It had been fifteen months since Barlow had given Martha Gilbreath a ride home after work and was blindsided by the revelation that she was only sixteen years old, several years younger than he had thought. While her age made her temporarily off limits, it did nothing to lessen his interest in her. If anything, it made her more intriguing to him. She was young but you couldn't tell that by talking to her. She was mature, intelligent and had goals. That wasn't like too many sixteen year olds he had ever met before. He maintained a platonic relationship with Martha awaiting the time she finished high school. He continued to visit the drug store weekly so he could get to know her better. But her eighteenth birthday was coming up next month on the 21st and her high school graduation was just 2 weeks after that. He had already decided that he wanted to take their relationship to the next level as soon as she graduated. He had been a very patient man but he would have Martha as his own soon.

He checked his watch. It was 2:00, the time he usually drove into town to see Martha at work. Few people were there at that time of day and he had found it was the best opportunity to have her attention all to himself for more than a few minutes at a time. There was someone sitting at the counter when he arrived. He couldn't tell who it was at first because his head was turned away from the door, but there was no mistaking Martha's body language. She was leaning one elbow on the counter holding her chin in her hand. Her head was tilted slightly to the side and she was smiling. The sparkle in her eyes as she looked at the male sitting in front of her was like a punch in his gut. Jealousy flooded his entire body and he tensed, ready to knock whoever it was right off the stool. How dare the guy flirt with his girl and was she actually flirting back? He steeled himself and slowly walked to the stool next to the seated man. Martha straightened and looked over at him, "Hello Barlow."

"Good afternoon."

"Barlow, do you know Walt? He graduated from Durant two years ago and is home on spring break from USC."

Walt. So that's the bastard's name. Barlow looked him in the eye as the boy turned and spoke, "Mr. Connally and I have met. Hello sir." He stood and extended his hand.

It took a minute for Barlow to realize who he was looking at. It was Walter Longmire. The boy's face had changed since he'd seen him last. In fact, he looked much less like a boy than Barlow remembered. He took a deep breath, "Yes. It's been a while Walt." Barlow shook his hand and Walt returned to the stool. Barlow had first seen Walter Longmire when he started coming with his father to shoe the Connally horses. He had just turned five but he was the most steady five year old Barlow or his father John had ever seen. He was quiet and calm, helping Mr. Longmire with the things he could. Barlow had been 19 at the time. Over the years he had grown more than a little irritated at overhearing his father tell his mother so often what a great kid Walt Longmire was. By the time Walt was a teenager, Barlow had relented to his father's constant urging to offer Walt a job. It was one of the few concessions he had made in his adult years. He knew it would be the only way to get his father to stop talking about how wonderful Walt was. So, Barlow had asked Walt to come work for them and the boy actually had the nerve to turn him down. Barlow had heard Walt had gotten a scholarship to play college football and could not say he was sad to see him leave Durant. Now there he was talking to Barlow's girl. Who did that boy think he was anyway?

"Would you like a soda Barlow?"

Martha's voice pulled him from his ruminations back to the present.

"Ah, not today. I have somewhere to be."

"Oh, okay. Have a nice afternoon." She crossed her arms and went back to leaning forward on the counter in front of Longmire without another glance in Barlow's direction.

Barlow went out to his truck and drove around the block returning to park further back where it would not be so visible through the drugstore window. He sat there until closing when he watched Walt and Martha leave the store together and walk off down the street. They had only gone about a block when Martha hooked her hand through Walt's arm and stepped in closer to him. Barlow's jaw clenched tightly. He had never felt so betrayed or so angry.

Barlow spent that night lying awake in his bed, a bed he had planned to eventually share with Martha. How could she do this to him? Had he waited for her all this time only to lose her when they were so close to being together. His chest ached thinking about her with someone else. Well, he wasn't going to give up that easily. He would make sure she understood that no one walks away from Barlow Connally.