donut here — in Montana, of all places. Key Lime anything was like my kryptonite. Another place on my bucket list… Key West, Florida. I still hadn’t seen the ocean. I desperately wanted to before my life was over.
It looked like they had proper lunch offerings on the menu too, and a few of them sounded really good. But clearly, I didn’t have the budget I thought I did. Part of me regretted even walking in here… I felt like I’d made a fool of myself, ordering more than I had money for. I hated that the first impression I made came with a price tag I couldn’t quite afford.
“I’m so sorry for the wait, miss. Please forgive me,” Mr. Dutton murmured, taking the seat across from me. It was a two-person bistro-style table, so although we were technically sitting across from one another… I practically felt like I was in his lap. Okay — maybe not that close.
“Don’t apologize for being well-known,” I said softly, offering a smile. “You look like a popular man around town. Mr. Dutton, was it?” He chuckled. “Please. Mr. Dutton is my father. You can call me Jamie.” He smiled as he said it, like he’d used that line a thousand times but meant it just the same.
“Jamie,” I repeated with a smile, extending my hand across the table. “I’m Josie. And thank you for the coffee and donuts. I really thought I had more money than I did, apparently.” The moment his hand touched mine, the butterflies came back in full force. His handshake was warm, firm and even grounding, somehow.
Jamie had the most gorgeous blue eyes I’d ever seen. I blushed when I realized I’d been staring a little too long and that my hand was still in his, lingering far past a simple handshake. I tried to hide my pink cheeks behind a sip of coffee.
“I hope it isn’t too forward of me to say, Josie… but you’re incredibly beautiful,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee before biting into a donut. It wasn’t too forward… or maybe it was. All I knew was that it turned my cheeks an even brighter shade of pink. Compliments always made me nervous, but this one? This one made me feel seen in a way I never had been before.
I was being complimented by — it seemed — a well-liked man who clearly had his shit together. Back home? Well… there were no Jamie Duttons back there. He was just the kind of man I always assumed was reserved for other women.
There were plenty of walking, talking, monstrous red flags and unfortunately, that had always been my type. My type back home? If he had a nice truck, a leather jacket, and a bad attitude… I probably fell for him. Twice. And took pictures. I’d have never left home if it had offered what was sitting across from me now.
“Thank you,” I finally managed, then tried an apple cinnamon donut. It was late May, but the flavor took me straight into fall. Just like the key lime one, it was incredible. “What brings you to Montana?” he asked.
The curiosity in his eyes was genuine. It took me off-guard a bit. I wasn’t used to people caring to get to know me. “What makes you think I’m not from here?” I teased while he merely chuckled.
“I know Montana accents pretty well,” he mused. “And if you were from here, there’s no way I wouldn’t remember a gorgeous face like yours.” I wasn’t sure which part flustered me more — the compliment or the idea he’d have remembered me.
I flushed again. “You caught me,” I mumbled, hiding behind my coffee. “If you had to guess… where would you place me?” I asked. He raised a brow.
“I go to DC a lot for work,” Jamie said softly, leaning back a little. He was taking me in, it seemed. I wanted to blush even harder from that, but I did my best not to.
“I’ve also spent time in the Deep South. Texas, a lot. For all kinds of reasons. You’re definitely not from there,” he said. I nodded. I figured I’d at least confirm the wrong guesses. Make it a little easier for him.
“I’ve done a lot of business in the Midwest, too. Something’s drawing me toward a mix of Midwestern and Southern.” That was ridiculously specific… and scarily spot on. He wasn’t just good at reading accents — he was good at reading people.
“You know your accents,” I said with a smirk. “But can you narrow it down?” I was finding this little guessing game more fun than I expected. I sat back with a lemon-flavored donut and took a few bites, a small grin playing on my lips.
“I might be able to narrow it down the longer we talk,” Jamie said after a long sip of coffee. “So tell me, what brought you to Montana, Josie?”
“I’ve always wanted to come out west. It looks so romantic on TV, doesn’t it? Have Gun — Will Travel,” I said with a soft laugh. “I’m a sucker for black-and-white Westerns,” I admitted. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t have much going for me back home. Not that I don’t love my hometown because I absolutely do. I might move back in a year or two… who knows?”
