Black Hills

back in his eyes. “You never said—”
    “What was the point? I felt stuck. He can make you feel like you don’t have a choice, like he’s right, you’re wrong. And Christ, he knows how to make you toe the line. That’s why he’s good at what he does. But I don’t want to do what he does. Be what he is. I started thinking of all the years I’d have to put into becoming what I didn’t want to become. I’m done with it.”
    “I wish you’d told me before. I just wish you’d told me you were so unhappy with all this. We could’ve talked about it.”
    “Maybe. I don’t know. But I do know this whole deal’s about him, not me. Him and my mother, and their endless war, and endless pursuit of the right appearances. I’m finished with it, too.”
    Her heart broke a little for him. “Did you have a fight with your parents before you left?”
    “I wouldn’t call it a fight. I said some things I wanted to say, and I got an ultimatum. I could stay and work in the family firm this summer or he’d cut me off. Financially, as he’s cut me off in every other way since I was a kid.”
    They forded a stream in silence, just the splash of hooves through water. She couldn’t imagine her parents stepping away from her, not in any way. “So you came here.”
    “It’s what I’d planned to do, what I wanted to do. I’ve got enough money to get my own place. I don’t need much. I was never going back to live with my mother anyway. Just never going there again.”
    A little bubble of hope swelled inside her. “You could stay here, with your grandparents. You know you could. Help out at the farm. You could go to school out here, and—”
    He turned his head toward her, and she felt that little bubble pop and dissolve. “I’m not going back to college, Lil. It’s not for me. It’s different for you. You’ve been planning what you were going to study, what you were going to do, ever since you saw that cougar. And decided to chase cats instead of pop flies.”
    “I didn’t know you were so unhappy. I get law wasn’t your choice, and it was unfair of your father to push you there, but—”
    “Fair’s not the point.” He shrugged, a gesture of a young man too used to unfair to be bothered by it. “It’s not about that, and from now on it’s not about him. It’s about me. The whole college scene? That’s not about me.”
    “Neither is staying here, is it?”
    “It doesn’t feel like it, not yet or not now anyway. I don’t know what I want, for sure. Staying would be easy. I’ve got a place to stay, three squares, work I’m pretty good at. I’ve got family, and you.”
    “But.”
    “It feels like settling, before I know. Before I do something. Out here, I’m Sam and Lucy’s grandson. I want to be me. I enrolled in the police academy.”
    “Police?” If he’d leaned over and shoved her off her horse she’d have been less stunned. “Where did that come from? You’ve never said anything about wanting to be a cop.”
    “I took a couple of courses in law enforcement, and one in criminology. They were the only things I liked about the whole pile of crap these last two years. The only things I was any good in. I’ve already applied. I’ve got enough course credits to get in, and I’ll be twenty when I start. It’s six months’ training, and it just feels like I’d be good at it. So I’m going to try it. I need something that’s mine. I don’t know how to explain it.”
    She thought, I’m yours, but kept the words to herself. “Have you told your grandparents?”
    “Not yet.”
    “You’ll be working in New York.”
    “I’d’ve been going to school back east,” he reminded her. “And if everyone but me had their way, working in legal in my father’s company back there. Wearing a suit every fricking day. Now I’ll be doing something for me, or at least trying to. I figured you’d understand that.”
    “I do.” She wished she didn’t. She wanted him there, with her. “It’s just . . . so far away.”
    “I’ll come out when I can. As soon as I can. Maybe Christmas.”
    “I could come to New York, maybe on semester break, or . . . next summer.”
    Some of that sad lifted from his face. “I’ll show you around. There’s a lot to do, to see. I’ll have my own place. It’s not going to be much, but—”
    “It won’t matter.” They’d make it work, somehow, she told herself. She couldn’t feel this way about him, about them, and not make it work. “They