Saturday, August 9, 2025 — Nicolaysen Art Museum lawn, Casper

“Terry, you look tied to a porch rail. You OK, old man?”

Terry’s voice is lower. “I thought it was gonna be like last time, Mr. Wendell. And I’m pretty sure I’m younger’n you are.”

Wendell Halvorsen¹ smiles. He rolls back the cuffs on his western shirt. Stabs a piece of shredded BBQ pork and lifts it into his mouth.

Claire places her hand on top of Terry’s. “Terry, go to the bar and get yourself a Coors. I made sure they had it for you.”

“Thanks Claire. Can I get you something?”

“Get me an Eagle Rare if they have it” Bobby says.

Claire shoots him a look.

“What? It’s a celebration, honey.”

“Just one or two. She says.”

“Reverend?” Bobby asks.

“I’m good, Bobby. I’m going to stick with iced tea.”

“Peggy?”

“I’m good too, Bobby,” she says.

“Just the whiskey. I got ya, boss,” Terry says.

Garrett swipes his phone. “Eat honey,” Claire says.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat something please, Garrett. You need to keep your weight up.”

Bobby turns to Reverend John Ostrom. “That was a nice opening, John.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”

“You been fishing?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Platte?”

“Yeah over on Miracle Mile². I like to beach the drift boat and fish my spots.”

“Where are those?”

“I gotta see you in the pews a few weeks in a row before I share that.”

Bobby laughs. “Fair enough, Reverend.”

“Caught a nice brown the other day. Twenty-three inches. Bite like a thunderclap.”

“You’ve got the good lord on your side I guess.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Terry arrives back at the table. He hands Bobby his whiskey. Bobby takes a slow sip. He looks back at John.

“That phrase you used: beloved community. That’s nice,” Bobby says.

“What does that mean to you, Bobby?”

“I don’t know. Maybe respect, taking care of each other, giving help.”

“Sure. Mercy. It’s all of those things individually. But it’s justice too. Working together to make systems more humane: ‘But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness.’”

Bobby takes another long sip. “I think there are some people that just don’t deserve what they’re asking other people for.”

“We’re all God’s children, Bobby. ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.’”³

“Bobby, there’s Lisa and Rand, come on we need to say hello,” Claire says. She puts her hand on his shoulder, standing up quickly.

“Later, Reverend,” Bobby says.

“Claire what a pretty dress,” Peggy, Reverend John’s wife, says.

“Aw thanks Peg.” Claire brushes down the cream silk dress with prairie roses at the yoke and hem. “We’ll be right back.”

Lisa⁴ is laughing loudly. She’s wearing an emerald silk sheath, fitted to the knee. The fringe of her cropped lambskin jacket waves back and forth with her movement.

Her husband Rand stands next to her, drink in hand. Bright white smile showing.

“Hey Lisa, how are you doing?”

“Oh, hey girl! This turned out great, didn’t it?” Lisa grabs Claire and pulls her in for a squeeze.

Rand extends a hand to Bobby. They shake and introduce themselves.

Lisa pulls Claire away by the hand. “You boys talk to each other. You’ll have a lot in common. I need to talk with Claire about something.”

“So good to finally meet you, Bobby,” Rand says with a polished smile.

“You too. I hear you’re doing carbon capture or something?”

“Yeah. I run a development fund for carbon capture projects here in the basin. I used to be in oil. Basically a banker now that writes checks to scientists and engineers.”

“I heard, uh, president coming back... making it hard for environmental things like that?”

Rand smiles. “Actually, no. BBB gave us better 45Q tax credits⁵, lower cost and faster permitting for projects. The wind and solar guys are getting their goodies taken away but the feds are doing right by us. Cheyenne is tripping over themselves to keep up. Business friendly goes a long way in this state.”

“Interesting. So, how does that all work?”

“Well it’s complicated,” Rand pauses to take a sip of his drink. “There are a bunch of entities, power plant and pipeline operators, landowners, regulators that have to work together to get a project up, running and financially sustainable. Takes a ton of money too. We pull all of these together to make it work.”

“Oh. No, I meant — how do you take something out of the air and stick it underground like that?”

“The science is really cool, actually. I’m just the deal man, but I’ll try and explain it, OK?”

“Yeah. Please.” Bobby stands ramrod straight, eyes settled, arms crossed.

“So you’ve got the coal-fired power plants, like the Dry Fork up in Gillette⁶. That’s where we test a bunch of tech and run pilots.”

“Plant operators think this whole thing is a giant pain in the ass and they don’t want to mess with it. So you have to work with regulators and investors to get the financial incentives in place. Make it worth the hassle.”

“OK,” Bobby says.

“The outflow from the smokestack is captured with a system of special membranes. That’s a whole long story. But assume the membranes catch a lot of the carbon and then it gets compressed and cooled into a fluid for transport.”

“How does it get transported?”

“Best way is through a pipeline. That means we have to work with a pipeline owner to create a spur between the power plant and storage site. We have to figure out how to pay for that and get the spur into the company’s plans. Not easy.”

“Then at the site, it’s basically like an oil well, only we’re injecting the fluid into the ground instead of pulling it out. We learned a lot about this during the fracking boom.”

“You all have a bunch of these storage sites?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah, a good site has porous rock deep underground to store the stuff, easy enough access for a pipeline. Depleted oil reservoirs work great. We pump it into saline aquifers here in the basin. The salt water combines with the CO2 and sinks further down into the rock.”⁷

“Man, I love hearing about this stuff. So interesting.” Bobby takes another sip of his drink.

“Hell Bobby, I’ll take you out to one of our portfolio company sites. Have their science guys give you a tour some time,” Rand says.

“I’d love that!”

The men quietly look out at the event crowd.

“Hey. I hear you’ve got a big project going over on the ranch.”

“Oh. I’m... not allowed to talk about that. How’d you hear about it?”

“Don’t worry. Chase and Merry keep your business confidential. Somebody saw those white Anderson Survey trucks coming and going off your property. They told somebody who told Lisa. You know how this town is. I put two and two together. So it’s true?”

“Rand, I really can’t talk about it.”

“Hey, I respect that, Bobby. Once you can, I’d love to buy you a steak dinner and talk about it. Chase and Merry have helped on a couple of easement issues. It’s good to have local knowledge working for you.”

“That sounds great, Rand.”

Nearby, Lisa laughs. “Girl, you should have come to the whiskey tasting.”

“I know. I had a bunch of things to nail down here though.”

Lisa lowers her voice. “Oh my god Jen Warner’s dress. That neckline was on the floor! And believe me Jason paid top dollar for those things.”

Claire covers her mouth with her hand. She looks across the room at Jen and Jason.

“You hunt?” Rand asks Bobby.

“When I can. Which ain’t much these days.”

“I’ve got this little spread outside Houston. Dove starting next month. I do quail weekends for friends and clients. Quick flight down there. You and Claire should come down some time.”

“That’s really kind, Rand. I’ll talk to Claire about it.”

“People loved the step and repeat!” Lisa says to Claire, her hand on the other woman’s wrist.

“Yeah, you were so right about that.” Claire smiles.

“They just want photos in nice dresses for the socials. ‘Look at me I’m doing a good thing and I look hot!’” Lisa laughs.

“Listen, Lisa...” Claire says.

“Oh my god the centerpieces are so pretty. Did you do those?”

“Me and volunteers, yeah. About the conversation at the cafe...”

“Gorgeous,” Lisa continues.

“I’m sorry. You were right. Nobody seems to care about the valet parking,” Claire says.

“Girl, that’s water under the bridge.”

“I appreciate that Lisa. I think I’ve just been a little set in my ways.”

“Uh-oh, here comes Sally,” Lisa says, crooking her neck in that direction.

“I hear your older brother is in PE?” Rand asks Bobby.

“Yeah. He moves money around for people. Some kinda banker. Finance. I’m a rancher; I don’t know the difference.”

Rand chuckles. “Well we’re raising fund three now⁸. Could be a really good investment opportunity for his firm. Would you be willing to make an intro?”

“Sure. No problem Rand.”

Rand slaps Bobby on the back. “Man it is good to finally talk to you. Let’s get you another whiskey!”

“You ladies talked to Linda?” Sally asks excitedly.

“What’s up,” Claire asks.

“We’re up 20% on attendance and silent auction is looking like 40% up.”

Lisa turns to Claire again. “We did it girl!” She pulls her in for a hug. Lisa’s eyes are closed, mouth curled up. Claire stares into middle distance, then gives the other woman a squeeze and separates.

“I’m so proud of both of you,” Sally says. “I knew you’d work together to make this a success.”

“Aw, we couldn’t have done it without you, Mrs. President!” Lisa chirps. “I gotta go find Rand and give him an update.” She moves off through the crowd.

Bobby plops back down in his chair at the table. Garrett is still staring into his phone. Terry and Wendell are talking about the baler again.

“Hey Bobby,” Wendell says, “what were you and Houston talking about over there?”

Bobby takes another sip. Ice clanks down into the empty glass.

“Oh, you know. He was explaining his carbon capture business. Looking for money from my money man brother.”

“Ain’t we all?” Wendell says.

“Ain’t we all what?” Bobby replies.

“Ain’t we all looking for more money?”

Bobby laughs. “Yeah, I guess we are, Wendell.”

1. Wendell first appeared as the neighbor mentioned by Bobby during the baler crisis in Plain words. ↩

2. The Miracle Mile is a famed ~5.5-mile tailwater stretch of the North Platte below Kortes Dam, between Pathfinder and Seminoe reservoirs. It’s Wyoming’s most-fished trout water and part of the same tailwater system as the Grey Reef stretch through Casper. ↩

3. “Beloved community” is a theological concept developed by philosopher Josiah Royce and made central to civil-rights theology by Martin Luther King Jr. The verses Pastor John cites are Matthew 23:23 (”justice, mercy and faithfulness”) and Galatians 3:28 (”neither Jew nor Greek…”). Bobby’s resistance to the framing is the same resentment that surfaces around Pastor John’s reconciliation arc at First UMC Casper after the 2023 disaffiliation vote. ↩

4. Lisa Hargrove and Claire’s Junior League rivalry was established in Summer in Style; the Nic fundraiser planning thread runs through the boutique and valet beats in subsequent Junior League posts. ↩

5. Section 45Q of the U.S. Internal Revenue Code provides a per-ton tax credit for permanently stored or industrially used CO₂. “BBB” here is shorthand for the recent federal legislation that expanded 45Q’s per-ton value and shortened the permitting timeline, making Wyoming carbon-capture projects substantially more bankable than they were a year earlier. ↩

6. Rand is referring to the Wyoming Integrated Test Center (ITC) at Basin Electric Power Cooperative’s Dry Fork Station outside Gillette: a working coal plant that provides a real flue-gas slipstream for carbon-capture vendors to test pilot equipment at scale. The ITC has been the primary on-the-ground site for U.S. capture-tech demonstration since 2018. ↩

7. What Rand is describing is geological carbon storage: CO₂ injected as a supercritical fluid into porous rock formations a mile or more deep, trapped beneath an impermeable cap, and over years to centuries dissolving into the brine and mineralizing into stable carbonates. Mission Zero’s lab notes on the mechanism: Geological Carbon Storage. ↩

8. Will Colter, Bobby’s eldest brother, runs a private-equity firm. The deal-pressure arc on the ranch was set in motion in Price of belonging; Will’s family meetings and the Colter Reserve pitch frame the financial pressure Rand is now circling. ↩

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. See character conversations at LindenSBlaine.com/wild-as-her.

Monday, August 4, 2025 — Colter Ranch, outside Casper

Claire’s phone rings. She can barely hear it over the simmer. She looks up from the stovetop. Hard taco shells and shredded cheddar cheese sit out nearby.

She steps over to the phone, wooden spoon in hand. It’s red from the seasoning.

She can see the caller:

Sim Booker

Claire mutes the phone and turns it over; moves back to the stove. The screen door slams. Bobby is on the phone. He’s loud.

“Ricky. Terry is in the truck headed that way. Do NOT close that parts counter until he gets there.”

Bobby stands in the doorway, phone to his ear.

“It’s a Deere 560 Baler[1]. The net advance is off. Don’t know if it’s the sensor or what.”

Bobby paces, then struggles to remove his right boot with his left foot.

“Don’t say that, Ricky. Ricky. I’ve got windrows dry on the ground. I’ve got rain coming in the morning. That FUCKING machine you sold me won’t advance right.”

He gets the right boot off. Stands in one white sock. Phone to ear still. He reaches down and yanks the left boot off. Drops it with a clatter.

Claire looks over.

“Fine. Order it. But Ricky, I need you and Terry to look through that warehouse to make sure you don’t have one lying around. I’m serious. OK?”

Bobby puts the phone back in his pocket.

“Fuck me,” he says.

“What’s going on, baby?” Claire asks.

“Baler’s fucked up again. Dad’s lasted what, 28 years? Could repair in the field with a wrench. Now all I get is some fucking error code and a tangle[2].”

“I’m sorry baby. Will you all be able to break for dinner? I’m making tacos.”

“No. I’ve got to grab something and then I’m headed back out. Can you just leave four plates out? Me, Garrett, Terry. Wendell is over too. He’s trying to help us figure out the problem.”

“Yeah baby.”

“I appreciate you.”

“Bobby I’m’ headed to town a little later. Need me to pick up anything for you all?”

“What for?”

“Junior League thing I have to pick up. For the Nic event.”

“A handle of Makers. And a pistol.”

“That’s not funny, baby.”

“I know. Rough day. We were doing so well, Claire. We lose this hay to moisture and I’m paying through the nose to get ready for the winter.”

“I know baby. You’ll figure this out. Fingers crossed.”

Monday, August 4, 2025 — Morad Park, Casper / Main Street, Lander

Sim is walking down Main Street, from the Yoga Collective back to The Noble. She’s got her worn mat under her arm.

Her phone rings. She checks it:

Claire

She stops and takes in a deep breath. Smiles into the phone.

“Hey, Claire, how are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Good. Just walking back from yoga. You?”

“I’m at the park. Got dinner on the table for Bobby and the crew. I saw you called earlier. Sorry I couldn’t talk then.”

“No worries. I just wanted to see how you are. You know, catch up like we used to.”

“I’d love that. I have time now. Tell me what you’re up to.”

“I’m still here in Lander,” Sim says, looking down Main. “Teaching the September climbing course in Sinks Canyon.”

“That sounds amazing! Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yeah. I’m super excited. Great kids in summer session. Looking forward to more of that.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks. Some friends and I are headed to Ten Sleep to get in some reps before the class starts. What’s going on at the ranch?” Sim asks.

Claire exhales. “Another hay emergency. Some issue with a baler. Bobby’s about to have a heart attack.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why he still gets so upset. He’s planning to sell the place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He and his siblings signed an agreement. Developers are here off and on looking at the location. Will be vacation homes in a few years, I guess[3].”

“Wow. How do you feel about that?”

“Relieved. Sad... I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really thought about it much. I’ve been so focused on Bobby and Garrett. Nobody’s really asked me how I feel about it.”

“That sounds like a huge change for you.”

“Yeah. Honestly... I don’t know who I am outside of the place. Without being a wife and mom.”

“Listen...” Sim says.

“I don’t regret what we did[4],” Claire says.

A long silence. “I’m... glad to hear that,” Sim says.

“I don’t know what happens next. But I... just...”

Sim paces in the same spot on Main. She squeezes her eyes shut.

“Claire... I think I love you.”

Claire inhales sharply. “I... I feel the same way.” She turns the dial on the AC. The Lexus idles.

She stares through the windshield at the river. There’s a thin ribbon of yellow sun under a blanket of blue-gray clouds. It reflects on the smooth North Platte, barely rippling at the shore.

Tricos and caddis are swarming. They land and get swept by the current. Rainbows shoot up and strike them, sometimes leaping halfway out of the water[5].

“I don’t think I can go back to just being friends,” Sim says. She leans against the brick facade of the building.

“I... I loved being your friend, but now I want more too,” Claire says.

“Do you think you could be with me?”

“I... I do.”

“Like, openly?”

“Yes... but”

“I’m sorry. I’m pushing you.”

“Sim. I love you. I want to be... I want to be your girlfriend. I want us to be together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I just don’t know how. Not yet,” Claire says.

“That’s... that’s OK,” Sim says, nudging a rock in the sidewalk with her right foot. “Do you think we can see each other again soon?”

“I know we can, baby,” Claire says. “Wait... is it OK if I call you that?”

Sim wipes her eye with the back of her hand. “Yeah. I love that.”

“Baby, I miss you. I wish you were here.”

Sim laughs into the phone.

“What?” Claire asks. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Claire.”

Wednesday, August 6, 2025 — Lander, WY

Sim finishes setting the table. Casey brings in the deep cast iron skillet and sets it on the old brass trivet. It’s shaped like a buffalo.

“Autumn, dinner!” she shouts. Sim sits down. Pours a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. “She’s back at work this week,” Casey says. “It’s always a big adjustment before the kids get back.”

Autumn walks into the kitchen, hugs Sim. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“We didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I’m hungry,” Autumn says. “What did you make, Casey?”

“Just a roasted skillet thingy. Some root veggies from the CSA, chicken thighs.”

“Smells amazing,” Sim says.

They’re all sitting around the skillet now, serving up their plates.

“She is such a good cook,” Autumn says. “I’m so lucky.”

“Fuck yeah, you are,” Casey says.

Autumn smiles and nudges her shoulder with a closed fist.

“So what time are you all leaving on Friday?” Autumn asks.

“As early as the others can get here. Rocco is the wild card. Of course,” Casey says.

Sim smiles after taking a bite.

“I wish I was going, but I’m back in the classroom,” Autumn says.

“I heard. You excited?” Sim says.

“Yeah. Always a little nervous. Those first days we’re all figuring each other out.”

“It’s really awesome you get to keep them all year.”

“Yeah. But it’s a lot. If you have any students that are struggling, and you do every year, you feel really responsible for getting them up to grade level before moving on.”

“I bet so.”

“And she never knows what she might hear from little Hunter or Sadie’s parents about something she taught,” Casey says.

“It’s gotten so bad,” Autumn says.

“Oh no. What kinds of things come up?” Sim asks.

“I got into some trouble last year talking about the government school at Fort Washakie[6]. I teach to the curriculum, but some of the kids asked me if I knew anybody who attended. A grandpa did, and he told me awful stories. I didn’t feel like I should lie to them.”

Casey takes another bite.

“One kid’s mom said something to a school board member she knows. They said I was teaching kids to hate the state of Wyoming. My principal had to go to bat for me.”

“That sucks so bad,” Sim says.

Casey places her hand on Autumn’s. “Fuck those people.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Autumn says. “Sim, you’re sticking around a few more weeks, right?”

“Yeah. Teaching here in September. I’m gone by winter. Back in Jackson guiding ski touring. Not sure what I’ll do in the meantime. Walt and Marian always need help on the ranch.”

“You like living with them?” Autumn asks.

“Love it. Kind of like having another pair of parents. They’re older and whiter though. I’m really lucky though. Housing in the valley has gotten so bad.”

“I believe it,” Casey says. “We get a few more transplants each year. Priced out on a service salary, better chance of making ends meet here working for NOLS.”

“Oh I know. I was hesitant to give up my seniority by bailing on winter here. But the winter clients in Jackson tip really well. And I want to work with Trav and those guys again[7].”

“We’ll miss you,” Autumn says.

“100% correct,” Casey says.

“I love you guys.” Sim takes another bite.

“So Autumn,” Casey says. “Sim has been hooking up with someone pretty.”

“I can’t believe you!” Sim shouts, eyes wide.