I rolled my shoulders slightly. “I packed my things, got in my car, and just started driving. I stopped in Nebraska to visit a friend and stayed with her a few weeks. Then, I crossed Devils Tower off my bucket list, and Yellowstone. After that, I wound up here in Bozeman.” I finished off my second donut and smiled. “The mountains are absolutely breathtaking.”
“I’m seriously impressed you drove all this way,” Jamie said with a grin. “The view from a plane doesn’t hold a candle to it. I can promise you that.”
“I’m scared to death of heights, actually,” I admitted quietly which earned a chuckle from Jamie. “I got over mine ages ago,” he said. “I fly between here and Helena all the time and out to DC.” The second mention of Washington made me curious. “Suit and tie — I was guessing lawyer. But now I’m starting to wonder… politician?”
“You’re good, Josie. I was a lawyer for quite some time, until I ran for office. I’m the Attorney General for the state of Montana.” There wasn’t any ego in Jamie’s voice. Maybe a touch of pride, but not the puffed-up kind. Still, I was kind of in awe. I wasn’t sure I’d ever met anyone so high up before.
“What about you, Josie? What do you do for a living?” Jamie asked. “N-nothing quite as impressive as your career,” I said with a laugh, finishing off my last donut and savoring a few more sips of coffee. I was feeling a ramble coming on. I always did when I was nervous.
“I can kind of work from anywhere, I suppose. A self-employment perk. I’m a genealogist, better known as a family historian. I’m also a cemetery researcher. And a bit of a local historian back home, too. It’s not a full business yet… more of a side hustle, at least for now.”
“I’m sure you’ve researched a lot of interesting things over the years,” he said, finishing his last donut and chasing it with a swig of coffee. “As a cemetery researcher… what exactly does that entail?” Jamie asked, one brow raised. It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten that reaction.
“I usually tell people it means just that — I research them,” I joked with a smile. “It kind of goes hand-in-hand with being a genealogist, really.
I do a lot more than just research. I love getting out to the smaller, lesser-known cemeteries and documenting them.” I glanced at Jamie. “Have you ever heard of Find-a-Grave?” He shook his head.
“It’s a website for doing just that… finding graves,” I explained. “You can document cemeteries with photos of tombstones, short bios about the people buried there, and more. I’ve been working on it for about fifteen years now.” If Jamie knew my age… he’d realized that’s just slightly less than half my life.
“Some stones are barely readable, so I always try to get them documented before time or weather erases them for good. It’s a true Godsend for people who want to see their relatives’ graves, but can’t travel — sometimes not even to the next state, let alone across an ocean.”
“I wonder if our family cemetery is on there,” Jamie murmured. “Far as I know, my father’s never let anyone on the land beyond funeral services or putting up a tombstone. Is it easy to look up a cemetery?”
I pulled out my phone and opened the Find-a-Grave app. My fingers moved instinctively through the app. I could do this in my sleep at this point. “Well, if it’s a small family cemetery, it could go by any number of names. I can try searching by a person instead. Do you know an exact name along with a birth and death year off the top of your head?”
“Try Evelyn Dutton. Born in 1960, died in 1997,” Jamie murmured, finishing his coffee. My fingernails lightly clacked against the screen of my iPhone. The search yielded nothing. I always hated coming up empty. It felt like a name… no, a literal person being forgotten to history. “She’s not on here. Can you think of another?”
“John Dutton. Born in 1924, died in 2014,” he offered. I typed it in and once again, nothing. My face fell a bit. A family this prominent, and no digital trace on Find-a-Grave? That was rare. “I don’t think your cemetery is on here at all,” I said, glancing up at him. “I’d love to document it someday… if that would be okay, of course.”
“I’d love that,” Jamie said warmly. “I’ll talk to my father tonight and let you know. I’m flying back out to the capital in a couple hours. If I wasn’t, I might’ve been bold enough to ask you to dinner.” He paused, offering a faint smile. “Forgive the inhospitality.” I found myself wishing he’d had the time. More than I probably should’ve.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You paid for a total stranger’s coffee and donuts, and you’re offering to help me document a cemetery. That’s the opposite of inhospitable,” I said with a smile. “Does your dad live in Helena?” I asked, confident in my state capital trivia.
