Joe smiled but not the familiar, big grin of old, but of a tight-lipped stranger.
Mandie started to pat at her wayward hair strands, but stopped when she realized. No need to fuss around Joe, who'd she'd known all her life. "Why…where…how did you get here?"
"I'll leave it a mystery, or have you already found one to occupy you?" His brown eyes twinkled.
"Mysteries find me, but none this time."
"That little troublemaker of yours hasn't run off somewhere then?"
Mandie stomped her foot. "Joe Woodard, leave Snowball alone. He's helped solve mysteries."
"But can he help you with my mysterious appearance?"
"He just might." The teasing was like old times, and she realized how much she'd missed Joe these past, few years.
"I have news." Joe drew closer and moved as if to grab her hands. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets. "I have enough experience and money saved now to put up my own shingle."
"Really? I'm so proud of you."
Joe scuffed the dirt with his foot and rubbed the back of his neck. He still didn't like compliments, Mandie noticed with amusement.
"Are you still planning on working here in Charley Gap?" She'd be able to see him more often then. She could stay at her father's house and visit him and her Cherokee friends as well. It would almost be like old times.
He shrugged. His gaze flicked to her face then away. "Depends. I was about to look for flowers for your father's grave, but maybe you'd like to be alone?"
So formal and stiff. Mandie responded in kind. "Thank you, that's thoughtful, but I wouldn't mind company."
They were silent as they moved about the cemetery, gathering golden asters and violets. Mandie snuck peeks at him while they picked. Joe looked tanner and broader of shoulders. He still had a quick, long stride, but his unassuming ease was replaced with jerky motion.
Was there something he wasn't telling her? Mandie resisted the urge to ask, but tried to catch his eye. With no success.
They picked more than enough flowers, neither one wanting to stop it seemed. At last, Joe came up to her and deposited his batch into her arms. A dozen or so buds dropped about her feet.
Back near the grave, Mandie made a large bouquet and set it near the headstone. The marker read "James Alexander Shaw; Born April 3 1863; Died April 13, 1900." Terse, leaving so much unsaid. If only he were still alive. Maybe he could have helped her understand her restlessness.
Mandie fell to her knees and sobbed.
"I miss you so much, Daddy. I wish I could see you again."
Joe put an arm around her and rested his cheek on top of her head.
"I love you, Daddy."
"He knows." Joe held her tighter against his side. "He knows."