“Oh my god, who? Tell me about her,” Autumn says, smiling.

“You guys met her. My friend Claire,” Sim says.

A long silence.

“The rancher’s wife?” Autumn asks.

“That’s what I said!” Casey says[8].

“I thought you were just friends,” Autumn says. Her face hardens.

“I don’t know. We went up to Stough. There was this energy. It was so beautiful. She kissed me. We slept together,” Sim says.

“So you slept with a married straight lady?” Autumn asks.

“That’s what I said,” Casey says. “You don’t even know if she really likes girls.”

“I mean... we’ve talked. It wasn’t just a one time thing. We, uh, love each other.”

“What?” Casey says. “You didn’t tell me THAT.”

“She and I just talked Monday. We both said I love you!” Sim says.

“Sim,” Autumn says.

“I know, it may feel fast, but I really do love this person,” Sim says.

“No honey. It’s not that. This is dangerous,” Autumn says. Her face is stony.

“What do you mean? People get divorced all the time,” Sim says.

“You’re having an affair with some man’s wife. I know you’ve never been in a relationship with a man. It’s different. You hurt his pride, he could be dangerous. You know I lost my sister that way.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t even think about that, baby,” Casey says, her mouth dropping. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No. I’m glad you did. Sim, I NEVER would have thought my brother-in-law was capable of violence. I can’t lose you too,” Autumn says. She’s breathing faster now.

“I’m going to be really careful, Autumn. I promise.”

“Stay away from him. Out of his town.”

“I will.”

Casey reaches across Autumn’s shoulders, and hugs her. She turns to look at Sim.

“Get over here,” Casey says.

Sim gets out of her chair and walks over to embrace both women.

[1] A John Deere 560-class round baler rolls cured hay into roughly 1,500-lb round bales and wraps them in plastic net to shed weather. When the net-advance sensor fails mid-field, the windrows (the long rows of cut hay drying on the ground) stay unbaled; a thunderstorm overnight can drop premium horse hay to feeder grade and force a rancher to buy replacement winter feed at retail.

[2] The Colter ranch, Bobby and Claire’s marriage, and the multi-generational ranch labor that frames this kitchen are established in Perfect on Paper.

[3] The August 1 agreement Bobby’s siblings signed, and the developer pressure on the Colter ranch, surface in August first; the original Colter Reserve pitch is in Price of belonging.

[4] The Stough Creek Basin night Claire is referring to is in The long way down.

[5] Trico mayflies and caddisflies swarm above the slow water of the North Platte through Casper. The rainbows Claire is watching break the surface to take them are why this stretch holds trout big enough to leap clear of the water on the strike: it’s a tailwater fishery downstream of the Grey Reef and Alcova dams.

[6] The federal Indian boarding school at Fort Washakie, opened in the late 1870s as the Shoshone Agency / Wind River Boarding School and run by the Office of Indian Affairs, was part of the assimilation-era system that removed Native children from their families and punished them for using their languages. The Wind River Reservation, shared by the Eastern Shoshone and Northern Arapaho, still carries that history within living memory.

[7] Trav (Travis Mitchell) and the Jackson guiding world Sim is hoping to rejoin are in What we’re holding onto; the broader Lander / Noble / NOLS orbit is in Wide open.

[8] Sim told Casey about the basin night on a Sinks Canyon climb in Against the wall; the long Casey and Autumn relationship is in Reckless optimist.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. See character conversations at LindenSBlaine.com/wild-as-her.

Sunday, July 20, 2025 — Colter Ranch, outside Casper

Claire gets home late afternoon. She pulls the cowboy boots off her feet in the mud room. Her muddy hikers are still in the back of the Lexus.

“That you, Claire?” It’s Bobby.

“Yeah, hon.”

“Don’t look in the kitchen!”

She walks in and sets down her duffel. Bobby has his sleeves rolled up. The dishwasher is open, filled chaotically with dirty plates, bowls and cookware. He’s scraping what looks like congealed beef fat into the trash can.

“Grilled burgers last night,” he says.

“What are you doing in here? Thought you’d be outside.” She approaches him, arms outstretched.

“Lemme wash my hands,” he says.

They embrace. A long hold. She’s staring over his shoulder at the kitchen sink. More dishes stacked there.

“Missed you, baby,” she says quietly, still holding him. He exhales, arms around her. She pulls away and turns toward the sink.

“I wanted to clean up a little before you got home,” he says. “Just us boys. Things got a little messy.”

“I’m going to make dinner.”

“We have leftover burgers.”

“I’ll bet money you didn’t have a single vegetable this weekend, did you?”

Bobby grins. “Frozen French fries in the oven count?”

“Where’s Garrett?”

“Second cut.”

“I’m so proud of him! We might have a rancher on our hands, Bobby.”

Bobby walks over to the coffee pot by the cabinet.

“Coffee?”

“No, I’m good, hon,” she replies.

“How many we feeding tonight?”

Bobby sips his coffee. “Terry’s sticking around. So four of us.”

She opens the fridge and pulls out a packet of ground turkey. Moves across the kitchen pulling out dried pasta, canned tomato sauce.

“How was your trip?” he finally asks.

“Good. We went backpacking. I got a blister.”

“You haven’t done that in thirty years, have you?”

“No. I still had my old boots from college though.”

“That’s great. Where’d you go?”

“Spot outside of Lander up in the Winds. It was beautiful.”

“How’s your friend?”

“She’s good. Enjoying her summer there.”

“She does outdoor stuff, right?”

“Yeah. NOLS is there. The outdoor school for city kids? She works for them.”

“Wow. She must have the patience of a saint.”

“She has good stories. All those people are so sweet there.”

“Bunch of smelly hippies, huh?”

“Be nice, Bobby.” She rolls her eyes at him. The edge of his mouth curls up. “We saw trout rising in that lake up at 10,000 feet.”

“Oh, now we’re talking!”

She shakes her head.

“I like this woman more and more. Does she have a husband I can go fishing with?”

“No. Sorry, honey. She’s not married. No boyfriend either.”

“Oh well,” he says, finishing his coffee and setting the mug down on the counter in front of him. “Hey, we need to talk about that thing with Will and Tom.”

“Of course, what’s going on?”

“We can talk about it later. But Kate thinks that August 1 agreement is coming. Means a big check. But also means we’re selling.”

“Oh honey, yeah, that’s a big decision. Talk about it after dinner?”

“Sounds good. You OK in here? I’m going to head back out. Make sure Terry’s not up to no good.”

“Go. I’ll shout when dinner is ready.”

Bobby walks to the mud room, pulls his boots back on. The door shuts behind him as he heads out toward the barn.

It’s quiet in the kitchen now. Just the ground turkey browning in the pan. She pours in the tomato sauce. Her shoulders relax.

July 22, 2025 — Sinks Canyon State Park, WY

Sim’s Tacoma glides into the Sawmill Campground parking area and stops. She steps out on the driver’s side.

“I thought this was going to be chill. You said Standard Route,” she says, headed toward the tailgate.

Casey slams the passenger door. “C’mon. Let’s CLIMB. You can handle a ten today. We’ve got all the time in the world.” The sun is up over Sinks Canyon. They’re both in well-worn sun hoodies.

“I thought we could catch up though.”

“You can talk and climb.”

“Not if I’m twitching over some ledge with almost no protection.”

The women pick through gear and silently agree who is carrying what. Sim stuffs extra runners in the top of her pack.

“Everything is rebolted. Just use draws when you get uncomfortable.”

“UGH. FINE.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Did you bring enough water?”

“Sim. That was one time. I am prepared. I have to be.”

They cross the highway. They’re just inside the state park boundary.

The approach is short. They scramble up toward the base of the blocky, rounded Tensleep sandstone cliff[1].

“You lead this one,” Casey says, as she starts stacking the strands of her rope. It’s in an old rope bag with frayed edges. The ground here is dry and dusty.

“Sure. But you’re leading the rest.”

“I’m going to talk you into leading pitch three.”

“No, you won’t.”

“We’ll see.” Casey stuffs a snack bar in her mouth and chews. She starts putting on her harness.

“Hey- I need to tell you something. I slept with Claire.”

Casey coughs. Reaches for her water bottle. She guzzles. Swallows.

“Girl! You can’t tell me this in the truck!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t find the right time. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad.”

“But...”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.”

“Sim, she’s married. To a man. I know you like her, but I’m worried about you.”

They have their harnesses and helmets on. They do their belay checks.

“I’m going to climb.”

“Climb on.”

“It just felt... necessary. We were up in Stough. It was such a gorgeous night.”

Sim moves up off the deck, clips a draw into the first bolt. She reaches up for the next handhold, her right foot smearing into the rock.

“I can’t judge. I fucked you up there.”

“Hey!”

She turns to the wall, inhales, and twists her hips open, reaching up for the next hold.

“Sorry. I’ll shut up. Climb.”

Sim continues, move after move.

Casey follows her movement with the rope, providing the right amount of slack for each clip. Sim pushes the cam in with her thumb and forefingers, places it in the crack and tests it. Smooth motion. The familiarity coming back to her. Long, straight arm sweeps as she clips and extends the draw.

She keeps making her way up.

“Making it look easy, girl.”

“Shut up. I’m mad at you right now,” she says, louder to overcome the distance.

Sim slinks over the ledge. Shoulders, then hips, then feet under her. She takes a few breaths, shakes her forearms. Reaches behind for more chalk.

Up off the ledge. Another big sequence, then the anchor bolts, inside an indentation in the wall.

“Take!” Sim says.

“Got you!”

“I’m going to set the anchor, and belay you up.”

Casey makes short work of the pitch. She explodes off the deck, shoulders and core firing. Bounces off the smear.

She blasts over the ledge. Takes a breath, then heaves up the last sequence.

They’re stuck in the crevice together, inches apart now. Both attached to the anchor.

“Listen. I know how you feel about her. I’m happy for you. But I worry.”

“I know.”

“You’re going for it. That’s huge. But can this woman be with you in the same way?”

Silence.

“Is she going to blow up her life for you?”

“I don’t know,” Sim says softly.

Sim stacks the rope. One of Casey’s feet is between Sim’s. The other is hooked outside the crevice.

“I’m just... happy, you know?” Sim says. Voice still quiet.

“I can tell.”

“I love every minute I spend with her. She calls me and it just makes my day. I want to spend more time with her.”

“I get it. Just… don’t get hurt.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“You sure?”

“You’re on belay,” Sim says. They do their safety checks. Casey starts up the second pitch. A deliberate but slower move off the deck, hard smear into the wall. Tiny pinch with her left hand, body leaning right. She inserts the cam and pulls her hand out deliberately, clips, extends.

Another sequence of moves, smooth and steady, feet and hands never too far apart. Shoulders and hips moving together. Second placement.

“She’s doing it all on gear,” Sim mumbles.

Sim steadily lets out slack, watching for a subtle foot twitch or slip off the rock.

“Take!”

Casey sets the anchor. Sim starts up. Faster than before. Still smooth. She gets to the ledge. Casey is stacking the rope as soon as she clips to the anchor.

“Do you even know if she’s a lesbian?” Casey says.

“She seemed pretty queer up at Stough.”

“That’s what I mean, though. How many straight women have you slept with? Looking to experiment. Want to call themselves bisexual. But they know they’ll spend the next 30 years with some guy.”

Sim laughs. “You’re right.”

“You don’t have that option. This is your whole life you’re living.”

“I know.” Sim pauses. “Can I borrow your water bottle?”

Casey twists her body wordlessly. Sim reaches into Casey’s pack and grabs the bottle. She drinks.

“You’re a grown woman, Sim. You don’t need a lecture from me. It’s just... you deserve someone who can love back the same way. You know?”

“I do.”

“OK. Who’s doing this last pitch?”

“I’ll do it. I need to get away from you before you call my mom or something.”

“I fucking knew it!”

“Shut up.”

“Get it then.”

They do their checks. Sim starts off the deck. Side pull, sloper. Good hold. She places the first cam, smoothly now. Clips.

She moves up. Exhaling deliberately.

Places another piece. Another sequence, then a draw. Feet under her, she takes a moment to breathe. She shakes out her forearms. Chalks again. “Climbing!” she shouts, and continues on.

She’s at a cruxy spot. Poor foot placement. One good hand. A scurrying lateral traverse to a good rest and clip. She grits her teeth behind her closed mouth. “Watch me!” she shouts down.

Step, step, pull. She clips and rests. The final sequences are much easier.

“How was it?” Casey asks after she follows up.

“I missed this.”

“What?”

“Climbing the Sinks. Lander. You.”

“We missed you too.”

They snap a couple of photos hanging from the anchor at the top. Then start the raps down.

[1] Three hundred million years ago, the Tensleep Sandstone on this side of Sinks Canyon was sand at the margin of the Panthalassa Ocean; the cliff’s blocky, rounded forms preserve ancient dune architecture.

[2] Standard Route is a classic easy-to-moderate trad line on Sandstone Buttress, Sinks Canyon. Casey’s tease leans on that name; the climb they make here is a harder route on the same crag.

[3] The basin night, morning hike out, and drive back through Sinks toward Lander are in The long way down.

[4] The hike in, camp setup, foot care, and the borrowed-gear domestic beats that land them at Big Stough for the night are in Borrowed things.

[5] Sim’s Lander visit, the Noble / NOLS orbit, and the guide-to-guide lending that makes a spare down jacket plausible are in Wide open.

[6] Close and careful covers the Lander Bar night and walk back to the Noble that charges the morning before the hike in.

[7] Kate’s August 1 timeline and the selling pressure on the Colters surface in August first; the original Colter Reserve pitch is in Price of belonging.

[8] Bobby and Claire in the Colter kitchen extend the marriage and ranch baseline from Perfect on Paper.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. See character conversations at LindenSBlaine.com/wild-as-her.

July 19, 2025 — Stough Creek Basin, Wind River Range

The sun touches the edge of the granitic amphitheater around 7PM. Shadow crosses the basin. Sim and Claire are drinking tea and looking out at the lake. Puffies go back on as the temp drops.

The lake turns a deeper blue. It’s still and silent between wind gusts. A mosquito lands on Claire’s wrist. She smacks it loudly.

“Told you,” Sim says.

The women quietly drink tea. Claire holds the cup up to her face, breathing in the steam.

The alpenglow starts fifteen or twenty minutes later. Pink and magenta on the peaks, deep baby blue in the shadows. Light amber sky behind the ridgeline, fading to blue higher up.

Over time, the amber recedes behind the ridgeline. The light on the still pink peaks contrasts with the deep blue behind them.

Claire takes a long breath in through her nose.

“Trout.” Sim points at the lake.

Claire waits, watching the hatch. A mayfly struggles in the surface film. A cutthroat casually lifts its head to the surface and slurps it down, nose barely leaving the water.

The surface is barely disturbed each time a fish comes up. Maybe a gentle riffle from a tail. Mostly perfect rise rings.

The peaks are now a deep lavender grey. The final rays of sun move down the mountains, then slowly fade away. Another mosquito swat.

The women put their last items in the bear vault and retire for the night.

Sim wakes around midnight. She turns to Claire. Claire is staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open.

“You OK?” Sim asks.

Claire rolls over to face her, sleeping bag bunched around her shoulders.

“Yeah. I love this.”

“Love what?”

“Being here. With you.”

“Yeah this place is the best.” Sim smiles.

Claire reaches her arm out of her bag and slowly brings her fingertips across Sim’s cheek and over her ear. Sim closes her eyes and rubs her cheek against the back of the fingers.

Claire shifts in her bag, propping on an elbow. She leans forward and kisses Sim slowly. Sim frees an arm and runs a hand through Claire’s hair as they continue. Sharp inhale. They both sit up and pull closer. Claire kisses Sim’s neck. Hands search. Deep exhale.

Sim pulls away. “You sure about this?”

“Not sure. But I need you. Kiss me again.”

Zippers rasp open. Layers peel off, underclothes shift or yanked off. Skin meets skin. Their movements are uneven, gasping, urgent.

The rhythm rises and falls. Clumsy and wild. They cling to one another. Push and pull, fingertips grasping.

A steady roll now, hips and hands find one another. Messy, uneven. Unstoppable.

Claire gasps suddenly. Her body arches. Sim’s breath catches in her throat. She shudders. Damp skin collapses onto skin. Sim kisses Claire’s forehead, her shoulder.

Claire breathes raggedly, chest heaving.
Sim strokes her hair. She meets Sim’s eyes.

“Show me how you want to be touched.”

It’s later. They lie under the disheveled sleeping bags, some of the clothing back on against the cold outside. Claire stares forward, looking through the dark at the closed tent door. Sim is behind her, arm wrapped around, one hand stroking her hair.

Silence. Just breath and gentle touch.

July 20, 2025 — Stough Creek Basin, Wind River Range

Coffee on a cold morning. The sun is back over the basin. The lake reflects the range again. Still as glass.

They sit on a rock silently. Sim presses her shoulder against Claire’s. She lets her head rest there. Claire puts a hand on her upper leg. Another Clark’s Nutcracker breaks the silence. A flash of whitish grey body and jet black wings.

They start the hike out.

“Take it slow,” Sim says. “Your foot OK?”

“Yeah, all good.”

“Don’t lie to me, woman. If your sock is a bloody mess at the parking lot, I’m going to be pissed!” She exaggerates the plosive.

A small climb and then back down the ridgeline. They cross the creek, and shed their jackets. Back through the lodgepole dotted saddle next to the bald peak.

Then a slow descent down the switchbacks. Claire steps carefully. Winces occasionally. They break for water. Sim puts fresh moleskin over the bandage on Claire’s foot.

A few more miles and they’re down at the trailhead again.

“Too short coming down,” Claire says.

“I know. I wish you didn’t have to go back so soon.”

“Me too.”

They drop their gear in the back of the truck. Pause for water. Look at one another quietly.

“You ready?” Sim asks.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Sim’s Tacoma zips down Louis Lake Road. Winding with the landscape. Around the reservoir, Frye Lake, Fossil Hill. They ride without talking. Just road noise. Claire checks her phone, looks forward.

Switchbacks up and down another ridge, then they turn onto Sinks Canyon Road. Through the park. Sandstone on one side, granitic on the other. Cottonwood by the river, lodgepole otherwise.

Sim places her right hand above Claire’s knee. She squeezes gently. Claire looks back at her. The corners of her mouth move.

Then they’re back at the Noble. It’s warm. Young people wander in and out of the door. They move Claire’s gear over to the Lexus, Sim takes the loaner backpack and puffy.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Claire says. “Thank you for such a wonderful weekend, Sim. I’ll never forget it.”

Sim steps toward her. Claire pulls her in for a long hug. She pulls away, gets into her vehicle, and drives off.

Sim quietly walks back up the staircase under the stained glass skylight. She wipes away a tear with the back of her hand. Steps through her door.

[1] Terrain overview and a 3D trail view for the Stough Creek Basin approach are on AllTrails.

[2] The hike in, camp setup, foot care, and the borrowed-gear domestic beats that land them at Big Stough for the night are in Borrowed things.

[3] Sim’s Lander visit, the Noble / NOLS orbit, and the guide-to-guide lending that makes a spare down jacket plausible are in Wide open.

[4] Close and careful covers the Lander Bar night and walk back to the Noble that charges the morning before the hike in.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her.

July 19, 2025 — Outside Lander, WY

Sim’s Tacoma stops in the parking lot of the trailhead near Worthen Meadows Reservoir.[1] The dust settles as she gets out and lowers that tailgate. She pulls equipment toward the back of the bed. She’s wearing a bright orange down layer with stains and spots of black repair tape. One of them is shaped like a grizzly bear standing tall.