“Part time,” Jamie said with a chuckle. “He’s the Governor.” My eyes widened. How did I not know the name of Montana’s governor? I probably should’ve brushed up on state politics before planting my feet here.
“Damn… Attorney General son, Governor dad. Talk about a powerful family,” I said, nibbling at my lower lip. Honestly, a little anxiety was starting to creep in. Moments ago, Jamie was just a kind stranger. Now he felt a bit like American royalty. “You don’t even know the half of it,” he laughed. There was a story behind that comment and I suddenly wanted to know all of it.
“Maybe we could do dinner some other time,” I said shyly. “Will you be out of town long?” I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud, but I meant it. The thought of going to dinner with a man like him excited me beyond what I can even describe.
“The rest of the week, I’m afraid. I’ll be home around midday Friday. I’ll see if Dad would mind you coming out Friday afternoon to document our cemetery. If that works for you, of course.” I wanted to stutter out: this… this Friday? Of course he meant this Friday! It felt like tomorrow and five years from now all at once.
“Yeah. I mean… I don’t have anything else going on,” I said with a laugh. “I might even see if this place is hiring. Doesn’t look like a bad place to work.” I glanced toward the barista.
She looked friendly enough, and this place didn’t seem nearly as chaotic as Starbucks. I wouldn’t mind waking up early every day if it meant free coffee and a couple friendly faces.
“I didn’t realize you weren’t working yet. A proper job, I mean,” he said softly. I shrugged. I wasn’t embarrassed… not exactly. I was just tired of explaining that building a life takes time. That and unfortunately, genealogy didn’t pay enough to take care of ones bills. It was side hustle level money, not CEO level.
“Gotta have one to pay rent,” I said with a laugh. “I haven’t found a decent, affordable place of my own yet. I’m staying with a friend until I do. Who knows, she might let me crash long term as long as I help with the bills.”
“Is she from around here?” Jamie asked. I shook my head. “A job brought her here a couple years back. She’s originally from Southern California. Which… reminds me. Any guesses yet on where I’m from?” I grinned.
Jamie leaned back again, just like he had earlier and looked me over. It felt like he was memorizing me somehow. I wasn’t sure whether to feel like someone was mesmerized by me or perhaps… exposed. Maybe both. I liked it.
“If I guess correctly… would you be up for a walk in the park?” Well… we’d finished our coffee and donuts, so continuing the conversation like that sounded kind of nice.
“Deal,” I jumped at the invitation with a grin. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he delivered his guess: “Western Kentucky. I’d bet my life on it.” I blinked a few times, stunned he’d guessed it so easily. My accent wasn’t that obvious… was it? “Am I correct?” Jamie asked, clearly amused. He already knew he was.
“I bet you can’t guess the city,” I mumbled with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m born and raised in Western Kentucky. How in the world was it that…” I caught myself, stopping short of finishing my question. He was a politician.
“You’ve been to Kentucky for political rallies, haven’t you? Fancy Farm’s infamous for them.” I’d grown up watching those rallies on local TV. It always amazed me how many people came for the spectacle — not the politics. I’d never had the opportunity.
Jamie grinned. “But you’re not from Fancy Farm, are you?” Still quizzing me. I shook my head. “You already knew that,” I said, slowly rising from my seat. He was enjoying this game and truthfully, so was I. Jamie stood too, smoothing out a few creases from his slacks and suit jacket.
“I could guess towns for hours, Josie,” he said as we walked toward the door. Like a true gentleman, he held it open for me. I wasn’t used to kindness or chivalry. Where I came from, doors slammed more than they opened for you. Men with real manners? They were all fifty plus years old with wives, kids, and grandkids.
“Thank you,” I whispered, walking past him and out onto the sidewalk along West Main Street. “Cooper Park is a few blocks away. Did you drive or walk here?” Jamie asked.
“I walked,” I said, pointing just to the left. “My friend has a one-bedroom at The Freestone. Hence why she’d love some help with the bills.” Jamie drew in a sharp breath and shook his head. “You’re not kidding. That’s one of the newest complexes in Bozeman. Steep price tag to match.”
“Let’s take my car to the park then. I’ll drop you off after our walk?” he offered. I nodded slowly. When he unlocked his car, I stepped up to the passenger side and he opened the door for me.
Again, I wasn’t used to kindness like this. I slid into the seat and looked up, meeting those striking blue eyes. “Thank you,” I said again, offering him a smile.
Once he was in the car, the questions resumed. “Did your friend live somewhere else in Bozeman before getting a place at The Freestone?” I nodded once more. I liked that he was curious. Genuinely curious. Not prying for information that could be used against me at a later date. It seemed like he genuinely cared.
“The company she’s working for — it was technically a transfer job,” I explained. “When she first got here, they put her up in a nice hotel for a month. During that time, she made a good enough friend who let her crash in the guest room until she saved up enough for her own place.”
“You’d be amazed how much this city’s grown in the last twenty years. Mind-blowing, really,” Jamie murmured as he drove the few blocks from Wild Joe’s to Cooper Park. There was something in his tone. Nostalgia, maybe. Or something heavier, perhaps different all together.
The whole ride, the butterflies in my stomach were raging. I kept my hands folded in my lap, trying to play it cool. I’d gaze out the window every now and again, then glance back his direction. I was in the car with a perfect stranger. I knew nothing about him beyond his name and his title. But I didn’t feel unsafe.
Jamie seemed like a put-together family man… and honestly, that thought made me sigh a little inside. That kind of man never showed up in my world. Not unattached, anyway. There was no doubt in my mind… Jamie was a man that was already claimed. Spoken for. He was… unavailable.
He’s a politician, Josie. A natural-born flirt with years of practice. He’s just being nice. Probably hoping you’ll remember his name on a ballot coming next election. No way a man like that doesn’t have a wife and three kids waiting at home.
Even if he did have a wife and kids, that wouldn’t stop me from being friendly. I was determined to document his family cemetery. It’s what I do. Preserving family history didn’t come with a romantic clause. Not usually, anyway.
There was nothing illicit about it. Nothing inappropriate. Who knows, maybe meeting him was the break I needed. Especially if I ever got to meet his father. I wouldn’t humor that idea too much… it felt too impossible. But a part of me — the dreamer part — wanted to believe it wasn’t impossible at all.
“Tell me about your hometown,” Jamie said as we stepped out of the car and started toward the park path. I was grateful it was only in the mid-sixties today. Back home? It was probably pushing ninety. The breeze here felt softer, less like a punishment. I loved the low humidity.
“I’m sorry if I went silent,” I said softly, realizing that I’d been far too quiet. The kind of quiet that sneaks up when your thoughts drift someplace that you’d almost rather be. It hits you a little bittersweetly.
“When you talked about how Bozeman has really exploded in the last handful of years, it reminded me of home. I’m from Henderson, Kentucky. Not sure if it’s ever been on one of your political stops or not.”
“Henderson,” he repeated, thoughtful. I could tell he’d put his thinking cap on. “I think I’ve been there. Right on the river, isn’t it?” The butterflies returned in full force. Just the thought that he’d been in my hometown… I wish I’d met him then. Maybe he’d have been my reason to stay. That was a silly thought… wasn’t it? A reason to stay home.
Then again… he wouldn’t have relocated for a girl like me. And let’s be honest — he was probably married back then, too. I wasn’t about to become some politician’s mistress. I definitely didn’t want to be anyone’s second choice.
“That’s the one,” I nodded. “Truth be told, I never thought I’d leave. I’m an only child, always been really close to my parents. A lot of my friends moved away for school or jobs, but that never really appealed to me.”
I liked the thought of a quiet, hometown kind of love. The Sunday dinners and porch conversations. Not everyone understands that. Instead, they went off to chase college debt, and hopes of finding a rich man to help them pay off that debt.
“So why did you leave?” I hated that question… but I’d been waiting for it. “I guess I felt like my parents had earned the empty nest. After all these years, it was time. And I can still be a Henderson historian and genealogist without physically being there. I know that town like the back of my hand. I know the lineages of each family as intimately as I know my own.”