“More coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Sim pours coffee out of her thermos into Claire’s cup. Claire brings tit up to her face and breathes in the steam. She’s wearing a borrowed down jacket. It’s newer. One of the newer guides had the weekend off.[2]

Sim does her final checks, eyes tracing each piece of gear as she checks against a note on her phone.

Then they sit on the bed, sipping coffee, looking at the trail. The brown peaks ahead are darkened at the base by huge stands of lodgepole pine.

A Clark’s Nutcracker shouts, then quiet.

“I think we’re good. You ready?”

“I am.”

They take off across the meadow. Tall grass, no trees. Claire walks tall under the weight of the borrowed backpack. Dust kicks up on her 30-year-old full leather hiking boots.

Sim wore her five panel hat to the trailhead this morning. Claire pulls a heavily worn gold and brown University of Wyoming Cowboys hat out of her back pocket. She puts it on her head, then takes it off. She adjusts by a couple of snaps, and puts it back on.[3]

“We’ve got plenty of time. We started early,” Sim says.

“I’m fine. Feeling strong.”

They pass Roaring Fork Lake and cross the marsh on a silvered boardwalk.

The switchbacks start as soon as they’re in the shade from the trees. It’s still cool, but Sim sheds her puffy and stuffs it into her backpack.

“Need a snack?”

“We just started.”

Sim smiles. Claire looks back. They start climbing up out of the meadow on the hillside. Dry pine needles cover sections of the trail. Snow just melted weeks ago. The ground still gives in places.

Claire pauses to adjust her pack straps. Sim takes a sip of water. They both glance up at the granitic slopes on either side of them. Patches of snow still hide in the shadows.

“Good?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Slower up the steep switchbacks. They walk along a ledge about 500 feet above the meadow and marsh. They can see the southern tip of Roaring Fork Lake. Claire stashes her jacket. She’s red-cheeked.

“Drink some water.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

She unscrews her water bottle and takes a long drink.

“You having fun?”

“Of course. It’s gorgeous. Haven’t spent enough time around here.”

“Yeah. If this was anywhere near a big city it would be packed. We’ll see a few folks on the trail. Maybe.”

They continue the uphill climb. More switchbacks through pines, boulders, dust.

Sim stops.

“Hey, bear,” she shouts.[4]

A long pause, both listening carefully.

“I guess we’ve been kind of quiet.”

They keep moving farther up the hill. They scramble over a boulder in the trail, Sim first. She reaches back and Claire takes her hand. Up and over the boulder, then both women are squeezed into a tiny space together. Their eyes meet.

“Sorry,” Claire laughs.

“No. I pulled you up.”

They keep going, then take a break at the end of another switchback.

Sim offers Claire one of those peanut butter and jelly bite snacks.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“OK, but don’t forget to eat. And drink water. It’s cool weather but you’re exerting.”

Claire looks at Sim.

“I’m sorry. I’m treating you like one of my NOLS students. Not a friend,” Sim says.

“It’s OK. I appreciate it.”

“You sure? I’ll tone it down.”

“It’s fine. I promise.”

They get up and start up the switchbacks again. At about 10,500 ft, the climb ends. The trail descends into another forest on the hillside. Now more spruce and fir. The sun chases away any remaining fog, but they cool off walking downhill.

The forest continues between two more peaks. Then over a grassy marsh. They cross Stough Creek into its namesake basin. The trees here are lower, farther apart.

After a gentle climb on a low ridgeline, Claire steps up. Her leg shakes.

“You still good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Just a little tired. Foot hurts.”

“Not much further. Let me take a look when we put down our packs, OK?”

They arrive at Big Stough Lake, one of a chain of lakes in this horseshoe valley between peaks 500 vertical feet higher.

Claire stops and looks around, takes out her phone, and snaps a few photos.

“Let’s get one together,” Sim says.

“Sure!”

Sim walks over and pulls Claire in next to her. She extends her arm and takes the photo, both women smiling.

“I’m sorry,” Claire says. “Should have warned you I’m sweaty.”

“All good. Sweaty hike photos are the best.”

Claire turns and meets her eyes for a moment. Deep brown. Sim touches the back of her hand. Claire takes the hand and turns toward the lake.

“So incredible,” she says, barely above a whisper.

July 19, 2025 — Stough Creek Basin, Wind River Range

“Can you take your boot off for me?” Sim asks.

“Of course.”

They’re on a flat granite rock near the edge of the lake. Sim squats in front of Claire.

“I’m going to roll your sock off, OK?”

“Go ahead.”

“And... THAT is a nasty blister, Claire.”

“Oh. I didn’t think it was that bad. We don’t complain on the ranch.”

“I’ll get you patched up, but you need to stay off of it for now. I’ll get camp set up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Claire. I have to insist. I need you to stay off your feet.”

“But...”

“Woman, relax. I’ve got this.” She widens her eyes, then returns to a smile.

They move back away from the lake. Sim carries Claire’s pack. She sets both packs down and takes out the tent.

Claire looks up at the granitic walls, stained black, orange and gold with lichen. They look completely smooth from here.

They’re on a flat granite table overlooking the lake. Sim gathers small rocks. She throws a cylinder-shaped bag to Claire.

“Help me inflate the pads?”

Claire pulls each out of the bag and opens the valve.

“While I’m thinking about it, grab my bottle of DEET out of my pack. The mosquitoes will be a motherfucker after dusk.”

Claire chuckles, and searches for the bottle.

A sudden chirp.

“Oh—a pika! Did you hear which direction?” Sim asks.

Claire shakes her head. They listen. No repeat. Sim returns to the task.

She sets up the tent, slipping every pole into its pockets—efficient, deliberate. She extends the guy lines and stacks rocks in canvas pockets she brought to anchor them on top of the flat granite.

“It’s gonna get windier too,” she says.

“But the sunset is nice?”

Sim stops her work and looks up.

“Just wait.”

“What can I do now?” Claire asks.

“Yeah. Can you separate all the food and smellables? We need to keep careful track. There’s been a resident grizzly reported up here the past couple of summers.”

Claire hops over to the pack and starts pulling out food and toiletries.

“You going to hang this?”

“Trees are too low. I’ve got a canister at the bottom of my pack.”

“You thought of everything.”

“Have to. Big critters. Need to be respectful, and careful.”

“Oh, I’ve had my share of run-ins.”

“I can believe it. Ever a moose?”

“Once, on horseback.”

“Then you know. If a moose charges us, we’re going to run and pray.”

They both laugh.

“With my foot I’m guessing you’ll get away. Let the moose get me.”

“Well, that’s not allowed. I’m a professional, ma’am. Might lose my license. No clients trampled by mooses. Meese?”

Claire takes the hat off her head. She looks up into the sun, eyes closed. Sim stops and turns toward her.

“You are so pretty.”

Claire turns to her, eyes still narrow, lips slightly pursed.

“Stop it.”

“No, you are. I hope people tell you that all the time.”

“Well, thanks.” She exhales, turns back toward the sun. “You’re gorgeous. Out on that trail, in your element? I’m so impressed by you.”

“I am a professional, after all.”

Both women laugh again.

“You hungry?” Sim asks.

“Starving.”

“Let’s move you over here.” Sim points. “I’m going to make that rock the kitchen area. I’ll walk down to the lake for water first.”

Claire starts to gather dehydrated meals and other equipment back into the backpack. She stops and watches Sim walk down to the water’s edge.

A cool breeze starts up. Claire reaches back into her pack for the puffy jacket.

[1] Terrain overview and a 3D trail view for the Stough Creek Basin approach are on AllTrails https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/wyoming/stough-creek-basin-trail.

[2] Sim’s Lander visit, the Noble / NOLS orbit, and the guide-to-guide lending that makes a spare down jacket plausible are in Wide open https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/wide-open?r=6ih655. Sim’s “NOLS students” voice on the trail grows out of the same instructor world sketched there.

[3] Claire’s Cowboys hat and the Colter ranch default under Bobby appear in Perfect on Paper https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/perfect-on-paper?r=6ih655; her “we don’t complain on the ranch” line is the same stoicism.

[4] Sim steered them toward this Stough Creek overnight in Wide open https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/wide-open?r=6ih655. Close and careful https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/close-and-careful?r=6ih655 covers the Lander Bar night and walk back to the Noble that leads straight into this morning—hence the bear callout.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her.

July 18, 2025 — Lander Bar, evening

The women walk through the back door, past the grill and into the original 1907 bar[1].

It features a massive taxidermied brown trout. A fallen elk antler. A collection of old bottles and beer mugs.

There’s a jukebox in the corner. Patrons have to talk loud to hear one another.

There are a few early-20s NOLS students in from out of state drinking beers in one corner. A couple of old hands at center bar.

Rocco is telling Lilly and Reid a story, basically at a yell. “So I’m run out as fuck. 300 feet above the deck.”

Sim, Casey, and Autumn greet their friend.

“It’s a mixed route and I’m thinking I’ve got an easy clip above the feature so I just grab a draw. Then I realize some asshole has chopped the bolt, and there’s not a good placement around!”

“What happened?” Lilly asks.

“I fucking whipped. Like a 50-foot fall. I was wrecked after that. Hit the wall with my ankle. Had to rap down and limp home. Fucking Ten Sleep purists.”

Claire touches Sim’s hand gently. Sim looks back.

The crew has another round of beers and whiskeys. The room gets louder. Boots on wooden floorboards.

By the end of the 20th century, this place was a ground-down, dusty, cowboy dive. Local entrepreneurs bought the block and slowly built up the brewery, restaurant, grill, and Lander Bar into a home base for dirtbag climbers and NOLS staff between expeditions.

Casey starts to feed the jukebox, taking requests from the crowd.

Fiddle starts without background, then distorted electric guitar strums. A man’s solo voice with harmonica flourish[2]. Then full harmony and boot-stomping beat. Casey moves her shoulders and wraps an arm around Autumn.

“It’s rough. These old boys have a stroke or heart attack and sometimes I’m an hour out—clear across Fremont County—before I can get on scene. And that’s in summer. Winter is so much worse. Call time is longer. And half of these guys stay shut in and drink all day and night. Nothing I can do for them.”

Lilly wraps an arm around him. He’s so much taller. “He’s lost patients this week. He tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but I know it does,” she tells her friends.

He squeezes her arm.

Another song. Fingerpicking electric guitar over light percussion. Fiddle weeps. Touches of slide guitar over a deep solo cowboy voice[3].

Casey lip-syncs the hook at Autumn. Autumn rolls her eyes. Lilly giggles.

“Sim, you want to go climb tomorrow?” Rocco asks.

“I’m taking Claire up to Stough Creek Basin tomorrow. We’re going to chill out up there for the night.”

“Nice. Have you been up there?” Rocco asks.

“No,” Claire says.

“You’re in for a treat. Camping with Sim is the best. And that spot is awesome.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ve lived on a ranch for decades but I’ve never been backpacking. Rarely sleep out on the ground.”

“It’ll be cozy. Chilly up there though,” Sim says. “I hope you brought your long underwear.”

Claire smiles. She shifts toward the bartender and holds up three fingers.

Another song. Fingerpicked electric guitar until a wailing chord strike. A woman’s weathered voice sings solo[4].

Autumn turns and backs into Casey, letting her head rest on Casey’s shoulder and neck, hips moving to the music. Casey kisses her neck.

They pull away from the crowd and dance as the first hook escalates with organ and percussion. Autumn’s arms rise into the air as she twirls slowly.

Rocco is down the bar with a couple of other long-haired guys. One of them has his right arm in a cast.

“What are you doing this fall?” Sim asks Lilly.

“I’m going to travel and do the WFR trainings on site. West Coast mostly. I’ll do that all winter.”

“Nice. That sounds like a good gig.”

“Yeah. I’ll miss the skiing here. I’ve got a couple of weeks off early next year. Maybe I can get to Utah.”

“Reid staying here?”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll stay together this time and do the distance thing. His daughter is here. Ex is a handful.”

“Dude, he’s so nice. And really hot.”

“Yeah, I think he’s a cutie. I don’t know how it will work out, but I hope it will.”

“So what’s the story with you and her?” She nods her head toward Claire, who is drinking and laughing with Reid.

“We’re just friends... it’s complicated.”

“I hear you. Casey and Autumn seem to like her.”

Sim looks over at the three women and Reid. They’re all laughing at a story Autumn is telling. Casey meets her eyes.

“I know.” Sim makes a wide-eyed face, pulls her mouth tight.

“Another drink?”

“Of course.”

“Beer or whiskey?”

“Beer. Then water. Claire and I need to get moving tomorrow morning.”

Another song. Synth, then slide guitar. Nashville tight. A young woman’s voice[5].

“Who put this one on?” Sim asks.

“I did,” Claire says a little louder than normal. She takes a couple of steps closer. “I hope you know how to dance because we’re going to dance.”

Claire takes her hand. The pair move to the periphery of the crowd on the open floorboards. They start to dance together, close and careful. Hand on shoulder, around waist. Claire leads.

An old rancher in suspenders at a nearby table puts his hand on his wife’s arm.

The dance lasts the entire song. Claire embraces Sim afterward. “Thank you,” she whispers. They return to the rest of the group.

An hour later, they’re walking back to the Noble in the cool evening air. Hand in hand.

[1] The Lander Bar occupies the historic Coalter House, built in 1907. Originally a saloon, it later served as a hotel, brothel, and boarding house before returning to full-time service as a bar and grill, with an upstairs cocktail lounge and event space.

[2] Turnpike Troubadours, Long Hot Summers Day.

[3] Chancey Williams, Wyoming Wind.

[4] Lucinda Williams, Essence.

[5] Lee Ann Womack, I Hope You Dance.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her.

Approaching Lander, the mountains reappear. The Wind River Range. Deep greens at lower elevation gently rise to wide gray rock expanse with snow along ridgelines and cirques. Summits pinched to point or rounded off by ancient heat, ice and motion.

Claire waits on the deck near Lander Bar. Between the historical bar and modern brewery, massive cottonwoods grow out of the deck built around them. The deck boards are silver and worn from a dozen or more baking summers and bitter winters.

Sim crosses Main Street from the Lander Yoga Collective, housed in an old Purina Mill with the original painted checkerboard design still there.

"Hey you," Sim says. They embrace.

"It's so good to see you again," Claire says.

"I'm at the Noble just a block away. Grab your suitcase. Your car is fine here."

Sim leads the way. Claire watches her walk. Shoulders perfectly stacked above hips, stride smooth and confident. Each step moves through her body with practiced rhythm. Heat clings to Claire's skin, beyond the late afternoon sun.

Claire looks up at the historic building. Faded orange brick. Framed THE NOBLE in original 1918 style lettering a few windows away from the NOLS logo. Corbelled cornice below the roofline.

The door creaks as the women walk into the lobby. The dark wood inside contrasts the high desert sun outside. A second floor mezzanine railing is lined with taxidermied heads. Pronghorn, elk, mule deer, moose. Historic photos line the walls. Young people in the mountains, smiling back across decades.

A mustached guide in a five-panel hat passes them. "What's up, Sim?" he says, heading out into the sun.

"Oh my god this is gorgeous," Claire says quietly. The sun is shining in through the stained glass skylight. Pooled green, yellow and blue shapes on the floor from the Arts and Crafts floral pattern.

"They had to take the original skylight down in the 1980s," Sim says. "This one is a replica made by an artist in Casper twenty years ago."

Claire and Sim enter the room. Basic, spare. Like a warm, familiar dorm room. Only more transitory. No posters. Just gravel and trail dust missed by the broom in the old floorboards[2].

Sim points at the second twin bed. "That's you. My roommate is camping with her boyfriend tonight." Long pause. "Bathroom is down the hall. Sorry it isn't The Wort[3]."

"Not at all. It's perfect."

Sim peels her top off. She walks to the laundry bag and looks for another.

Claire turns her head awkwardly toward the wall. "So tell me about your students this summer[4]."

Sim smiles wryly. "You can look, girl. I don't mind."

"It's okay," Claire says, keeping her face to the wall.

"I'll walk down the hall to give you some space."

"No. That's not necessary."

She moves her gaze from the wall to Sim's eyes. She holds eye contact for a long beat, saying nothing. Careful not to look down.

Sim stops dressing. The women look at each other. In silence, except for Claire taking a few loud breaths.

Sim grins, turns to sniff her armpit, a week's worth of stubble visible. "Good enough for Lander Bar," she says. She stretches the new top on. Finishes changing.

"You ready to go?" Sim asks.

"Yeah."

She touches Claire's forearm gently as she walks by her[3]. Claire exhales.

Sim turns and walks out of the room. Claire follows.

July 18, 2025 — Downtown Lander, WY

The women sit at the middle of one of the long wooden tables on the deck between the brewery and historic bar. A pitcher of local Pilsner sits on the table. They're sharing a wood oven pizza. Claire plates a slice for Sim and puts it in front of her.

Little kids run around. Nervous young parents tell them to stop jumping off the stairs and to watch out for the tree.

The sun is still high. Music carries faintly from the bar to the deck. Beer flows, conversations get louder.

"So Claire, I heard you were a teacher?" Autumn says[5].

Claire tucks a paper napkin into her fitted chambray western shirt with embroidered roses at the yoke and pearl snaps.

"I was. A long time ago. Elementary. I got pregnant with our first child and became a mom, instead."

"I teach grade 7."

"Oh wow. What's that like?"

"They're such a mess. The girls are figuring out complicated social lives and the boys are just trying to remember to turn in their homework[6]."

"That sounds right."

"You teach here in town?"

"Yeah. I lived on the reservation before I met Casey, but we decided to settle here, and moved to Kinnear when we got our place."

"Can't even afford Lander on a guide and teacher's salaries," Casey adds. She pours another beer in her glass. Her gray, cotton Dead and Company tank is worn from a thousand washes. The print is cracked across at the neck of the dancing skeletons with rose garlands.

"I wish I could go back," Claire says, "I do miss teaching."

"You will someday," Sim adds. She places a hand on Claire's forearm. Just for a moment, then goes back to her slice.

Claire smiles at her. Autumn turns toward a nearby table. She lifts her shawl over her bare shoulders left open to the cooling air by her white sundress. The shawl has solid bands of deep red, burnt orange and cream. She pulls her long, dark French braid out from under it.

"Where are you from originally?" Casey asks.

"Cody."

"Oh nice. I've guided in the Absarokas. Stayed in Cody as a home base one summer season."

"Oh wow. You know, growing up there, you never get to know the mountains as well as you'd like. Busy trying to make a life in town."

"What did your parents do?"

Autumn places her hand on the back of Casey's hand.

"I'm sorry if I ask too many personal questions." She holds up the pint glass and tilts it slightly for effect. Rolls her eyes a half turn. "Autumn tries to make me behave but it's hard."

"No, you're absolutely fine. My dad owned a farm equipment dealership. Johnson Implement and Truck. Out on the state highway."

"Oh my god I passed that place on my way back into town!"

Claire takes a bite of her slice.

"I love Wyoming farmers. No bullshit," Casey continues.

Claire takes a sip of beer. "You'd love my husband, then[7]. He's either silent or fighting lately."

"Cattle?"

"About 300 head[7]."

"Man that sounds like a lot of work."

"Don't I know it." Claire and Casey chuckle.

The table is silent for a moment, conversation around them. A pre-sunset breeze rattles through the cottonwoods.

"Excuse me I need to go say hi to someone," Autumn says. She places her hand on Casey's shoulder, meets her eyes, then walks off.

"Tell me about the tattoo on your hand," Claire says.

Casey twists the pint glass to look at the wavy line—it stops and then restarts after a gap of clean skin.