“I can’t argue with that. You can absolutely be a genealogist or historian from anywhere. Cemetery researcher, too,” he added with a grin. The fact that he remembered that part of what I do, it meant more than I expected. Considering I was trying to get into his family’s cemetery… he wasn’t wrong about that at all.
“Was there anyone back home who didn’t want you to leave?” The question surprised me. It was deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer right away. I wasn’t used to someone asking things that mattered. I was trying to absorb the fact that someone gave a shit enough to ask the hard-hitting questions.
“Well… my best friends, of course,” I said softly. “My soul sisters, as I call them — Danielle, Sierra, Allison, Julie, and Leslie. Sierra’s lived two hours away for a while now. Allison moved back for a bit… then moved again. Two hours in the opposite direction,” I laughed.
“They’d have loved it if I’d stayed home. But, they’re my biggest cheerleaders. Always encouraging me to pursue the unknown. Take a leap of faith, I guess,” I explained. “Taking a leap of faith,” Jamie said softly, “is never a bad thing. Took a pretty big one just to run for office. And now look at me.”
His words were strangely comforting. Jamie had started out as a hometown lawyer, it sounded like and now, he was the Attorney General of Montana. It was a leap, sure. But maybe not as impossible as I sometimes made things seem.
He kept a busy schedule it sounded like. Flying between here and Helena, plus trips to Washington D.C. I couldn’t help but think about his wife. He had to be married. I wondered if she traveled with him… or waited at home. I knew if I were his wife, I’d go everywhere with him that I possibly could.
“You’re right. The risk’s worth the reward sometimes, huh?” I asked. His smile shifted into something closer to a smirk. “That’s the perfect way to put it, Josie.”
We’d already made one full lap around the park and were starting our second. We weren’t walking slowly, but we weren’t rushing either. I wouldn’t call it a power walk… but maybe that’s exactly what it was.
An empowerment walk.
“How long have you been interested in family history and cemeteries?” Jamie asked, continuing his gentle line of questions. I didn’t mind at all. Honestly, I was an open book. I didn’t like lies, and I hated secrets even more. I was just shy. And he could probably tell. I much preferred answering questions over asking them. Asking felt like intruding. Answering felt like trusting.
“I’ve been working on my family tree since I was a little kid. My mom’s side has lived in my hometown for generations. No matter where you go, you’re bound to bump into a cousin or two.” Honestly, that was an understatement. “As for cemeteries, I grew up right beside one. It’s where I learned to ride a bike. So many formative memories happened there.”
“I imagine a number of your kin are buried there,” he murmured. I nodded. “A set of my great-grandparents. Great-great-grandparents. Even great-great-great-grandparents. Not to mention a few dozen cousins some-odd removed, etcetera. Somehow, some way, I’m kin to just about everyone in that town.”
“Honestly? That’s pretty neat,” Jamie said as we neared a park bench. Instead of continuing for another lap, we opted to sit, soaking up the early summer sun. The warmth on my shoulders felt earned somehow — like the reward for saying things I was feeling out loud. Hopefully I wouldn’t get a sunburn.
“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” he said quietly. “As far as I know… the Dutton line ends with us. My dad doesn’t even have first cousins.” That kind of silence in a family line? I couldn’t imagine it. My roots were too plentiful. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what that must feel like.
“Oh gosh. That’s devastating he doesn’t have any first cousins. But I’m sure he’s got oodles of third and fourths,” I said with a laugh. I couldn’t imagine not having extended family. That web of connection meant everything to me as a genealogist.
“Do they even matter, when they’re that far removed?” Jamie asked, one brow raised. “Of course they matter. You share DNA. Even if you’ve never met them. They’re still branches on your family tree.” I got the feeling this conversation was heavy for Jamie. There was a hint of rigidity in his — until now — soft blue eyes. Something about family stirred something deeper in him. Something unresolved, perhaps.
But then, with a small smile, he asked another question. “Being so into history, Josie… do you ever wish you were born in a different time?” These were the kinds of questions I lived for. I loved talking about life, death, and everything in between. Questions like that cracked open the soul, not just the surface.
“All the time,” I murmured, nodding. “There’s a part of me that wishes I’d been born around the 1830s — just early enough to see the Oregon Trail, the Civil War, and the prairie days that came after. I was a big Little House on the Prairie fan growing up.” Not that it would’ve been easy to live back in that time period. I just wanted to know what it felt like to survive something that big… live through such monumental historical times.
Jamie leaned back on the bench, stretching his right arm out along the backrest. I bit my lower lip, the temptation to lean back into his touch was strong. So tempting. So inviting. Even if “homewrecker” was a complete fucking myth… I wasn’t about to be labeled one by some small-town gossip.
“Maybe this isn’t your first time coming out west, Josie,” Jamie said, eyes glinting with something unreadable. I looked at him, curious. “I’ve got a great-great-great-grandmother who moved from Tennessee to Oregon. Not on the Oregon Trail, though. It was after the turn of the century. But maybe… who knows.” I gave him a polite shrug.
“Since you’re so into your family tree, blood and DNA and all that… do you think people are shaped more by where they come from… or who they choose to be?” Damn. That was a deep one. Exactly the kind of philosophical goodness I lived for.
“Nature versus nurture?” I asked. He nodded. “I think it depends on the person and what’s running through the family genetically. Genetic illnesses? I hate to sound so crass, but… you’re basically fucked.”
It was harsh, but the truth was always better than a beautiful lie. “I say that as someone with a ridiculous number of illnesses running rampant through her family tree.” My voice grew quieter with each word.
I didn’t want Jamie’s pity. Didn’t want him to know the health issues I’d already braved. Or the ones still looming on the horizon. Some things I kept folded deep in my own deck. Unread, unplayed, and undisclosed.
“Genetic conditions aside… I think you can inherit traits,” I continued on. “There are cases of twins raised by different families, states apart. And when they reunited later in life? They realized they had the same favorite band. Took the same electives in school. Some even went into the same line of work.”
“I never knew that,” Jamie murmured, his expression a mix of awe and admiration. “But when it comes to everything else… I think your choices, your free will shapes who you become, Jamie. Some people get dealt a really crappy hand. Others? They’re born with a silver spoon in their mouth.”
And sometimes the hand you’re dealt isn’t even from the same game everyone else is playing. That’s how I’d always felt about the hand I’d been dealt anyway.
“I know all about being dealt a bad hand,” he said quietly. “But I also know a lot about reshuffling the deck and drawing something new. Teenage Jamie could’ve never imagined who I’d become. The man I’ve grown to be,” Jamie admitted.
“Absolutely. Other people can influence us — shape us, in good ways or bad. There’s a quote I really love: Your life is your story. Write well and edit often. I believe in fate, sure. Destiny, too. But I also believe we’re the ones holding the pen. We’re in control, at least most of the time.”
That quote… that’s honestly why I was sitting on this park bench with Jamie Dutton right this very moment. The book of my life needed a new chapter and Montana? This was my new chapter. I planned to make it a lengthy one, and I’d absolutely go back and edit as often as needed.
“Are you proud of yourself for taking that leap of faith? Making a grand life-change? Dealing yourself a new hand?” Jamie asked. I shrugged again. “I guess. Maybe once I start seeing the reward, start feeling it, then I’ll feel proud.”
“Don’t get me wrong, though. I’ve loved traveling. Staying with my friend back in Nebraska, and now with Ashleigh here. But…” Jamie shifted slightly, angling himself so he could look at me directly. “You’re waiting for the real adventure to start?” It was a statement disguised as a question… but he was right.
God help me if this wasn’t the beginning of it. Because I was secretly praying on everything that I am… please let this be the beginning of everything I’ve ever hoped for, dreamed for, and prayed for.
“I think that’s it. Hopefully I’ll know when that grand adventure begins… I just hope it doesn’t slip by unnoticed.” The way he looked at me, I swear he wanted to say something else. I could almost see the words sitting there on the tip of his tongue… but they never came out.