"It's the Popo Agie. Runs through town and then into Sinks Canyon. I love how it goes underground and then comes back out. Even colder, cleaner. It's a metaphor anyone can identify with."

Another long silence.

Autumn is at another table now, talking to a couple of parents with kids. Young teenagers.

"I'm taking Claire up to Stough Creek Basin tomorrow. We'll spend the night by the lake." Sim says.

Casey rolls her eyes. "Claire, that is a stout hike. You're trusting this maniac?"

Sim screws up her face dramatically. "I'm a professional, girl!"

"I'm in good hands, I'm sure," Claire says.

Casey turns to Sim and raises an eyebrow. Sim kicks her foot under the table. "Ouch!" She yelps. Claire's expression is blank.

Sim reaches behind her head and tightens her bandanna. It's the Shoshone Bannock pattern Autumn gifted her.

"KAY-SEEEH!" They hear a male voice from the street. He walks through the archway onto the deck. "How's it going, girl?"

"Oh shit!" Casey's face lights up. "Rocco. I thought you'd be dead by now you fucking idiot."

"I love you too, baby," Rocco says. He's maybe 5'9", feral blonde chin-length hair, unshaven for at least six weeks. He's wearing a patched flannel shirt and tech shorts. Bedrock sandals.

Rocco waves at another table on his way to Casey. They embrace. "Oh shit, Sim? It's been a MINUTE." He turns toward her, fist out for a bump. Sim hugs him instead. "I missed you, Sim."

"You too, Rocco," Sim says. She turns. "Rocco, this is my friend Claire."

"Great to meet you," Claire says, taking the fist bump Rocco offers.

"I love that shirt," Rocco says to Claire.

"Aw, thank you." Claire smiles.

"Hey I'm meeting Lilly and her boyfriend at the bar. You all should join. Let's have a few!"

Casey turns to Sim. Sim looks at Claire.

"Hell yeah. We'll be in a little later, OK?" Sim says.

Rocco points to a slice sitting on Casey's plate. "You going to eat that?"

"Take it, stupid. If you hit the lotto you'd still be dirtbagging."

Rocco smiles. "How do you know I haven't hit the lotto?"

[1] The Wyoming Craton is Archean–Proterozoic basement rock, roughly 2.5 billion years old, some of the oldest and most stable continental crust in North America. Pronghorn have roamed the basin for about 20 million years.

[2] The Noble Hotel has housed NOLS students and instructors since 1973. The building opened in 1918 as a luxury hotel for Yellowstone-bound tourists; the dorm-style rooms have seen decades of young people nervous to enter the backcountry and alive once they've returned.

[3] Claire and Sim first kissed at the Wort in Jackson. When the song ends. They became friends in Just Friends.

[4] Sim's NOLS work and Lander plans in What we're holding onto.

[5] Casey and Autumn's relationship in Reckless optimist.

[6] Parents: if you know, you know.

[7] Bobby Colter and the family ranch he runs with Claire (about 300 head of cattle) first appear in Perfect on Paper.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her.

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The three women relax in the bed of Casey's old Chevy[1]. Autumn brought blankets. They zip up their jackets as the last of the summer sun dips below the Winds.

They're stuffed on beef ribs and sides shared by a neighbor a few trucks over. Little kids run by sending up clouds of dust.

"God I missed this place," Sim says.

"It missed you," says Autumn.

Country music plays on a PA someone set up.

"Beer?" Casey asks.

"Hell yeah," Sim says.

Casey opens the cooler and hands out Coors.

She shouts at the next truck over to a middle-aged man. "Richard! Beer?" She holds up a can, then tosses it to him. "Y'all need more? I brought too many." She smiles. "Love that guy."

She sits back down. Autumn pulls her in close.

"I can't imagine ever leaving this place," Sim says.

"Don't go back to Jackson. Stay."

"No, I mean Wyoming."

"Definitely don't do that. Somebody pretty trying to get you to move to Colorado, or California?" Casey makes a stinky face.

"No. Family wants me back in Philly."

"Oh wow. Are you moving?"

"I'm not sure. I don't want to. But I don't have a good reason to stay I guess. Other than you guys."

Autumn smiles, pressing her cheek into Casey's shoulder. "Family is important. But you need to follow your heart, Sim."

"Yeah, I'm not sure what my heart is telling me. It's confused."

"Uh-oh. Do you have a secret girlfriend?" Casey asks.

The wind picks up. Sim presses into her friends. "Shut up," she says quietly, grinning.

"Oh fuck, you DO have a secret girlfriend!"

"It's complicated."

"Oh really. Imagine that."

Sim frowns at her.

"I'm sorry, baby. I kid you because I love you," Casey says. Autumn rubs Sim's arm.

"Not sure I'd miss the wind if I moved back."

"Yes you would. The way it comes down off the mountains at sunset?"

"I guess you're right."

A song comes on the PA. The singer in harmony with himself, no music [2].

"Wooooo!" shouts Casey.

Someone turns the PA up.

The little kids and teens continue to mill about.

Casey and Sim sing. Some younger folks nearby join along, some lifting beers. Autumn shakes her head.

Richard stomps his boot and smiles at Casey.

The next song continues. The same artist. Acoustic guitar picking, then fiddle intro, another vocal, faint slide guitar [3].

The song ends. The women lean back and press together for warmth. The fireworks begin. The first volley is red, white and blue.

"Thanks for this," Sim says. Autumn squeezes her hand, then turns to kiss Casey.

More fireworks light up their faces.

The kiss lasts until after the volley.

"Jesus, get a room you two," Sim snickers.

***

*July 4, 2025 — Autumn & Casey's home, Kinnear*

It's later that night. Gusts have picked up out on the wooden deck. Autumn has gone to bed.

First the smell of sagebrush, then weed smoke. Casey is cupping her hands around the end of the joint to block the wind. She takes a drag and pulls the smoke in, holding. She passes to Sim.

"So why didn't we work out[1]?" Sim asks as she takes the joint.

Casey coughs violently, then laughs. "Shit, girl."

Sim looks back at her. She's got her coat zipped up high. Breath is visible in the night air before she takes a drag.

The Milky Way shines down. Not much light pollution out in Kinnear.

"I mean, you're just kind of a reckless optimist, Sim."

Sim exhales. "What do you mean?"

"You're easygoing. Ethical. You seem to want people to find their way to you without any push."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing early in a relationship. But then things just kind of drift along. I loved you. But we never really named it. And you never seemed jealous."

"I didn't like your cheating, if that's what you mean."

"I know. I just... I never felt sure you really loved me. That's what I told myself when I cheated."

"Because I never threw a fit?"

"You never made it clear what you wanted me in that way."

Sim looks off at the mountains.

"With Autumn it was different. She just...said it. She just puts it out there."

They both jerk toward a coyote yelp. Casey takes another drag. They're quiet. The wind whistles lightly.

"You did hurt me. But I've never felt safe saying that." She wipes her eye with the back of her sleeve.

Casey meets her eyes. "Don't listen to me. I'm fucked up."

"No," Sim says, breathing in. "Thank you for being honest with me. It's been a real struggle since we broke up. But I don't want to make people uncomfortable."

Casey takes her hand and squeezes it gently.

"You and Autumn are so nice to me. And that just makes it so much harder. I can't even be mad at her for having you."

"I'm sorry I don't call enough."

"No. You've got this wonderful life here, and I've got my life there. I just, some of my friends there are moving away. I'm worried I'll be alone."

Casey grinds the roach into the pressure-treated deck board with her boot heel. She puts her hands on Sim's shoulders and meets her gaze. "Listen. You're the best friend anyone could ask for. And an incredible partner. I fucked up."

"Thanks."

"But with the new girl[4], if you think you love her, you have to tell her what you want from her, babe."

***

*July 5, 2025 — Autumn & Casey's house, Kinnear*

Sim wakes up on the couch. It's cool in the house. They turned off the gas fireplace before going to bed. She wiggles out from under the wool blankets and puts her pants back on.

In the kitchen, she finds the coffee filters and starts making a pot. The sun has been up for a couple of hours, the rays through the patio door illuminate dust in the air.

> Sim: Good morning. Hope you had a fun 4th?

Sim stares at the wall.

The old plastic coffee maker sputters the last of the coffee into the pot. Sim hears a gentle moan from the back bedroom. Her cheeks pull back, mouth tight.

> Claire: So gorgeous. I went outside to have my first sip of coffee this morning.

Sim pours a cup, sets it on the counter. More gentle noises from the back bedroom. She grabs her jacket off the floor and zips it up, walks out onto the patio.

> Sim: What have you got going today?

> Claire: Not much. Boys are doing chores. Hay mostly[5]. I've got a couple of things in town. Call you later this afternoon?

> Sim: I'd love that.

She sips her coffee. Then places it on the rail. The steam from the cup rises and meets the steam from her breath in the morning sun.

She types on her phone. Then erases. Sets the phone on the rail. Looks over at the Winds.

The Winds are ice blue with white streaks of snow. Thin clouds hang just above them, reflecting the morning sun. Yellows, to oranges, reds and grays. The sky above is powder blue. Wide open.

The breeze picks up and rattles the sagebrush nearby. Then stops. It gets so quiet here.

> Claire: Miss you[6]. Hope you are enjoying time with friends.

She takes in a deep, cold breath. A Golden Eagle's screechy "kee kee kee" breaks the quiet.

> Sim: You have a minute now to chat?

It's silent again. Then she hears a pickup on the main highway slowly shushing past. Then her phone rings. Her face brightens.

"Hey Sim, how are you doing? Everything OK?"

"Will you come visit me here in Lander? I'll have my own spot in two weeks. I know you're busy there on the ranch. But I really miss you."

"I... I'd love that. Let me get back to you on which weekend. I should be able to make it happen in the next few weeks."

[1] Sim explained her friendship with Casey, her ex-girlfriend, in Just friends. Sim is staying with Casey and Autumn in Lander, as mentioned in What we're holding onto and August first.

[2] Ian Munsick, "Prairie Lament I."

[3] Ian Munsick, "Too Many Trees."

[4] Sim and Claire first kissed in When the song ends and became friends in Just friends.

[5] Claire's family and ranch—Bobby, Garrett, hay, chores—are introduced in Perfect on paper .

[6] Claire and Sim's deepening connection continues from When the song ends and Just Friends; Claire confessed the new friend to Bobby in August first.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her.

"I'm not?"

"Mm-um."

"What am I going to do, then?"

"You're going to stay here. In bed. With me."

"Oh. I am, huh?"

"What are you going to do if I try to get up?"

"I'll wrap you up."

"I don't even know what that means."

Sim smiles at her, jerks arms and legs around her again. Claire laughs loudly, shaking.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm wrapping you up." She kisses Claire on the cheek. Then on the neck.

"That's nice," she sighs. "I like being wrapped up."

Claire twists her face toward Sim. Their lips meet. Gently at first. Then harder, deeper.

Sim releases her, then climbs on top. She presses the tip of her nose against Claire's, foreheads meeting. Eyes close, kisses deepen. Claire reaches her arm around Sim's back and grabs her shoulder, pulling her closer.

They are squeezed tightly, shifting. Sheets get tangled, mouths come together. Breath, teeth, lips. Sim's hand moves up Claire's inner thigh. Higher, closer.

Claire gasps awake. Her right hand tugging the sheets, legs crooked. Ragged breathing. She looks over at Bobby, still sleeping. She can hear him snoring gently.

She picks up her phone. A late-night text from Sim:

> In Lander now. Few days with my ex and her wife.[2] Miss you. Call me when you can.

***

July 1, 2025 — Colter Ranch, kitchen

Bacon and eggs are on the table. Bobby and Garrett sit at the table eating. Claire hovers, sipping coffee from a ceramic mug and typing on her phone.

> Claire: How's it going with your ex?

"I'm seeing more cheatgrass in the north pasture," Bobby says.

"I'm spraying up there today," Garrett says.

"Tractor fueled?"

> Sim: It's good here. Chill. No drama so far.

"Yes sir. Terry topped it off last night."

"Good. You figure out that GPS error?"

"Yes sir. Easy stuff."

> Claire: Glad you're able to spend time with friends.

"Hard enough for your old man."

"YouTube."

"Okay. Look at you." Bobby beams at his son.

Garrett's lip curls slightly. He's still hunched over his breakfast.

"Honey, is there more coffee?" Bobby says.

> Sim: Lesbian couch surfing network. More ex girlfriends, more places to crash.

Claire stares at the text. Sips her coffee. Starts to tap. Pauses.

"Claire?"

"Oh, sorry." She picks the dented carafe up off the counter and carries it to the table, sets it down, still looking at her phone.

"We've got to plan second cutting in the other fields. Looks like we have a decent window coming up. You want to discuss that with Terry too?"

Garrett sits up. "Yeah. I'd love that. I remember the order from last summer. South field thinner?"

> Sim: I'm sorry. Was that too much?

"I need to work on the brand inspection paperwork. Want to learn that too?"

"Yes sir."

"It's boring."

"I know. But I want to know how this place runs."

Bobby places a hand on his son's shoulder. "Go finish getting ready. I'll meet you and Terry at the barn."

> Claire: Not at all. I was distracted by my boys. But I'm curious how that all works.

> Sim: You can ask me anything. 😏

> Claire: Can I call you later?

Claire stares at the screen. Garrett gets up from the table and heads to his bedroom.

> Sim: I'd love that.

"Claire?"

She startles. Bobby is standing next to her. "You OK this morning, baby?"

"Yeah. All good."

"You're on your phone a lot these days."

"You think?"

"Oh yeah. Not really my business, just saying. Anything you want to tell me?"

"I, uh. I made a new friend when I was in Jackson at the art show[3]. She's younger, funny."

"That's great, baby. Somebody outside of Casper, too. I'm kind of jealous." The sides of his mouth curl slightly.

Claire sets the phone down on the counter. She smiles at Bobby. "Thanks hon. That means a lot to me."

Bobby leans in for a kiss on the lips. Claire gives it to him. He rests his hand on her hip. Her hand floats in the air, directionless.

***

July 3, 2025 — Colter Ranch, Bobby's office

Bobby sits at the old desk. He looks at his watch and pulls off his reading glasses, tossing them onto the desk. He looks at the file cabinet for a moment, then settles back in his chair.

The phone number is written on a sticky note next to his desk. He dials his cell phone and puts it on speaker, laying it on the desk.

"That you, Bobby?" Tom asks.

"Yeah. Who else is here?"

"I'm on, Bobby," Kate says. His face relaxes.

"Let's give Will another few minutes. I know he had a thing until the bottom of the hour."

"Sure," says Kate, flatly.

"Bobby, how's hay lookin'? Dry right now?"

"Yeah Tom, we're actually looking pretty good. Garrett is driving the tractor this summer. He and Terry are doing most of the management."

"Aww. Good for you Bobby," Kate interjects. "That must be wonderful."

"It is. I'm so proud of him."

Will joins. "Everyone here?"

"We were here at 11, Will," Kate says.

"Great. Tom, kick us off."

"OK. So I've been talking deal terms with Kate since the presentation[4]. She drives hard, but Chase and Merry are still on board. They think this holding is their best option for the development anchor."

"Tell them where we are Tom," Kate says.

"I'm getting to it, damn. Cash value is $70-90 mil. Their cash offer is on the low side of that. Dad set up the trust in a way that value is stepped up so we don't get murdered by the federal taxes. We could all walk away with around $17 mil each."

Bobby whistles. "Jesus."

"I told you, Bob. This is life-changing money we're talking about. Generational wealth."

"Will and I want equity in the project. And Kate has negotiated terms where she feels comfortable taking equity as well."

"That leaves you, little brother," Will says.

"I'm no expert on this. Kate?"

"Yeah Bobby, Tom and I talked about this."

"We want to make this as easy as possible for you Bobby. Some cash out, some equity to keep us aligned."

"OK," Bobby says into speakerphone, scratching his beard.

"We're going to pull out $10Mil upfront to help you get the kids through school[5], settle debts, figure out what you want to. Now the ranch manager offer will still be open. Just so you're aware, the rest of us get more points on the backend, but you're the only one getting cash upfront. And if this deal goes the way we think it will, that $10Mil is just the start. You're going to be a very rich man."

"Tom, that's really generous."

"We all think it's fair Bobby. You've taken such good care of this place."

Bobby winces. His voice cracks. "Thank you. That means so much."

"OK. Sounds like you are on board, Bob?"

"I'm getting there. Just need more time to decide."

"Well that's the thing. We need a commitment soon. Chase and Merry need site control. This is like a pre-commitment that we're not making a deal with anyone else, and they need access to the property."

"What for?"

"They've got to do diligence, land on a final value, predevelopment studies. They give us a letter of intent. This step allows them to start spending the predevelopment money they've raised from their other investors."

"Does that mean we have to make the deal?"

"For all intents and purposes, yes. It would be bad faith to back out without a good reason."

"This is a one way gate, Bobby[6]," Will adds.

"That's not entirely true," Kate adds. "We should just cap exposure in the agreement so we have flexibility."

"We're trying to build a partnership here, Kate."

"I'm well aware of what I'm trying to do here, William."

"I don't know guys. Things are going well. I was hoping to decide end of summer once the hay is in."

"Bobby, that's going to be too late. If Chase and Merry don't get site control in the next month, their timeline for spending the money they've raised gets messed up. The deal with us falls apart."

"Oh." Bobby covers his mouth and stares at the wall. Taps his finger on the desktop.

"They've had conversations with nearly all the other ranchers in the valley. If this falls apart, the development becomes Wilson Preserve or Thompkins Preserve."

"I don't know. I just can't commit today."

"That's OK Bobby," Kate interjects.

"Bob, one more thing. Chase and Merry are going to give us a payment for the site control. It's money up front to show they are serious about a deal. Kind of an advance on the final sale price. Their offer is $750K. We want you to take all of it."

"That's right," Will says. "You've got Savannah in school now, and Garrett headed there soon."

"I appreciate it. I really do. But I need a few weeks. It's a big decision. You're talking about my life changing completely. Nothing really changes for the rest of you, just more money."

"That's fair Bobby," Kate says.

"How about this?" Tom says. "I'm going to tell Chase and Merry we're close, but need a little more time for sign off. I'll tell them to be ready to write a check on August first for site control. We'll have signatures then. I'll have them circulate the draft LOI and other paperwork, that gives us plenty of time for legal review."

"Bobby, don't worry about the paperwork, I'll have our outside counsel review for you too," Will says.

"He'll use mine," Kate says.

"Kate's. No offense Will. She and I have been talking a lot about this."

"None taken."

"Great. Sounds like a plan. Y'all got plans for the 4th?" Tom asks.

[1] Claire and Sim first kissed in When the song ends and became friends in Just friends.

[2] Sim mentioned staying with her ex Casey in Lander in What we're holding onto.

[3] Claire met Sim in Jackson in When the song ends.

[4] Chase and Merry presented the Colter Reserve deal and ranch manager offer in Price of belonging. The siblings gathered at the ranch in Who stays, who goes.

[5] Bobby and Claire's family and ranch are introduced in Perfect on paper.

[6] Will warned Bobby about the ranch's timeline in Cold wind, hot steel.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her.

June 17, 2025 — Casper

Claire arrives early and grabs a stationary bike in the front of the studio for the 5PM spin class. She gives the waist of her tights a tug before the room fills up. Climbs into the seat and starts slowly pedaling to warm up.

A younger woman with long blonde hair walks up to the bike next to her. Claire politely turns to acknowledge her. The woman meets her eyes and gives her a tiny nod. She’s in expensive-looking high-compression tights and top.