Even though he couldn’t say it aloud, I somehow knew I felt the same way. From the moment I met his eyes in that coffee shop earlier, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d accidentally bumped into my happily ever after. Wouldn’t be the first time a great love story started over coffee and donuts.
“You’ve asked so many questions, Jamie. I feel a little bad, I haven’t asked you much in return. You’ve told me a little about yourself, but I don’t have a whole lot to go on,” I said with a small laugh.
“It’s alright,” he said. “I know my story and you know yours. Right now, I’m more interested in your story. There’s always time for you to learn mine… another day.”
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered again. I knew he was planning to ask his father’s permission for me to visit their family cemetery. Jamie had even hinted that, if he weren’t flying back to Helena tonight, he’d have taken me to dinner. But what he’d just said… That was confirmation he wanted to see me again. Be around me. Share something more.
“I’d love to know your story,” I said softly, meeting his gentle gaze. “Thank you for earlier… the coffee, the donuts. And thank you for right now. I’m glad to say I have two friends in Montana now. If… if I can call you a friend?” He let out a warm, hearty laugh. It was the kind rooted in kindness. And maybe… happiness too.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve made a genuine friend, Josie. In my career — in my world, if you will — I’m surrounded by acquaintances. Alliances. Business relationships,” he explained. When he said the word relationships, it made me wonder just a little.
“If this friendship is going to continue, though…” Jamie continued. And just like that, I felt an anxiety attack creeping in. This was it. The moment I’d been dreading.
This was going to be the talk. The “I have a wife, and there are some ground rules here we need to go over” talk. “We’ll need a way to stay in touch for when we’re not physically together,” Jamie added. What a fucking relief. I was surprised I didn’t float right off the park bench from how light I suddenly felt.
“Oh, right. Of course.” I smiled… no, I practically was beaming while I pulled out my iPhone. “Trade numbers?” I unlocked my phone and handed it over. He looked at it like the moment caught him off guard. Maybe even surprised him a little. After a second, he unlocked his and handed it to me.
“You’ll have to send me your favorite photo of yourself so I can set it as your contact picture,” Jamie said as he typed his info into my phone. “Likewise. You might have to slip me a hint about your favorite song so I can give you a custom ringtone,” I teased.
“That’s something I haven’t done in forever,” he said. “Just… sit around and listen to music with someone. Is that something people still do these days?” It was a rhetorical question from him, I could tell. But I wanted to scream: Yes! Those are my favorite kind of dates!
“Then again… it’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this, too. A wonderful conversation at a coffee shop and in the park,” he admitted. Man, could I relate to that. I’ve loved spending time with Ashleigh, don’t get me wrong. But a conversation like this…? My soul had been craving it.
“It has been wonderful, hasn’t it?” I murmured as we swapped phones again. I noticed he looked at the contact screen and smiled. It was the kind of smile that could have made any woman go weak at the knees. Especially me.
“Josephine,” he said — my full name, slow and intentional. “I should’ve guessed that’s what Josie was short for. I’m so used to being Jamie… I didn’t even think to put James.” He glanced at me, eyes apologetic. Almost bashful. The fact that I could make him look shy… it made me three times as shy.
“You prefer Jamie, don’t you? Even professionally?” I asked. He nodded. “I go by Josie with friends and family, but I’m still Josephine. It doesn’t feel foreign at all. Actually… I kind of liked how you said it.” I couldn’t believe I’d said it out loud. For a moment, I thought I noticed a faint pink color to his cheeks.
“You’re Josie to me,” he said, though his grin lingered. “Josephine is formal… elegant. When I see my father tonight, I’m going to tell him I met the most interesting woman today — Josephine Hazelwood.”
Now I was the one blushing. “When Ashleigh gets off work, she’s never going to believe the Attorney General bought me coffee and donuts today. Hell, she might faint when she hears I’m getting access to the Governor’s private cemetery. I’ll have to check that one off my metaphorical bucket list.”
Jamie slowly stood and offered me his hand. That word echoed in my mind again: homewrecker. Still, I accepted his hand and rose beside him. “I’ll have to help you mark more things off your bucket list than just that.” Such a simple sentence and yet my heart felt like it might explode.