She pulls her hair back and ties it up. Claire looks away abruptly. Exhales through her nose quietly, eyes neutral.

“All right ladies, let’s get it started,” Billy shouts as he glides into the room and climbs into the seat of his bike up front.

The ride starts gently. Claire remains face forward, but her cadence drifts to match the woman next to her.

First ascent. Still in the saddle. A tiny bead of moisture starts to form at her hairline.

First descent. She keeps her towel on the bars. Hands on the grips. Bottle in holster.

More intense grade. Billy says “push!” The woman pops up to pedal. Claire does the same and matches her speed. Their four shoulders move in a ragged rhythm.

A recovery beat. Billy sits up in the seat and shouts encouragement. Claire and the woman both reach for water bottles. Claire breathes deeply and relaxes her shoulders.

A long, slow ascent. Nostrils flare. They both stay in the saddle. Quads firing in rhythm. Not fully synced; a quarter turn off at roughly the same cadence.

She’s mouth breathing now. Big inhales. She hears the woman riding next to her pull in a breath too.

Another recovery beat. She takes another drink of water, the woman does the same. Claire finally dabs her face and chest with her towel. The woman keeps pedaling.

Intervals. “Push! Rest,” Billy repeats in several-minute increments.

She gets a glance at her own red face in the mirror. Moving side to side with each pedal stroke.

Final long push. Women in the back groan and shout. Billy shouts “Let’s get it. Almost there!” The room stands to pedal. Quads still working. Hips dip lower for more power.

The other woman’s watch beeps. Claire notices her shaking her head. She keeps pumping.

And it’s done. A collective exhale. Groans around the room. Billy hops off his bike and applauds. “Finito,” he says, smiling.

Claire’s legs shake as she dismounts. Heart still pounding. Sweaty forehead, sternum, waistband. She takes a long drink of water.

Her shoulders relax. Eyes and mouth settle. Her gaze drifts. Then she turns around reflexively. The younger woman has already left the room.

+++

Claire takes a long time to shower. She washes and conditions her hair. She wraps it up in a towel and steps back into the locker room.

She smiles and nods at a few of the regulars as she makes her way back to her locker. She dresses. An older woman struggles to clasp her necklace. Claire stops to help her, half dressed.

Her heartbeat is normal. The warm air is still pouring through her nostrils. Slow and even.

She walks over to the long counter and blow-dries her hair. Looks at her face in the long mirror as she applies lotion. No makeup.

She sees the younger woman approach and turn on the faucet at the sink next to her. She splashes her face with cold water. Looks into the mirror, eyes widening slightly.

“Hey! Nice workout,” she says to Claire in the mirror. “You are so fit. I could barely keep up.” The woman smiles into the mirror.

“I... I don’t know about that. I’m exhausted now.”

“Nah, you’re killing it. See you around.”

“Sure,” Claire half mumbles.

The younger woman turns around and heads to the lockers. Claire gathers her things and stuffs them into her duffel. She walks out the door.

+++

Claire sits in the leather seat of her white SUV. The fob sits in the dash. It’s still warm outside. She hasn’t started the vehicle.

She looks at her eyes in the rearview mirror. Cars come and go.

She picks up her phone and opens the messaging app.

She closes it. Puts it down. She runs her hands through her hair and straightens her part.

She groans. Starts the vehicle. Her phone connects with the car audio. She opens it, finds a number, and dials. As the phone rings over the car audio, she pulls out of her parking spot and onto the main road.

“Hey Claire,” Meg[1] answers. “How are you, honey?”

“You have a minute?”

“Yeah, girl, you doing OK? Bobby[2] OK?” A long pause. “Claire?”

“No. It’s not Bobby. It’s me, Meg. I need to tell you about something.”

“Of course. What’s going on?”

[1] Meg (Megan Rawlins) is Claire’s lifelong friend from Cody; they had a late-night FaceTime about Bobby and the ranch in The weight of home.

[2] Bobby Colter is Claire’s husband; his shoulder injury and ranch stress are introduced in Perfect on paper.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar is referenced fictitiously and is not associated with or responsible for any depiction in this work.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: a guide to Wild As Her.

June 15, 2025 — Gas station outside Dubois, Wyoming

Sim pulls her Tacoma past the illuminated Green Dinosaur Gas sign. She stops at the pump and gets out.

The convenience store is closed. Log cabin style. Metal roof, shake-roofed front porch, fake log posts. There are booths for outdoor dining.

It’s dark and quiet now. Just sagebrush and rolling hills. A few businesses further down the highway.

She starts the pump and pulls her jacket out from the cab. She puts it on and zips it up.

A beat up Nissan pulls into the lot and stops at the other pump. It’s loud. Raspy engine. Sim stiffens.

The driver gets out and starts pumping. White guy, bald head, unshaven. Dirty hoodie and overalls.

Sim checks the pump. Breathing slowly. He looks her way. She meets his eyes and smiles. He scowls at her. Looks back at his pump.

Still pumping.

“Hey,” he says.

She stops pumping. The handle clatters as she puts it back in the pump.

“Hey there,” he says again.

She cracks the door of the truck. “Yeah?” she says back politely but firmly over the roof of the cab, foot on the doorframe.

“You got a lighter?” He makes a lighter flick motion with his hand and thumb. She notices faded numbers tattooed on his knuckles. Her neck stiffens.

“No. Sorry,” she says, climbing back into the cab. She starts the vehicle and pulls back onto the highway. She’s breathing steadily.

She pulls through Dubois, moving at regular speed. Occasionally looking into the rearview for headlights behind her.

Another twenty miles or so. She starts gasping for air. Small inhales, then a long, shaky exhale. She pounds three times on the steering wheel, open handed. Wipes her damp eyes with the back of her hand.

+++

June 20, 2025 — Casper, downtown

Claire and Lisa[1] are sitting at a table in the coffee shop downtown. Lisa has her laptop open; various printed materials are spread over the table. Lisa is sipping an iced matcha through a straw.

“OK. We have the photographer locked and deposit paid for both events.”

“Great.”

“Step and repeat will be at the VIP event. Selfie backdrop and props for the community event.”

“Sounds good. Deposits are paid for music and catering. Just a few final details on place settings. You want to go through that now, or via email? I want you to make the decision on that.”

“Email’s fine then,” Lisa says. She takes a sip of her bright green drink.

“OK. Review the lists?” Claire asks.

“Let’s do it. Our 52 VIP save the dates were sent. We’ve got soft confirmations on 28, we think we’ll have more once the actual invites go out.”

“Great. Sponsors?”

“Fully subscribed. Even after adding additional slots in the gold and silver tiers. We’re looking good.”

“Please thank Rand[2] for taking the Platinum sponsorship. He really didn’t need to do that.”

“Oh yes he did.” Lisa smiles.

“Well then. Thank you Lisa.”

“How are we looking for the lawn event?”

“We’re expecting 300-400 right now, we’ll know a little better next week.”

“Fantastic.”

“Great progress. Anything else?”

“Did you hear about Sally[3]?” Lisa asks.

“No. What’s up?”

“Nan told me that she’s moving to Colorado. She and Charlie want to be closer to their grandkids.”

“Oh good for her.”

“That means an opening for Chair. Are you going to go for it?”

“I don’t know, Lisa. I’ve done it before, but I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire right now.”

“Somebody will take it.”

“Oh for sure.”

“Oh. One thing.” Lisa pushes forward a document. “Here’s the proof of the invite for sponsors and key donors.”

Claire glances at the paper proof. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a pair of drugstore readers. She scans.

“Valet?”

“Yes. We’ll need to rope off the main lot next to the Nic.”

“You can’t have that lot, Lisa. Are we going to make everyone else park on the street?”

“We’re definitely not going to have our VIPs park on the street. They’ll be arriving later since they are attending the Bourbon tasting at the Country Club. Your idea.”

“I know. And we incorporated all of your asks there. We upped the budget and fundraising goal. You’re getting your VIP event. But our agreement was that the main event on the lawn would be community-focused.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. We are not going to ask VIPs to attend the event at the Country Club, then drive into town and search for street parking while other people have filled the lot already. It’s disrespectful.”

“It’s disrespectful to throw a community event, and then signal at the entrance that the community is less important than this handful of people. Make everybody else find street parking, but god forbid the folks in heels and Caiman boots have to.”

“Claire, I’m going to insist. This is silly. We need to approve the invites. This is just customary at an event like this.”

“No. I’m the committee chair. We partnered on this. I think we’re in a good place where we’ve compromised and created something that works for everyone. But I have budget authority. This decision is mine.”

“OK. Well then I’ll just pay for the invites and valet parking out of pocket. Rand’s firm is the anchor sponsor anyway. It’s not much more money. I think that should buy me some say.”

“Sure, go ahead Lisa. Buy this too,” Claire says. Nearby patrons look on now.

“Would you like to clarify what you mean, Claire?”

“You know what I mean. Actually, if you want to run this event, you should. The checks your husband and his friends write mean you own it anyway.”

“That’s not what I want and you know it,” Lisa says.

“I’m done with this for the day. Goodbye Lisa.”

Claire stuffs her papers into her bag, pushes in her chair and walks out of the shop. Lisa stands up and watches her walk out.

[1] Lisa Hargrove and the Nic fundraiser—including the clash over “Summer in Style” and the vote to co-chair—are introduced in Summer in Style.

[2] Rand (Randall Hargrove) is Lisa’s husband; his firm Hargrove Capital Partners focuses on carbon capture in the Powder River Basin. Introduced in Summer in Style.

[3] Sally is the Junior League of Casper board president who proposed Claire and Lisa as co-chairs for the Nic event. Summer in Style.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar is referenced fictitiously and is not associated with or responsible for any depiction in this work.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up from the beginning: Perfect on Paper.

Thanks for checking out my Substack.

I am serializing my first novel, Wild As Her, here for free. Once it is complete, I plan to re-edit the full work and publish it digitally behind a paywall.

What I hope to deliver on Substack are posts that stand on their own, but deepen in the context of the broader story. My worlds are shaped through landscape, human affairs, and emotional geography.

Wild As Her is about an ancient place that is changing rapidly. The craton beneath central Wyoming is roughly 2.5 billion years old, some of the oldest land on the continent. Pronghorn antelope began roaming the plains around 20 million years ago.

Horses returned in the 16th century after a ten-thousand-year absence. Ranching took off after Reconstruction. Then barbed wire. Range wars. Then oil.

Newer economic and cultural forces now press against the Northern Rockies. This story is about the people caught between.

Two women with very different lives find one another in a place shaped by complex family, community, and class obligations.

Romance tropes: Slow burn • Late in life awakening • Opposites attract • Small town Western romance • Class differences

NOTE: This guide includes spoilers. Start with the first post, Perfect on Paper, here if you want to avoid them.

Chapter 1: Perfect on Paper

Chapter 1 introduces Claire Colter in her contained world. We see the family obligations that define her days: managing the ranch household, navigating small town politics, and maintaining the social performance expected of a Colter wife.

The financial strain on the ranch is palpable, but Claire keeps it hidden behind polished surfaces. This chapter establishes the family dynamics that will shape everything to come—Bobby’s physical wear, the weight of the Colter legacy, and Claire’s quiet exhaustion with a life that looks perfect on paper.

Chapter 1 Posts

Perfect on paper

Summer in style

Behind closed doors

Chapter 2: Quiet Season

Chapter 2 shifts to Simone “Sim” Booker’s world in Jackson, showing how she’s built a found family far from her Philadelphia roots. We see the New West community she’s integrated into—Walt and Marian Smith’s ranch, Mario’s coffee shop, Dani’s kitchen.

This chapter explores the economic realities of living in an expensive mountain town while following your passion, and the choices that come with that life. Sim’s community is built on mutual respect and shared work, contrasting with Claire’s world of social obligations and inherited expectations.

Chapter 2 Posts

Keeping fences mended

Small town, big personalities

What we’re holding onto

The weight of home

Chapter 3: Heat in the Neon Light

Chapter 3 brings characters together under the neon lights of the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar. Sim and Claire meet in the same crowded space, separated by social lines but drawn by something neither can name yet. The chemistry is immediate, undeniable. Sim leaves with her new acquaintance Lauren instead, walking through the cold, quiet town square to a warm hotel room.

The chapter explores the tourist/local dynamics of Jackson’s nightlife and the way desire can crack through social performance when the lights are low and the music is loud.

Chapter 3 Posts

Heat in the neon light (Part I)

Heat in the neon light (Part II)

The walk home

Chapter 4: The Spark Between Us

Chapter 4 is about recognition. The morning after with Lauren is softer than Sim expects, but it’s the encounter at Porch Coffee that changes everything. Claire and Sim finally talk. Mario sees what Sim is trying not to name—this is more than just curiosity.

Chapter 4 Posts

The spark between us

Chapter 5: Worlds Apart, Wanting

Chapter 5 pulls the camera back across Wyoming to show how family pressure and economic forces are reshaping both Claire’s and Sim’s worlds. In Casper, Bobby’s siblings arrive with agendas that will test the ranch’s future. In Jackson, Sim learns that Dani and Mario are leaving, threatening the found family that has anchored her.

The chapter explores how family obligations and economic pressures create the conditions for change. Or collapse.

Chapter 5 Posts

Who stays, who goes

Cold wind, hot steel

The cost of belonging

Chapter 6: One Night, One Chance

Chapter 6 marks a shift: Claire acts on impluse. She attends a wildlife photography exhibition in Jackson, moving through the cultural spaces that bridge her world and Sim’s. The desire that’s been simmering finally brings them together for a long, boozy night.

Chapter 6 Posts

Small and mighty

When the song ends

Chapter 7: Almost yours

Chapter 7 explores what happens after desire breaks through. The morning after their intimate moment in the suite, Claire and Sim navigate the aftermath, trying to draw boundaries even as the pull between them grows stronger. They turn to one another for a kind of distant companionship. Can this last, or is desire ultimately uncontainable?

Chapter 7 Posts

Just friends

Family strategy

Joy and pain

Chapter 8: Roots and Restlessness

Chapter 8 shifts to Sim’s home town outside Philadelphia, the place and family she left behind. Around the dinner table, love is evident, but so is the growing distance between Sim’s chosen life and her family’s expectations. This chapter reveals why Sim chose Wyoming and the cost of that choice—and how Claire has become part of that equation, even if Sim hasn’t named it yet.

Chapter 8 Posts

Where you’re from

Raising L

Chapter 9: Inheritance

Chapter 9 turns on what gets passed down: violence and tenderness, fear and the will to do differently. A flashback reveals Bobby’s formation. In the present, he sits at dinner with Garrett and Claire, offering his son the kind of patience he never received. A late stop for gas outside Dubois puts Sim alone in the dark with a stranger who knows exactly how to make her feel unsafe. Back in Casper, Claire faces Lisa Hargrove over the Nic fundraiser. After a meeting leaves her unsettled, Claire pushes herself in spin class; a brief exchange in the locker room lingers. Alone in her SUV, she makes a call she can’t unmake.

Chapter 9 Posts

Gate and table

Customary

Something I need to tell you

Chapter 10: Closer Than Ever

Chapter 10 tightens the distance between Claire and Sim. Claire dreams of Sim, texts her at breakfast, and confesses the new friend to Bobby. The Colter siblings set a deadline: August first for the ranch decision. Sim spends the Fourth in Lander with her ex Casey and Casey’s wife Autumn—fireworks, cold Coors, old wounds on the deck after midnight. Casey tells Sim why they didn’t work out and what she needs to do with the new girl. The next morning, Sim watches the Winds and makes the call.

Chapter 10 Posts

August first

Reckless optimist

Chapter 11: Breaking Through

Chapter 11 brings Claire to Lander: the Noble and the brewery deck with Casey and Autumn, then a night at the Lander Bar where the room watches them dance. The next morning they shoulder packs and walk into the Wind River high country — borrowed gear, lodgepole and granite, camp competence edging into tenderness at Big Stough.

Chapter 11 Posts

Wide open

Close and careful

Borrowed things

Chapter 12: The Meadow

Chapter 12 holds them in the basin through alpenglow and rising trout, then a night that changes things. Morning is cold coffee and miles back down through lodgepole and granite to the trailhead, then the drive and a goodbye at the Noble. The backcountry container closes; phones, pavement, and the life waiting on the other side return in layers.

Chapter 12 Posts

The long way down

Thank you for reading. This guide is current through Chapter 12 and The long way down; I’ll update it again when the serial moves past that bundle. I hope you come to love these characters and setting as much as I do.

Thank you for reading. I’ll update this page with new chapters as they are completed. I hope you come to love these characters and setting as much as I do.

Stay kind and stay lovely,

Lindy

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar is referenced fictitiously and is not associated with or responsible for any depiction in this work.

June 15, 1989 — Colter Ranch, outside Casper

It’s after 8 PM, full sun still. Kate walks into the barn. She grabs the curry comb from the toolbox and opens Juniper’s pen.

She strokes his white muzzle.

“Bobby!” She hears her father’s (Robert Sr.) voice through the open barn door. She moves out of sight behind the stall door. She brushes the horse silently.

“Bobby. Where the fuck are you, boy!”

“Dad, I’m here.” Bobby’s voice is pitched higher than his twelve years.

“When you hear me call, you come to me, boy.”

“Yessir.”

“Did you leave the back gate open again?”

Bobby is quiet. “I... I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so?”

“No.”

“The fuck you didn’t. Do you want coyotes eating our calves? You going to pay for them?”

“Nossir.”

A long pause. Kate stops brushing and holds her breath.

“Are you crying, boy? Jesus fucking Christ. Are you a man or not? Crying like a little girl. Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I don’t know.” His voice cracks. Kate can’t see him now, but she’s seen her brother’s face screw up like this dozens of times.

“Goddammit. I hope you don’t cry like this at football practice. Can’t have Coach going around town telling everyone my son is a fucking sissy.”

She hears Bobby sniffle.

“Cut it out. Your mother may let you blubber like a little girl, but I won’t.”

“OK.”

“OK what? Are you going to get your lazy ass back out to that pen to check for coyotes?”

“Yessir.”

“Move your ass.”

Silence. Juniper stirs. Kate cups his muzzle gently.

“What’s that look, boy? Something you want to say to me?”

“I ain’t no sissy. Don’t say that again.”

“Oh. Big man now, are you?”

Kate freezes, holds her breath.

Pounding footsteps. Hollow collision and struggle.

“What are you going to do about it?” Robert Sr. grunts through gritted teeth.

A body hits the exterior wall of the barn. A twelve-year-old’s scream. Then silence.

“Fucking bastard. Touch me again, I’ll kill you!”

“That’s right, boy. You tell ‘em. Have some vinegar like your brothers.”

She can hear Bobby breathing heavily. Almost a croak.

“You’re gonna run this place one day, boy[1].”

“Like hell I will.”

“Go check those pens.”

A long silence. Kate holds still in the pen, hand on Juniper.

She hears Bobby walk away, then her father cursing under his breath. Breathing heavily.

Kate lets out a long exhale. She starts to brush the horse again. Jaw set tight.

She puts the curry brush back in the toolbox. The handle left an imprint in the skin of her hand. She brushes the hand on her jeans, then slams the toolbox shut.

+++

June 15, 2025 — Colter Ranch, outside Casper

Bobby kicks off his boots at the mud room door. Walks to the bathroom, pushing up his flannel shirt sleeves. He washes up and comes out.

“Hamburger steaks, alright. I’m starving,” he says, sitting down across from Garrett.

Garrett is hunched over his plate. Hamburger patty split with his fork, baked potato demolished, peas spread around.

“You gonna eat that, son? Or just mess with it?”

“I’m eatin’ it,” Garrett says. “Chill out.”

Bobby smiles. Claire puts a plate down in front of him.

“What is this?” Bobby asks, loud for comedic effect.

“Turkey burger, honey. And a baked sweet potato.”

“This is Wyoming, baby. We don’t raise turkeys here on the ranch.”

“Don’t start with me, Bobby,” she says evenly, looking into his eyes.

“I’ll eat it. Thank you, honey.”

Claire heads back into the kitchen, returns with her own plate. She sits down at the table.

“Can use some help this week, son,” Bobby says.

“I’d like that. What you got in mind?”

“Take the quad down and check the irrigation ditches? I’ve been meaning to get to it, but not yet.”

“Sure.”

“We need to spray weeds too. Can you get with Terry[2] and put together a plan? Get down to the store for supplies. We’ve got credit.”

“I know you’re excited about summer on the ranch. But we should start setting up college visits,” Claire says.

“Mhmm.”

“Where do you want to visit?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, do you want to go to a big city or a small town for college?”

Garrett screws up his face. “Not a big city.”

Bobby smiles.

“Did you like Boulder?”

“Little too fancy. And my grades aren’t good enough for a scholarship like Savannah.”

Bobby shakes his head, mouth full. Claire shoots him a look.

“You get in-state tuition at Laramie. You’ve been to a few ball games there.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well. Give it some thought.”

“Why do I even need to go to college? I’m already a good hand. Can’t I just work here?”

She pauses before answering. “Garrett, we’ve talked about this. You need an education so you can have opportunities off the ranch.”

“But I hate school, momma. You’re going to make me do four more years of it? For what? I’m not like Savannah[3].”

Bobby sighs, looks at his son. “Garrett, you’re going to need an education. Ranching is hard work on a good day. Making this place work is becoming near impossible[4]. It might not always be here for you.”

“Didn’t your parents make you go to college, Dad? Wasn’t that just a waste of time and money?”

“My situation was different. My daddy didn’t give me a choice[5].”

“What did you want to do instead?”

“I don’t know exactly, that’s the point. Something else.”

“Oh.”

“I just want you to get an education and keep an open mind. Find something you’d like to do. Get off the ranch for a few years and make your own way. If you decide that you want to come back, we’ll figure something out for you, OK?”

“OK. Thanks Dad.”

“You bet. You know we’re proud of you, right?”

“I know.”

Claire reaches out for Garrett’s hand. She places her palm on the back of his.

+++

Claire is loading the dishwasher. Bobby comes back in through the mud room.

He nods at Claire and continues toward the bedroom to shower.

“Bobby,” she says quietly.

He turns toward her. She embraces him.

“Thank you,” she whispers into his ear.

“For what?”

“For talking with Garrett tonight.”

She squeezes him and rests her head on his chest. He melts into her embrace. Smells her hair.

[1] Will and Tom discussed their father’s legacy and their own career paths in Family strategy here. Will warned Bobby about the ranch’s financial future in Cold wind, hot steel here.

[2] Terry Ellison, the ranch hand, helped Bobby with his shoulder injury in Perfect on Paper here.

[3] Savannah Colter, Bobby and Claire’s daughter, is mentioned as away at University of Colorado in Perfect on Paper here.

[4] Will warned Bobby that the ranch operation trust would be exhausted within 18 months in Cold wind, hot steel here. The financial projections were discussed in Family strategy here.

[5] Will and Tom discuss their father’s philosophy on ownership and legacy in Family strategy here.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Customary.

May 16, 2025 — Ardmore, Pennsylvania

Naomi and Sim are at Vernon V. Young Memorial Park, a five-minute walk from the Booker home on Cricket Ave. Langston climbs up the stairs of the play structure, headed for the twisty slide.

“How’s the house search going?” Sim asks.

“Ugh. Let’s not talk about that,” her sister replies.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“That sucks. You both work so hard.”

“Yeah, two doctors, you think that would be enough.”

“Mom and Dad were teachers when they bought in here[1].”

“We’re going to have to move way out, I think.”

Sim looks at her sister’s face. Then over at Langston.

“I just want to be able to live like Mom and Dad. Raise L like we were raised.”

Langston has just made it down the twisty slide. A wide smile spreads across his face.

“Nice job, baby!” Naomi is using her calm mother voice.

“You two must be so tired,” Sim says.

“Yeah. Kenny is on the chief of medicine track. I’m three days a week, which is nice for L. Mom helps a lot. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I’m glad they’re nearby.”

“It’s just frustrating, you know? Feels like we’re barely getting by. So much school debt.”

“You’re not exactly selling the whole ‘settle down and have kids’ thing.”

Naomi smiles at her sister. “You’re right. It’s hard. But it’s totally worth it. I love L. And I love that I get to raise him here around family. Don’t you miss us?”

“Of course. It’s just... I have my own thing going out west.”

“Freedom is overrated, Sim. You need to be around the people that need you. Have you seen grandmama?”

“Later today. How is she?”

“We don’t have her much longer.”

“Yeah, that’s what mom said.”

Langston runs up to his auntie Sim and offers her a woodchip from the ground. “Oh, thank you L!” she says.

“It’s not just grandma though, Sim. Mom and Dad are getting older too.”

“I know,” Sim says quietly.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

“No. Not right now. Not dating anyone, at least.”

“Oh I see you, sister.” She smiles, nudges Sim’s shoulder.

“Stop it,” Sim smirks, averts her eyes.

“You know we all loved Casey[2]. Even if she was very loud.”

“There’s a woman[3]. She’s nice. Older. Lives in a different part of the state.”

“Oh. A wo-man. Who you’ve seen more than once? Wow!”

“She’s different. Grown up. We’re just friends though.”

“Oh.”

“We almost hooked up[4]. I mean I kissed her and she kissed me back.”

“Anything you’re not telling me, Sim?”

“Ugh... she’s married to a man. Please don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

“Simone! You need to be careful!”

“I know! I’m just... I just can’t get her out of my mind. We text all the time. Once, she called me while she was on the road. We talked for hours.”

“That does sound nice. Kenny is a wonderful husband and father, but I can’t get that motherfucker on the phone for more than two minutes to save my life,” she smiles broadly.

“Black lady, white lady?”

She sighs. “White lady, you know it’s a white lady in Wyoming.”

“You know this is trouble. I don’t even have to tell you.”

“I know! I’m just... Maybe we can just stay friends.”

“You know that isn’t going to happen. You two are going to be naked together in bed and you’ll still be saying that to yourself.”

“Stop it,” Sim swats her sister’s shoulder. They both laugh.

“Be careful though. For real. This might be dangerous.”

“I know. I love you Naomi.”

“I love you too, little sister.”

They both turn to watch Langston. He walks up to a little girl. Hands her a wood chip. She beams, turns to her mom and hands it to her.

“Hey does Miles have a girlfriend?” Sim asks.

“Girl, if I knew, I would have already told you.”

“He’s so funny. He never talks about that.”

“He’s so handsome too. Tall. Nice smile. Even those big ears are cute. I know he’s got girls texting him all the time.” Naomi rolls her eyes.

“What does he do when he’s not working?”

“I think he just plays video games with his boys.”

“Of course.”

“Yeah I don’t get it either. But I don’t dare ask him about it. Mama does though. All the time. I just listen and keep my mouth shut!”

They both laugh.

Sim takes a sidestep closer to her big sister. Leans her head on her shoulder. Naomi leans into her. “It’s good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home.”

+++

Miss Evie lives in a care home in Lower Merion Township, not far from her daughter.

Her husband James retired with a pension and benefits after his career with a hard goods manufacturer. He took a buyout as the industry was starting to offshore jobs in the mid-1990s.

A few years into retirement, he took a greeter job at a nearby Wal-Mart.

In his later years, he couldn’t run an errand without stopping to talk with two or three different friends on the street. Mr. Jimmy’s booming laugh carried for a block.

At age 77, a stroke took him. Evie lived in the small bungalow where she raised her kids with James until she needed to move into the facility.

Sim walks into her room. She’s fully dressed and sitting in her chair, reading. She puts down the book and smiles “Simone! Come here, baby and give your grandma a hug!”

“Don’t get up grandmama.” She leans down and squeezes the older woman gently. Miss Evie reaches up and grasps Sim’s face, depositing a loud kiss.

“How are you, baby. You look so pretty.”

Sim smiles warmly. Has a seat in the chair next to her.

“I’m good. You look good.”

“I look old. Don’t lie to your elders.”

They both laugh. Sim crooks her head slightly, takes in the woman in front of her.

“I’m so glad you came to visit me, honey.”

“I can’t miss you when I’m in town.”

“Tell me about your life out west! Cowboys and mountains?”

“Yeah, grandmama. Lots of that. I’m taking a summer job working for that organization[5] that gets teenagers outdoors to learn leadership skills.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

The older woman’s eyes are glassy. Speech is a little slower than the last time she and Sim spoke.

“Your mama and daddy must be so proud of you, teaching children like them.”

“I think so. I’m not a doctor like Naomi, but I think they’re proud of me.”

“They are. We’re all equal in the eyes of the lord, baby. They may not say it enough, but they are proud of you. I am too.”

“Thanks grandma.” Sim hesitates. “I don’t know what I’m doing, to be honest. Everybody here wants me to come home. Get a real job. Get married. I don’t know.”

Mrs. Evie takes a long time to respond, looking at her grandaughter’s eyes carefully. “Is that what you want?”

“I’m not sure. It would be nice to be closer to all of you. But I’d miss my life out there, you know?”

Miss Evie is smaller now. Arms and fingers skinnier, but she still talks with her hands.

“I do know. And you don’t have to be sure, honey. You need to make your own life.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Maybe I could have stayed in Richmond. My parents were well respected in the community. But I was opinionated. Spoke my mind. I couldn’t stand having to hold my tongue around white folks.[6]”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Nineteen. Mom and Dad gave me a little bit of money and put me on the train, sent me to live with a cousin up here. I never left Philly.”

“What did your parents say to you?”

“They thought they would send me up here, and that would calm me down. Let me come back down with a cooler head and fit in.”

“So they thought you’d come home too?”

“Yes baby. But I loved West Philadelphia. So many black people from the South. We had our own restaurants, our own stores. I could keep my head high here.”

“Were people racist here too, though?”

“Of course. Some were more racist than the white people down south.”

“Did your parents understand why you wanted to stay?”

“Not at first. All they knew was Virginia. This place was strange to them. Life up here was a relief to me, but scary to them.”

“Did they like Grandpa when you first got together?”

Evie laughs. “Oh no, baby! Your grandaddy was from a poor sharecropper family outside Albany, GA. My family was educated, established. Respected. They didn’t like his accent. Or the color of his skin. They called him a black redneck.”

“Grandma. That’s crazy!”

“It’s true. After I started dating him, they tried to get me to split up with him. Had my cousin set me up on dates with more ‘suitable’ men. Over time though, they came to love him too.”

“What did you like about Grandaddy?”

“We were so alike. And we both fell in love with this place. I didn’t care that he worked with his hands. He was so kind. And honey, that man was so good looking when he was younger.”

“Grandma!”

Evie smiles. “He always wanted to go to the pictures. Didn’t have them where he grew up. I’d lay my head on his shoulder and watch his face while he watched the screen.”

“What’s a movie you saw together?”

“What was it...Imitation of Life. It had Mahalia Jackson and Juanita Moore [7]. Some other black actors too I don’t remember. Mahalia sings. I look over, and Mr. Jimmy has a tear running down his face.”

“That’s so sweet. Did you two ever fight?”

“Oh yes, baby. But always with love. People didn’t get divorced as much back then. And you didn’t want to air your dirty laundry. But there was a lot to argue about. Some really hard days. Bringing up children away from my family. My life wasn’t easy. But it was my life.”

“So do you think I should move home?”

“That’s for you to decide, baby. And only you. You only get one life. Make it the best you can. I did. I have you and your brother and sister and all your cousins to prove it.”

“I love you, grandmama. Thank you.”

She leans toward Sim, gives her another hug.

“Now. Tell me about your love life. Naomi said something about a new girlfriend. Is she pretty? Good in bed?”

“Grandma!”

+++

Bobby walks out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. Claire is reading a book in bed. He takes a step with an unsteady hitch.

“You OK, honey?” Claire asks.

Bobby mumbles, “yeah babe. I’m good.”

He walks to the closet, pulls on a T-shirt.

“Bobby, have you been drinking?”

“I had a drink. It’s Friday.”

“Just one?”

“I had a few whiskeys, Claire.”

“Baby you know the doctor wants you to drink less.”

“It calms me down, honey. I’m under a lot of stress. You know that.”

She puts down the book. Looks at him. He avoids her eyes, walks back to the bathroom and drops his towel in the hamper.

“Bobby.”

“What.”

“Are you OK?”

“I’m OK, Claire. I just have a lot on my plate right now. The bills, my fucking brothers[8].”

Claire looks at him, her face softens. He sighs.

“Fucking tax assessment came in[9]. It’s insane. I have to beg the county for time to have them take less of my money. I’ll be deeper in the hole to Will, Tom and Kate. If they’re even willing to lend me more money.”

“I’m so sorry baby. The hits keep on coming, I know. Will you talk to somebody? I’m worried about you.”

Bobby scowls. “I’m not sick in the head, Claire. I don’t need to talk to somebody. I’m fine. Just stressed.”

“Honey, you need to take care of yourself.”

“I know. I will. I just need you to leave me alone while I deal with some things.”

“What do you mean, Bobby?”

“You’re always pushing me about my diet, my drinking. That’s the last thing I need. I need you to stand by me, not criticize me.”

She sits up, face tightens.

“I want you to be healthy. How is that not standing by you?”

Bobby looks away.

“Your Daddy lived to a ripe old age but that was after two heart attacks. And you’re heavier than he was, Bobby. I’m scared of what might happen to you.”

“I’m done talking about this,” Bobby says. “I’m going to sleep in the other room.”

“Fine. You do that.”

[1] Rev. Virginia Pollard’s observation (Mt. Zion Baptist, 6ABC 2019): “Even their college-educated children cannot afford to buy homes locally.” Naomi and Kenny (both physicians with ~$300k-$400k combined income) cannot afford a home in the neighborhood where Naomi grew up, despite their professional success. More here.

[2] Sim explained her friendship with Casey, her ex-girlfriend, in Just friends here.

[3] Sim and Claire established their friendship in Just Friends here.

[4] Sim and Claire first kissed in When the song ends here.

[5] Sim discussed her NOLS work and plans to move to Lander in What we’re holding onto here.

[6] For an excellent exploration of the Great Migration and the experiences of Black Americans leaving the South for freedom and opportunity, read Isabel Wilkerson’s “The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration” available here.

[7] Mahalia Jackson performs “Trouble of the World” in the funeral scene of “Imitation of Life” (1959), directed by Douglas Sirk. Watch the scene here. Learn more about the film here.*

[8] Bobby’s brothers Will, Tom, and Kate gathered at the ranch to discuss the development deal in Who stays, who goes here. Will and Tom strategized about the Colter Reserve deal in Family Strategy here.*

[9] While agricultural assessments are lower per acre, property taxes are statutory in Wyoming, and difficult to pay when ranches are not profitable. For historical context on Wyoming property taxes, see AARP Wyoming, “Wyoming Property Taxes from 1889 to Today” (2024). Article here.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Gate and table.

May 15, 2025 — Ardmore, Pennsylvania

The Booker home on Cricket Avenue is white clapboard. A Main Line four-by-four with a Craftsman porch.

There’s a massive Norway Maple in the parking strip directly in front. It shades the house when the sun rises in summer over the houses on Sheldon and Spring. Particularly through the window of the upper bedroom where each of the Booker children spent their high school years. First Naomi, then Sim, then Miles, each moving in when their older sibling departed for university.

David, Sim’s father, started really babying this tree after Miles left home. On summer mornings, he’s outside in his socks and slides, watering the roots with the garden hose before the sun peeks over the nearby roofs. So much of the beauty and comfort of this house relies on that tree.

Despite his efforts, the upper branches are bare from verticillium. Many of the maples in the township have the fungus. Eventually fatal. But as David jokes, with proper care, this tree will outlive him.

The street is dark now. The branches and crisscrossing power lines illuminated by streetlight.

The Bookers are all together again at the dining table. David, Patricia, Sim. Her older sister Naomi and son Langston. Her younger brother Miles. Langston smashes his peas with the back of his toddler fork. Then picks one up and tosses it off his high chair tray.

“Eat them, baby,” Patricia says.

“Sim, Mama says you’re moving again. What for?” asks Naomi.

“You know—seasonal work. I’m moving to Lander to work for NOLS again[1].”

“Uh huh. And where is Lander compared to Jackson?”

“Jackson is up in the central-western to northwestern corner of the state. South of Yellowstone Park. Lander is this tiny town a few hours southwest at the base of the Wind River Range.”

“You ever think about staying in one place? Putting down roots?”

“Naomi,” Patricia says.

Sim’s face tightens. “I love my seasonal work. I’m happy with the life I’ve built.”

“Don’t you want more? A home? Community?”

“I have a community. I love my people there. I’ve got friends and relationships in Jackson[2] and Lander. That’s why I like to move back and forth.”

“You know what I mean. Your family is back east. Your community.”

“What exactly do you mean by my community Naomi?”

Langston squeals as his grandmother wipes his mouth.

“Naomi, we’re all glad your sister is here to visit. Welcome home, honey,” David says.

“I wonder who paid for the ticket?” says Naomi.

“Naomi, that’s enough,” David says.

Miles carefully interjects, “I think it’s really cool. My friends know Wyoming is a state, but not much else. They ended up in New York or Boston. My big sister is a mountain climber out west.”

Sim reaches over and strokes the hair on the back of her little brother’s head.

“It’s good to see you all. I missed you.”

Langston wiggles as Patricia picks him up out of the high chair.

“I got L, Mama. You visit with Sim.” Naomi carries Langston out of the room for a change.

“Let me help you with the dishes, Mom,” says Sim.

On cue, the rest of the family members stand up and start carrying their empty dishes to the kitchen. They make a few trips in and out of the small threshold between dining room and kitchen. Miles wipes down the dining table while Sim takes the station at the dishwasher, edging her mother out. David retires to the family room.

“Have some tea or something, Mama, sit down,” Sim says.

“I’m fine, baby.”

“How’s Grandmama?”

“She wanted to be here, but she’s getting harder and harder to move around. She likes her place at the home, but she’s old and cranky. You know how it goes.”

“I’ll go see her tomorrow afternoon.”

“You should. She’s getting old, honey. I don’t know how many more visits you’ll have with her.”

At first Sim doesn’t respond. Continues to carefully load dishes. Plates on one side, bowls on another.

The white shaker cabinets are clean but obviously worn. Opened and shut thousands of times. A few art pieces and high school photos hang on the front of the white refrigerator.

After a beat, “I know she’s old, Mama. That must be hard for you.”

“Your sister is being mean to you, but she’s not wrong. We miss you here. You’re so far from family. Everything is so expensive out there. When you want to get married and start a family, how are you going to make it work?”

“I’m a mountain climbing lesbian, Mom.”

Patricia smiles. “That’s no excuse. I still expect grandbabies some day. And I want to help you raise them if I can. I want to be there for all my children.”

“I know Mom. It’s complicated though. I’ve made a life out there. I feel more alive there. More myself. I’m not a Booker. I’m not a Black girl from Philly. It’s my life and I love what I have out there. Even if I’m no closer to grandbabies than when I first left home.”

Patricia comes behind her for a hug. “I love you honey. You know that, right?”

“Of course, Mom. I love you too.”

“What happened to that nice girl you brought home a couple of years ago? Casey?”