“I hate to cut our time short, but I’ve got to get to the airport,” he said with a voice filled with regret. We started walking again, this time heading back toward his car. “How long is the flight?” I asked. “About thirty-five to forty minutes. Not long at all,” he replied.
“Oh wow. That’d feel like a lifetime to me since I’m terrified of heights,” I said quietly. He laughed, but not unkindly. “Sometimes it’s a private Cessna, other times a helicopter. Today’s a helicopter day, I think,” he chuckled. I’d never been in a helicopter and somehow, they seemed even more unsafe.
“I’ll have to take you up sometime — try to help you conquer that fear. Flying enough times eventually gets you past it,” he said with a wink. “I’m… I’m a natural-born worrywart, Jamie. Anxiety problems through the roof,” I admitted with a nervous laugh.
There was no way he hadn’t already noticed just from holding my hand. He had to feel the pounding of my pulse, the slow sweat forming in my palm. “All I can think about are worst-case scenarios when it comes to flying. I flew a few times as a kid with my dad and wasn’t scared at all. I don’t know when the fear took over.”
As Jamie opened the passenger door for me, he looked into my eyes. “As we get older, our perception of the world changes. You were probably just old enough to hear about a plane crash or something equally tragic… and now it’s shaped how you think about flying.”
Damn… Jamie was right. Now that he’d said it, I could almost guarantee that September 11th, 2001 is the root of my fear. Not heights in general or just planes. Flying of any kind in any thing. Being in the air, period.
Once we were both in the car, I glanced over at him, biting shyly at my lower lip. “Is it ridiculous of me to ask you to text me when you land? Just because I’m not the one in the sky… doesn’t mean I won’t be worried sick until you’re back on the ground.”
“I assure you, Josie; concern for my safety will never make you seem ridiculous. I’ll be glad to let you know when I land safe and sound. I don’t like the idea of you sitting here as a ball of anxiety while I’m up in the air.” His voice was so soft. Maybe even caring.
The drive to Ashleigh’s apartment complex was far too short. I wanted the conversation to keep going through sunset, maybe all the way until the sun rose again. But it just wasn’t meant to be. Not today.
“Thank you, Jamie,” I said softly, reaching for the door handle. But to my surprise, he’d already parked and walked around to my side, opening the passenger door for me himself. “You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered. He chuckled warmly.
“My parents raised me with manners, Josie,” he murmured. My heart caught in my throat as he slowly leaned in and grazed my cheek with his lips. “Those same manners are why I’ll say this: the pleasure has been all mine today. I look forward to repeating it very soon. I’ll talk to my father about this Friday and the cemetery and I’ll text you when I land.”
A gentleman like this… How was he not already someone’s special someone? How?! He had to be. And that’s the only reason I didn’t kiss him back on the cheek. He deserved one. God, I wanted to give him a real kiss — wanted it to be our first kiss. Right here. Right now.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t the right time. With everything I am… I knew it wasn’t time.
“I look forward to hearing from you and seeing you again on Friday,” I said softly. I pulled away and gave him a small smile, paired with the tiniest wave, before disappearing into the complex.
I had only met this man a few hours ago, and already it felt like half my heart was soon to be boarding a helicopter to Helena. I’d have to lose myself in something this week — anything and everything — just to pass the time. But I already knew it would be in vain.
When I stepped through the door of Ashleigh’s apartment — our apartment, at least for now — I knew. No matter what I threw myself into over the next few days, my mind would only be on one thing. And it wasn’t the family cemetery.
It was going to be a near six-foot-tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed politician. I hated myself for it. Thank God Ashleigh wasn’t home. I could feel the panic attack coming on fast. The moment I closed the door, I let myself lean back against it. The only sound in the room was my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I left home to get away from things like this. And here I was — what felt like a million miles from everything and everyone I knew… ready to do it again. Fall hard, fall fast, and fall ridiculously recklessly.
I had a feeling Jamie Dutton might put me on the highest cloud I’d ever been on… And when it came crashing down — and I knew it would — I’d crash and burn harder than ever before.
All I could do was pray this time would be different. Keep taking that leap of faith…
(7,770 words -- roughly 21 pages)