“We’re still friends[3]. I’m actually going to stay with her for a few weeks when I get back to Lander.”

“Mhmm.”

“Mom. It’s not like that. She has a girlfriend. We’re just good friends now.”

“If you say so. If I were her girlfriend, no way in hell I’d let you stay in my house.”

Sim smirks. “Mom! I am not trying to cause drama like that.”

“OK. If you say so.” Patricia hugs her daughter again, smiling.

Miles steps into the kitchen doorframe. “I need to get back to Malvern. I got work in the morning.”

They each take their turn saying goodbye to Patricia’s youngest child.

Later, Patricia and Sim sit in the family room with David. David is reading the PSEA Newsletter.

The original fireplace and built-in bookshelves dominate the family room. David’s history books. Patricia’s literature. Toni Morrison, Ralph Ellison, Octavia Butler. Also David Foster Wallace, Annie Proulx.

“Dad, I thought you retired?”

“I gotta watch my damn pension! Plus you can’t take me out of the classroom entirely. I’m still taking sub days.”

“Good for you.”

“I gotta get out of the house somehow, or your mother and I will end up divorced.”

“Hush up,” says Patricia.

“You know, you move back and we can get you on in no time. You’ve got the degree. We just get your certification. Some school here would love to have you.”

“I’m good Daddy.”

“I gave her the talk David, no luck. She’s still in love with the wild west.”

“I understand baby. In due time.”

“I’m not saying never, I just... I’m trying to make a life. I want it to be mine. And I love it out there. So much.”

“Baby, as long as there’s breath in my body, you’ll have a home here. Don’t let us talk you into a life that isn’t yours.”

“I appreciate it, Daddy. And yes I know I can always come home.”

Later that night, Sim lies in the bed in the upstairs bedroom. The big maple rustles gently. She can hear the quiet shush or clank of a car occasionally driving by. She rolls over to look out the window at the tree. Then grabs her phone from the bedside table.

> You awake?[4]

She waits for the heart emoji. Then it appears on her text message. Then the typing bubble. She exhales and smiles, screen illuminating her face.

[1] Sim discussed her NOLS work and plans to move to Lander in What we’re holding onto here https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/what-were-holding-onto?r=6ih655.

[2] Spend some time with Sim and her community in Small town, big personalities here https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/small-town-big-personalities?r=6ih655

[3] Sim explained her friendship with Casey, her ex-girlfriend, in Just friends here https://open.substack.com/pub/lindensblaine/p/just-friends?r=6ih655.

[4] Sim and Claire go from potential lovers in https://lindensblaine.substack.com/p/when-the-song-ends?r=6ih655 to friends in Just Friends here https://open.substack.com/pub/lindensblaine/p/just-friends?r=6ih655.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Raising L.

April 13, 2025 — Colter Ranch, outside Casper

Bobby’s in the tiny ranch office. His decades-old steel desk piled high with papers. He’s got his reading glasses on. He sighs, moving a sheet from one pile to another. “Wish I could pay you,” he mumbles to no one.

He glances at his phone face down on the desk. Picks it up. Opens the Find My app. Sees Claire’s location. Puts the phone down. Pushes his chair back and sighs. Pounds his fist on the desk.

He gets up, takes a few steps to the tall beige file cabinet. He opens the top drawer and reaches to the back. Pulls back a bottle. An old fifth of Buffalo Trace. He pulls the cork. Sets it on the desk. Stares for a beat.

He picks up his coffee cup and drains it. Pours whiskey in. Takes a sip. Grimaces.

He picks up the sheet of paper again. “I hate this shit,” he says loudly.

***

April 13, 2025 — Various Points Wyoming

Sim is back at the Smith ranch[1] a few hours later. Showered and dressed. She checks in with Walt and Marion on chores. Walks outside to get some air. She starts walking the fence line. Her phone rings. She checks the caller.

> Claire

“Hey Claire. Everything OK[2]?”

“Yes. Of course, can you talk?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Oh I thought I’d just call and see if you can keep me company on part of the drive back?”

Sim smiles broadly. “I’d love that. Where are you now? Past Dubois with a good signal?”

“You know it,” Claire says.

“Good. I’ve got all afternoon.” She walks back toward the house, phone pressed to her ear.

***

April 13, 2025 — Bozeman Yellowstone International Airport

Tom settles into a chair at the bar back at Bozeman/Yellowstone. The sun hangs over the Bridger range. Hours from setting. He orders a beer. BBC Ridge Pilsner. Takes a sip. Opens his phone and taps to dial.

“Hey honey.” A pause, then he continues.

“Yeah, back at the airport. I’m taking the 4PM home.”

“Good meeting. Family business like we talked about.”

He leans back in the chair slightly.

“You know Will. Drama queen. Makes everybody come to him.”

“Yeah. It’s always nice to see family.”

“How are the kids?”

An extra long pause. He shifts in his chair and takes a sip.

“That’s great. How did Reed do on his science exam?”

“Nice.” His voice gets lower. “Any word from Charlotte?”

Another long pause. Another sip. He taps his fingers on the bar.

“Well honey I do try to call her. But she won’t take my call.”

His face tightens. Exhales.

“It’s been almost a month. Was I really that far out of line? She knows that I love her.”

His hand tightens on the bar into a fist as he listens to the other side of the conversation.

“Fuck me. I don’t know what to do.”

Another long pause. His face contorts hard. He exhales.

“I know.”

“OK. Well I miss you. Don’t wait up. I need to swing by the office for a minute on my way home.”

“I know. Can’t be helped. Excomm meeting in the morning.”

Tapping fingers again.

“Love you too. Bye.”

***

April 13, 2025 — Yellowstone Club, Big Sky, Montana

Will is in one of the residences back at Warren Miller lodge. The bedroom is cabin themed. More Douglas fir. High end carpeting that ends at the master bathroom threshold, then marble. He’s in his boxer shorts, no shirt, barefoot.

He crosses into the bathroom. In the fading evening light, he looks into the mirror. Traces the bag under his right eye. He splashes his face with water from the sink.

Carrie, the dark haired young woman who served them lunch, glides in behind him. She’s topless. She wraps her arms around his waist and presses behind him. Kisses his shoulder. “Silver fox,” she says quietly.

“You know I hate that,” Will says.

“Got me into your bed that first time, didn’t it?”

“That and a $3,500 bar bill. You and your friends are not a cheap date, honey.”

She punches him in the shoulder gently, exits the bathroom. “You know it’s not about that.”

“It’s sort of about that. If I were a social worker, I wouldn’t have a chance in hell.”

She ignores him, asks from the other room. “Who was that you were meeting with at lunch[3]?”

“My brother Tom. Hey- I’m entertaining some money guys this week. You have friends around we can take out again, show them a good time?”

A long pause.

“Shit. Does he know about us? You should have told me I’d have someone else handle your table.”

“He doesn’t know and I don’t care if he finds out. My business.”

“But you’re married, right?”

“Yeah and we’re not splitting up. You already know that.”

“Sure. But does she know about me?”

“Not exactly. We have an understanding though. She lives the lifestyle she wants. I have my own... extracurriculars. I’m sure you know you’re not my first. Definitely the prettiest though.”

He walks back into the bedroom. She’s in the bed under the covers, still not dressed.

“You better believe I am. I like how you give me the facts and tell me how it is,” she says. She smiles at him, biting her lower lip.

“Do you?” he smiles, climbing onto the end of the bed.

“I really do. You have another one in you, old man?” She lets the bed covers fall away, meeting his mouth as he crawls toward her.

***

April 13, 2025 — Colter Ranch, outside Casper

Later that night. The Colter ranch is quiet. Hours after sundown. Bobby just climbed into bed. He bunches the covers around him. Long day of fixing irrigation.

Claire stares at herself in the mirror. The bathroom door is open, casting light out into the bedroom. Her hair is down. She straightens a lock around her face. Pouts her lips. Inhales. She flips off the light and heads into the bedroom.

“Hi handsome,” she says. The moonlight shines on her from outside. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt. Legs are bare.

Bobby turns her way, sits up. “Hey gorgeous.”

She peels off the T-shirt to reveal her nicest underwear. Nothing else. She tosses the shirt. Walks toward Bobby.

“Oh my god,” he says.

She kisses him deeply, his hands search her body.

They start the familiar dance. She’s on top. This time more urgent. He climbs on top of her, eye to eye, forehead to forehead. She grinds her hips into him.

“Fuck me from behind,” she demands. His eyes widen. He obliges. His face is blank, hungry.

[1] Sim lives and works on the Smith ranch with Walt and Marion, introduced in Keeping fences mended here.

[2] Claire and Sim established their friendship in Just Friends here.

[3] Will met with Tom at Yellowstone Club, where Carrie served them lunch, in Family Strategy here.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Where you’re from.

April 13, 2025 — Big Sky, Montana

Tom arrives at Bozeman/Yellowstone Airport. The Sunday commute home is starting to get going. The Douglas Fir beams welcome him. He comes through often. Clients, fishing, family trips. The rental car is waiting for him. He’s on the road quickly.

The drive along the Gallatin is uneventful. He cruises between the limestone and granite walls. The river is wide and heavy with spring runoff. He glances out the window at a few spots for good fishing access another time.

Traffic along the two lane highway comes to a dead stop around Table Mountain. A herd of Bighorn crossing, lazily stopping to lick the pavement. A few lambs trail behind them. “Fucking sheep,” Tom grumbles.

He arrives at the Warren Miller lodge around noon. Tired already from travel. The staff take him to Will’s table. His brother is in a dress shirt and chinos, quarter zip sweater, suede loafers. He’s sipping a sparkling water. “Nice of you to make it,” he says.

“Nine hours of travel for a one-hour lunch? This could have been a phone call,” says Tom.

“What and miss quality time with your brother?”

“Cute.”

“Sit down. Relax. Let’s have a nice lunch.”

The dining room is big and open. White and grey. Frosted glass lanterns on the columns. There’s a two-level chandelier placed high on the vaulted ceiling.

“What are you doing in town?”

“Raising Fund Ten. Roadshow starts tomorrow.”

“Don’t you have people to do that for you now?”

“Yes but this is my favorite part. I show up, turn on the charm, take some coffees. Maybe a dinner or two.”

“Nice work if you can get it.”

“Hey my LPs still have my balls in a vice if we don’t return enough. You know the deal.” Will takes a sip of his drink.

“Better than the CEO and board members. I hoped SVP meant one boss. They own my ass now. Even more than before the promotion. You’re lucky I could get away.”

“We could have rescheduled.”

“Nah. Coleman comes from money; he understands family business. Plus it’s Sunday. I’ll be back for excomm tomorrow morning.”

Under the chandelier is a round table with twelve chairs. Dead center of the room. Some bigshots are sitting there. Billionaires Tom has never heard of.

“We’ve all got people to answer to, little brother. Until we play this deal right.”

“Amen to that,” Tom says.

“You gentlemen ready to order?” The server is in her late twenties or early thirties. Dark hair. Tall and pretty in the way you’d expect in a place like this.

“I’ll take an Arnold Palmer and more time with the menu,” Tom grumbles.

Will’s voice is honeyed, deep. “I’ll have the smoked trout salad. He’ll have the same. Thank you, Carrie.” He takes both menus and hands them to her. Smiles as she turns and heads back toward her station.

“She’s a looker, ain’t she?” says Tom. “Maybe I wanted a steak.”

“Behave,” Will says. “Trying to get you home tonight without you getting in anymore trouble with Courtney.”

“She does give me shit about my cholesterol.” Tom takes a moment to watch Carrie. Turns back to Will. “So we’re both trying to break free from asking rich people for money by converting the family ranch into properties for rich people?”

Will chuckles. “Well sure. But we’ll be principals, not agents. LPs will be co-invested with us. Let them call Chase if they’re not happy.” He takes a long breath and sips his water. “And this country runs on rich people’s money. You know that. Consumer spending is like two thirds of US GDP. The top ten percent of wealth holders spend half of that.”

“That’s jobs. I guess I deserve another tax cut. Greedy bastards.”

“Wealth is even more skewed. Top one percent own around thirty percent of assets? If you have the God-given ability to help them make more while taking a share for yourself, the world is your oyster.”

“I know how private equity works, Will. You don’t have to give me this speech.”

“My point is, a giant pile of money depends on very rich people having 4.2 houses in appealing places, not just two or three. We’re going to get our share of it.”

Carrie returns with their dishes. She and Will exchange smiles, eyes locked. “Thank you,” Tom says impatiently. She departs.

“OK. Fine,” Will continues. “So Bobby and Kate. How are we going to get to yes?”

“Kate’s no fool. She doesn’t want to run a ranch. She can read a balance sheet. But she can make this really hurt. We want her at clear yes. That means we have to get Bobby.”

“I don’t think he liked the ranch manager offer[1].”

“Yeah, maybe I should have run that by Kate first. He was a little offended.”

“Kate brings up a good point[1]. He needs more cash to get those kids through college. I’m sure it’s strain with Savannah already. UC Boulder isn’t cheap. Can’t imagine how he’s going to swing two. We could offer to mostly buy him out, maybe a couple of points so he still feels like a partner.”

“That makes logical sense. But you know Bobby. He ain’t logical about this. It’s his heart more than his head.”

“I know.”

“We’re probably going to have to find some leverage that doesn’t look bad to Kate.”

“I have a theory,” says Will.

“Do tell.”

“I think the present situation is hard on Claire. She seemed more guarded and nervous than the last time we saw them. I think there may be something up with Bobby that we don’t know. Maybe she can push him gently to the right decision for us. I’ll look into it.”

“Interesting. You need anything from me?”

“Just turn off that fake Texas shitkicker bravado when you’re around them. This is a family affair, not just business.”

“Hey fuck you, Will.”

Will smiles.

“How do you think Dad would have handled this situation?” Tom asks.

“He would have found a way. He understood ownership and control. Never shied away from progress if it was good for his family and community. Why he ended up spending so much time in Washington.”

“Yeah. He knew caution meant decay. Didn’t shy from risk.”

“Exactly. Look at this place. Timber land until the 1990s. Attached to Big Sky. High cost of entry. It was an insane idea. Went completely bust in the financial crisis. Now worth more than ever. The only hedge against losing your capital is more capital.”

“Yeah I don’t want our thing to go bust.”

“Nobody does. But it’s the price you pay for uncapped upside. And the real value here is the social capital. You buy in to meet people who will help you make even more money. That’s what we need. Over the long run, that land can offer power that moves us up a level, and future generations of Colters.”

“You trust Chase?”

“He has the experience and network, but not so big we can’t lean on him if we need to. He’s made a lot of people a lot of money over the years. Daddy was a big shot in the state. He’s got the best partners lined up to do the actual development.”

“Yeah. We’ll be fine taking the risk. Kate too. Bobby’s only worth the land, though. Makes sense for him to be cautious.” Tom takes a long pause. “BATNA?”

“The ranch fails in eighteen months[2]. We start liquidating. Dam the torpedoes for lawsuits from both Kate and Bobby. A fucking mess. Acrimony that will make Mom and Dad turn in their graves. We have to handle this at the negotiating table.”

“Agreed.”

“So you talk to Chase and Merry about Bobby’s end[1]? I’m good with whatever mix and terms you decide. You’ve done more of these than I have. Run it by Kate this time before we talk with Bobby again. I’ll reach out to Claire when I have a plan figured out.”

“Sounds good,” Tom says. “Now where’s that little waitress?”

“Tommy, you’re being disgusting. Call your wife from the airport.”

[1] Chase and Merry presented Colter Reserve, Bobby’s ranch manager offer, and Kate’s cash vs equity concerns in Price of belonging here.

[2] Will warned Bobby about the 18-month timeline in Cold wind, hot steel here.

[3] The siblings gathered at the ranch in Who stays, who goes here.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Joy and pain.

April 13, 2025 — Jackson, Wyoming

It’s dry in the hotel room. Dust visible in the air as the morning sunlight streams between the curtains. Sim stirs on the couch. She sits up. Rubs her temples. Fumbles around the room for a bottle of water. She finds it. Cracks the seal and drinks the bottle down. Breathes in heavily.

She sits on the couch and stares at the wall. Long bare legs and shoulders. She takes a few quiet breaths and picks up her phone.

Claire steps out of the bedroom into the suite, fully dressed and made up. “Have breakfast with me,” she says.

Sim looks up at her. She stands up and pulls on her jeans in one smooth motion. “Hey... last night. I’m sorry. I felt a spark. Maybe I misread. I know you’re married.”

Claire meets her eyes. “No. You didn’t misread anything. I... I just can’t. I have a family.”

“I know. Blame it on the whiskey. Maybe that night in the Cowboy Bar gave me the wrong idea.” Eyes meet again. It’s quiet.

“No. It’s not that. It’s you, Sim. There’s a feeling. This is all new to me. But I can’t take it any further.” Claire’s voice is firmer now.

Sim smiles, then goes back to dressing. “I get it. Listen, I’ll take off. Maybe I’ll see you next time you’re in town?”

Claire touches the other woman’s bare shoulder. Eyes meet again. Her voice is quieter. “Have breakfast with me. I could really use a friend right now. Somebody who doesn’t have an opinion on my life or the decisions I’ve made. Am making.”

They stare into each other’s eyes for long, silent beat.

“I’d love that. Let me finish getting dressed.”

Sim goes into the bathroom to straighten up. She looks in the mirror. Eyes wide open, mouth straight. She straightens up a section of her hair, then ties a bandanna back into place. This one is a Wyoming Flag. She washes her face and dries it with a fresh hand towel. She whispers to herself, “the fuck are you doing with this married white lady?”

When she walks back to the living room area, Claire is sitting on the couch, back straight. “You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

***

Sim and Claire sit at one of the tables at Porch. The sun is up over the hills now, shining in through the windows onto the whitewashed walls. They are caffeinated. Wide smiles and easy conversation now.

Claire leans forward. “She’s my oldest friend. I love her dearly. But there’s been a distance ever since I married Bobby. Like that’s a subject that’s off limits now. She makes me feel like it’s the bed I made. I have to lie in it.”

“Mmm,” Sim says. “That has to be tough. You need to be able to talk about your marriage with your best friend.”

“Exactly,” Claire says, a little louder than expected. “She warned me about marrying into Bobby’s family. But I still need her even if I didn’t agree with her.”

“Yeah. That’s tough.”

“But she always takes my call. She’s always there for me. It’s just things get left unsaid. It puts a distance between us that doesn’t feel right.”

“No. You’re right, Claire. You need that. You deserve that closeness. Maybe you can get back there over time?”

“Enough about me. So you said you’re moving to Lander this summer? How is that going? Where will you live?”

“I’m going to live with my ex and her girlfriend, then I’ll move into NOLS housing after a few weeks. We stay at an old hotel they use while we’re in town, but honestly most of my time I’ll be guiding on the ranch.”

“Wow. So you and your ex really get along.”

“Yeah. Wyoming lesbians are a small community. You can’t afford to lose friends over a breakup.” Sim picks at her croissant.

“How long were you together?”

“Several years. Started while we were both NOLS instructors. That’s an environment where two women ARE allowed to guide a group. The kids don’t overthink it.”

Claire takes a sip of her coffee. “What happened? Why did you split up?”

“We just kind of grew apart. Working together, we were fine. The backcountry was our spot. After we lived together though, we fought over small, silly things. Over time, we started avoiding each other around the house. The intimacy fell away. I started feeling like she was a roommate without proper boundaries. Then we each cheated. It was a mess.”

“Wow. But you’re good now?”

“Yeah. It’s like, once we broke up, all the pressure and ambiguity was gone. We could just be friends. We have this close connection and familiarity, but we never use it to hurt each other anymore. I’m probably not making any sense.”

“No. That sounds really familiar, Sim. You’re with somebody for a long time. Your roles and how you interact change. There’s a closeness that you can’t let go of, even if that initial intimacy is gone. You have so much shared experience. So much life together.”

“Yeah, that’s basically it. I’ve known Casey for nearly a decade. I can’t imagine her not being in my life. I’m genuinely excited to go stay with her and Autumn for a few weeks.”

Mario shows up at the table with a carafe, looks at Claire. “Black coffee, right? Can I warm you up?” He’s in his canvas apron, old henley under a flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves. Black watch cap.

“Please,” Claire replies, “I’m feeling human again already.”

“Mario, this is Claire. She’s a friend.” Both women stand to greet him.

Mario smiles warmly under his bushy mustache. “So nice to meet you, Claire.”

“My pleasure,” Claire says.

“Claire,” Sim continues, “Mario is an old friend. He’s married to Dani. They’re my best friends here in Jackson.”

“Oh, I’m so happy to get to meet you. Would love to meet your wife some time,” Claire says.

“I’d love that,” Mario says politely. “Let’s all have a coffee some time.”

“Claire Colter,” a loud voice says from across the room. Claire turns around to see Lisa Hargrove.

“I’m going to keep circulating, have a great day,” Mario says, moving on from the table.

Lisa walks over. “I thought that was you! What are you doing in Jackson?”

“Art opening,” Claire replies. Flat enough to be obvious, not enough to be rude. “How about you?”

“Oh- as you know I grew up here,” her face is smiling tightly. “My parents are getting old. I come back every few weekends to check on Dad and see if Mom needs help.”

“Good for you. Well, it’s so nice to see you here.”

“We need to meet again on the Nic.”

“You’re right. I’ve been meaning to reach out.”

Sim, still standing, scans the room, fiddles with her jacket on the back of the chair.

“Who is this?” Lisa asks, smiling tightly.

“This is my friend Simone. She’s a local guide here in Jackson.”

Lisa shakes Sim’s hand. “Oh my goodness. I didn’t know you have such young, adventurous friends. I love those earrings.”

“That’s so sweet,” Sim says. She tries not to make the turquoise and silver trim earrings swing. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A long moment passes. “Well, Lisa, we were just having breakfast. I’ll catch up again with you soon.”

“OK, sounds good. Bye, Claire!” She walks back to her table.

“Who was that?” Sim asks, Lisa out of earshot.

“Woman I know from Casper, it’s complicated.”

“You OK?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Family strategy.

Wild As Her is being published here in serial form. Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. The previous post is Small and mighty.

April 12, 2025 — Silver Dollar Bar in the Wort Hotel, Jackson

Sim arrives at the Silver Dollar Bar. She sees Claire at one of the tables. Claire smiles and signals her over.

In 1940, John and Jess Wort, flush after selling their Signal Mountain Lodge inside Grand Teton National Park, decided to transform a livery stable they owned downtown into a luxury hotel that appealed to the midcentury traveler looking for the old west.

They added the bar in 1950, hiring a German cabinetmaker to carve the snaking black walnut top with over 2000 inlaid 1921 Morgan Silver Dollars. The rest of the room is built around this bar. Wooden stools with red leather tops. Cattle brand designs in the paneling.

Sim crosses the room tall and straight. Earrings swinging side to side as she steps. A middle-aged man in a Simms shirt turns from the bar to look at her as she walks past.

She throws her coat on one of the empty chairs. She gives Claire a small smile and a “Hi there” as she sits down. Eyes meet.

“So glad to see you again,” Claire says. She sips her drink. “What are you having?” She waves for the server.

“Wyoming Whiskey. Good to see you again. To be honest, I didn’t expect your text.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I meet a lot of pretty ranchers’ wives here for bachelorette parties, then they never call me again,” Sim grins.

Claire’s jaw tightens, a half smile. “I ... don’t...”

“I’m teasing you Claire, relax.”

“Oh. OK,” she smiles back at Sim. Her shoulders relax.

“So what have you been up to? How’s the ranch?”

“Newborn cows, getting irrigation ready for spring,” Claire says. “Then a little bit of family drama, you know.”

“Yeah, no shortage of work, I imagine. Sorry to hear about family drama. What brings you to Jackson this weekend?”

“Oh! I saw this wonderful exhibit at the Wildlife Arts Museum.”

“You traveled here through snow and wind for an art show?”

“It’s not just that. I’m on the board there. I try to make it out for every opening.”

“Oh. Boss lady on the board of the fancy art museum. I’m impressed. Did you fly in or drive?”

“Definitely drove. I’m probably the poorest person in the room there. Ranching is not a high profit business these days. My family and Bobby’s go back in Wyoming though. Friends and family write the checks. I just attend the meetings, share my opinions, coordinate support.”

“That’s so awesome. You mentioned your kids are older? Is this the type of thing you want to do more of?”

“Yeah. I’ve always tried to be involved in the community. Kind of how I was raised.”

“Where was that?”

“Cody.”

“That place has changed since then, I imagine.”

“Not like here. But yeah you get more retirees. Tech folks working remotely. Second homeowners.”

“I’ve been there plenty of times. Such a gorgeous approach to the park.”

“Oh, I just met someone who reminds me a little of you. Maya Chen. She was the photographer at the exhibit tonight. Lives in Dubois?”

“Oh I know Maya! From before. We guided the Grand a few times together. Worked for the same outfitter years ago. They usually wouldn’t let us work together; scared the guests wouldn’t be comfortable with two women guiding them.”

“That’s terrible.”

Sim shrugs her shoulders. “Probably not wrong about the attitudes of the customers, but yeah, it’s a drag. It’s a boys club. Maybe getting a little better. Time will tell.”

A long silence. Sim shifts in her seat. Claire takes another sip of her drink. Eyes still locked.

“She takes incredible photos of mustil... weasels and wolverines and related critters. Some incredible photos.”

“I bet. She was always up for a sufferfest. I bet she loves sitting still in the freezing rain for hours on end.”

The room is warm and loud. They shed layers. Order more drinks. Claire leans in. Voice lower. “So do you date other guides? I bet you’ve had some rugged, handsome boyfriends.”

A long pause. Sim kind of half smiles. “Yeeeees. I have dated other guides in the past. But women. I’ve only ever dated women.”

Claire inhales sharply, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Sim laughs, touches her hand across the table. “No. Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know. I’m not offended, Claire.” Eyes meet again. “I had a long-term girlfriend but we broke up. I’ve dated a bit. My ex lives in Lander. We’re still close friends.”

“I don’t know where my manners went. Must be the whiskey.”

Sim touches her hand again, gently. “Let them go. We’re having fun, Claire. Be yourself.”

Another drink or two in. Chairs are pushed back. Both women slouching back, talking loudly and smiling.

“I wanted to teach school, but got pregnant during my first year in the classroom and never went back,” Claire says.

“What grade?”

“Elementary. I love kids that age. So curious. My mom’s generation thought little kids were monsters to be sternly tamed. But the more we learn, the more sympathy we should have for them. Learning to control a wiggly little body is hard. Emotional control is impossible at that age. Growing physically and mentally takes so much energy.”

“You sound like you would be a perfect teacher,” Sim says. “The world needs you to do that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I feel like it’s too late now.”

“Are you kidding? Your kids are almost grown. This is the perfect time to get recertified!”

Claire smiles and shifts in her chair. “If I recall, your parents are teachers[1]? That’s so kind of you to say.”

They both chuckle, but Claire pulls back, shifts her eyes. Then looks back at Sim.

Sim takes another swig. Ice clangs back down in the empty glass. A long, open silence passes.

“This has got to be a nice place to meet other young people though, right?” Claire asks.

Sim looks at the other woman’s face, then down at her glass. “Sure. Plenty of girls in town looking for an old west fling. Not a great place to settle down and be boring.”

“I can’t imagine you boring,” Claire smiles slightly. She takes another sip.

Sim continues. “You know what I mean, though, right? Someone who really sees you and wants whatever that is? Your person?”

Long pause, then Sim continues, “I’m sure you have that with your husband, right?”

“It’s complicated,” Claire admits. “You make a life, you raise kids. It’s great. But not always perfect.”

Sim asks Claire about her life on the ranch. Growing up in Wyoming. They swap ranch in winter stories[2]. Time slows down at the table.

More whiskeys. Claire bumps her bottom lip swinging her glass to her face, a little bit of her drink spills onto her shirt. “Fucking shit balls,” she mutters, giggling.

“Claire Colter! How dare you!” Sim mock shouts, wide eyed. They both laugh loudly.

Another hour passes. They are both drinking water now. Talking and laughing.

Claire is slurring. “… Garrett was eating the eggs. Raw. In the henhouse. One of his ridiculous cousins told him body builders did it. Ten-year-old boys.” Both women laugh loudly.

“That sounds like my brother,” Sim adds.

***

The Silver Dollar Bar hosted illegal gambling in the middle of the last century. Poker, blackjack, roulette, craps. The entire town came together there. Cowboys, gamblers, politicians, businessmen.

A weathered country voice fills the room, deep but feminine.[3] Pedal steel bends behind it. Claire shifts her gaze off into the distance. “Mmmm. I love this song.”

Sim’s eyes get big. She smiles at Claire. “Girl, are you kidding? I love this album.” Both women stop talking and sway slowly to the song. Claire hums softly. Sim touches her hand again. Claire smiles.

After a beat, the song ends. Claire pulls away.

“It’s past midnight already?” Claire asks.

“Oh. I’ve got to get going,” Sim says.

“You don’t have a place downtown, right? You’ve had like 5 whiskeys. You can’t drive out to the ranch.”

“No. But I’ve got friends nearby. I’ll make some calls.”

“I have a couch upstairs. Why don’t you come sleep it off up there.”

“No. I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing. They put me in a junior suite. Old family connection. Plenty of space for us both.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Let me settle the bill here and we’ll head up.”

***

The hotel partially burned in 1980. Kids from the local high school hauled the bar top down the street to a bank vault for safekeeping during renovations. When the hotel reopened a year later, the original bar was there. Ready to restart the good times.

They’re in the elevator now. Sim is in the opposite corner. Feet, shoulders and hips turned toward Claire. Warm smile on her face. She avoids eye contact as Claire fumbles to swipe her card and press the right button for her floor.

Claire smiles at Sim and meets her eyes. Both women are silent.

Claire exits the elevator first. Walks down the hall. One tiny extra step every five or six. Sim smiles, watching her from behind. Tailored dark wash jeans. Blazer thrown over her right shoulder. Long hair shoved over her left. She’s leaning so slightly.

Claire swipes the card, pulls the door and opens wide. She waves Sim through. “Come on in.”

“Never thought I’d see the inside of one of these rooms.” Sim sits on the grey fabric sofa. She hangs her coat on the arm.

Claire moves around the suite, in and out of the bedroom opening doors. “There are extra sheets here somewhere.”

She returns to the sitting room carrying them.

“I can take care of it. Mind if I turn on the TV to fall asleep?”

“Of course not, go ahead. Let me pull these cushions and make the pull out for you though.”

“Claire. Sit down. You don’t have to take care of me like this.”

She takes off her boots, folds and straightens her jacket. Finally sits down next to Sim. Half a person’s space between them.

Sim changes the channels and lands on a western.

“I love this movie,” Claire says. “Clint Eastwood. Older Clint Eastwood. Unforgiven.”

Three Cowboys crossing a grassland on horseback. Sagebrush dotting the hills above. Something about stormclouds. The younger man doesn’t notice them. Claire is stiff backed on the couch.

“You good?” Sim asks. “I can leave. I shouldn’t keep you up.” She starts to stand up.

“No. Please stay,” Claire says slowly, quietly. She shifts in her seat, eyes still on the TV.

Sim moves a little closer. The space closes. She can hear the other woman breathing. Steadily.

Sim leans into Claire, resting her head on her shoulder.

The Cowboys talk about a hawk overhead. It’s not there, betraying the younger man’s near blindness. The young man tosses a canteen on the ground and shoots it. “We ain’t going to Wyoming to shoot canteens, Goddamnit!” the old cowboy says. The young man, who fancies himself a gunfighter, can’t see a scrub oak at a hundred yards.

Claire rests her hand on the younger woman’s knee. Sim places her hand over it.

Faces turn toward each other. Sim leans in. Claire doesn’t pull back. Sim kisses Claire, holding for a long moment, bringing her hand to Claire’s cheek, then tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Claire’s shoulders fall.

Claire kisses her deeper, eyes pressed closed. She moves her hand urgently up the other woman’s leg. Pulls her closer to her body.

Then abruptly, she pulls back.

“I can’t,” Claire whispers, then snaps back into her default posture, back straight and hands on her own knees. “I’m going to bed. Do you need an extra comforter? I think there’s one more in the closet.”

Sim’s eyes shift suddenly and then settle. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for letting me crash. Too much whiskey.”

[1] Sim discusses her background in Heat in the neon light (Part II) here.

[2] Meet Clara and Wyatt Smith, on the ranch where Sim lives in Jackson in Keeping fences mended here.

[3] Tanya Tucker’s “Bring My Flowers Now.”

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up: Start here: A Guide to Wild As Her. Or read the next post Just friends.

April 12, 2025 — National Museum of Wildlife Art, Jackson

Claire wanders the exhibit, looking at weasels. Brown in summer, white in winter. Then a wolverine. Black splotches on a brown-bordering-on-ginger field. Like a little bear. Teeth showing. Face turned directly to the camera.

Then another, bigger, weasely-looking animal in a dense green forest. She stares. Feels a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turns.

The museum clings to a butte overlooking the National Elk Refuge. Like so many things in this part of the west, the refuge is the project of rich, well-intentioned busybodies from generations past.

Development had cut off wildlife migrations, particularly elk, to their winter ranges, causing mass die-offs. The refuge reversed this by coming into being through acts of congress, gifts of land, tons of cash.

A winding paved road takes visitors through the refuge, past old homesteads. Where the pavement ends, a series of dusty gravel roads continues for dozens of miles. ORV enthusiasts wear bandannas and goggles to skitter up and down them in the summer, leaving clouds behind them like wake.

The rough-hewn block stone building has large windows opening up to The Terrace. In summer months, it hosts white tablecloth dinners. This time of year, where the days are long but cold, the windows catch the sun to the west, starting to make its way slowly down to the Southern Teton peaks. It’s almost angry now, shining directly into the windows, ample snow still in the shaded crags. The heavy wind is done for the day. Valley feels still.

“Claire, it’s so good to see you,” Rebecca says. They embrace, but the older woman grasps her forearms to keep a professional distance between bodies.

“Becky. Oh this is so wonderful. Not sure what I was expecting, but you’ve exceeded expectations again. Look at this crowd!”

“Maya has an absolute gift for mustelids. She’s already captured several once-in-a-career photos. We’re very enthusiastic about her.”

“Now I recognize the wolverine and the weasels here, but this one is a head scratcher.”

“Oh, that’s a fisher, like a marten. Both part of Pekania/Martes. She captured this one up in Washington State. In the rainy season. You’ve got to hear the story behind it. She’s around the corner, I’d love to make an introduction.”

“Don’t bother her yet, I’ll make my way over there.”

“Of course.”

“You get back to your guests, Becky. I’m going to wander and take it all in.”

“Thanks for coming, Claire. I know it’s a haul from Casper.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Now go find more donors.” She touches Becky’s shoulder, smiling.

Rebecca smiles. Takes in the room, then moves toward a small group of older patrons.

Another wolverine. This time in the snow. Angry little face. Shoulders up. Hackles standing. Focusing carefully, she can see the individual hairs, almost like they are undulating in the still photo.

A small weasel, half tail. Long, lithe, muscular. Almost a saddle tan with whitish but bright yellow belly. Deep brown face with a square white patch. He’s leaning to the right, paws on a sun-greyed snag. He’s got a charming little sideways V notch in his left ear. Wet, brown teddy bear nose. Claire reaches for the photograph. Pauses and smiles. Almost laughs.

The next photo is the winter version of the same animal. It’s white and patterned head is poking out of a snowdrift like a little periscope.

Claire walks around the corner. She sees the photographer with a gaggle of patrons, as well as Rebecca. She turns her back and looks at another photo.

This one is an impossibly small weasel. Maybe hand size. Summer coat. Chestnut brown fur with bright white belly. White as the veneers favored by local billionaires in retirement.

He’s short-haired but almost fluffy-looking. Must be so soft. Hiding in sagebrush at the foot of a boulder. His little head pokes up.

“Oh, Claire, come meet Maya,” Rebecca’s voice carries naturally, elegantly.

Claire turns and smiles. Walks over to the group and shakes the small Asian woman’s hand. She’s wearing a worn and patched technical jacket over a flannel shirt. “Claire Colter, so pleased to meet you.”

“Maya Chen,” the woman says, smiling.

Rebecca continues, “Claire is part of our incredible board here at the Museum. Maya is the artist for this exhibit. We’re so proud of her. We think she’s going to be a big success.”

“We’ll see,” Maya says. “Would be nice to take fewer pick-up-shifts at the Cowboy Cafe.”

Rebecca chuckles politely.

“Where is that?” Claire asks.

“Dubois,” Maya says, taking a step closer, shoulders shifted toward Claire.

“Oh, Whiskey Basin nearby?”

“That’s right,” Maya confirms enthusiastically. “I started off shooting there. Landscapes, sunset, then antelope. But I fell in love with mustelids. Small and mighty. They don’t take any shit. Get it done.”

Claire’s eyes rest on the other woman’s face. Her hair is deep black. Worn in from the weather. Gentle waves. Maya smiles again.

After a long pause, Claire responds with a half-startle, “That’s really interesting. What did you do before photography?”

“I was a mountain guide. I had an accident though. Lost half a season’s income. Had to move and figure something else out. Fingers crossed,” she says, turning to look at Rebecca.

“We’re gonna make this happen,” Rebecca says. “No more cafe shifts.” She points subtly at a well-dressed patron and leaves the two women talking.

“How long does it take to get one of these images?”

“You never know, honestly. My longest time in a hide was 15 days. Even then you have to get lucky.”

“Wow. That sounds rough.”

“I’m used to discomfort. A lot of us make the transition from adventure to photography. Staying still in a hide is nowhere near as miserable as pooping in a plastic bag from a porta-ledge.”

Claire laughs and covers her mouth with a hand. Maya grins and winks. “Becky asked me to behave. Sorry if that was crude.”

“Not at all. Do you have any idea how much shit I deal with on a working ranch?”

As the women continue their conversation, Claire’s finger touches the folded business card in her coat pocket. She’d been ignoring it since that afternoon shooting clays.[1]

It’s still bright outside, but the sun is close to the peaks now. Already getting colder. Claire starts the SUV and pauses to let the cabin warm up. She blows into her hands.

After a long pause, she hammers out a text message:

> Hi Simone, this is Claire. We met at the Cowboy Bar the other day. Remember? Then at the coffee shop.

She pauses. Sends.

After a long pause, the dots appear. Then a reply.

> hi Claire! Of course I remember you. How are you?

Claire inhales audibly, then exhales. Eyes still on screen. Her thumbs hover for another moment, then type.

> I’m actually in Jackson. I’m sure you have plans, but if not, care to grab a drink?

[1] Claire’s husband and his siblings talk ranch business and shoot sporting clays in Cold Wind, Hot Steel here.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar is referenced fictitiously and is not associated with or responsible for any depiction in this work.

Wild As Her is a Wyoming romance of middle-age awakening. Catch up from the beginning: Perfect on Paper here.