At first I was so startled that I didn't say anything at all. The person in front of me in line moved up a little, and
so I pushed my grocery cart forward a bit, too, trying to collect my thoughts.
"It's been a long time," Seth said. "Since I've seen you, I mean."
I realized that I was just sort of gaping at him, and I said, "Yeah. It's been awhile."
We stood there in the line, and he said, "How have you been?"
"Fine," I said. I turned my back to him a little, wishing he would go away. But, since he had cigarettes in one hand, and some
beef jerky in the other, it was obvious that he was waiting to be checked out.
I kept my back to him, hoping he wouldn't talk to me anymore.
Linda Marsh rang up the stuff from my cart, and I handed her the money that Hannah had given me.
"Daniel's home this summer, huh?" she asked me.
"Uh huh," I said, conscious of Seth standing right behind me, listening.
"That's cool. I'd heard that he was. I haven't seen him yet, though," she went on.
I had to sigh a little. Yet another girl who had the hots for Daniel.
"Is he going to be coming to the street dance next week, do you think?" she asked me then.
"Um, I don't know," I said, as she handed me back my change.
Finally I was done, and I lifted the two grocery bags, and hooked the jug of milk over one of my fingers.
"I'll help you," Seth said.
"I've got it," I said, and made my escape out the heavy wooden doors.
I had gotten nearly to my truck by the time Seth caught up with me. As I was struggling to open my
door without dropping one of the grocery bags, he said, "Here. I'll help you," and took one of the bags out of my arm.
I opened the door then, and shoved one bag in, and set the milk in the seat.
"I've got it," I said, taking the other sack from him, and setting it in the seat. I quickly moved to get into the truck,
settling behind the steering wheel. I put my hand on the door handle to pull the door closed, except that he was standing
there, right in the way.
"I've got to be going," I said.
"You know what?" he asked, as if I hadn't spoken at all. "The sheriff came to pay me a visit a few days ago. It seems
as though somebody thought I was messing around up on your place. At your cabin, or something."
I tried to meet his gaze without flinching. In doing so, I saw that he had lost some weight, and gained some muscle.
"Really?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Yeah. I told him that was just bullshit. I haven't been anywhere near your ranch since last fall."
I didn't know what to say, and while I was trying to search for the right thing to answer, he went on.
"How about that?" he asked. "Pretty strange, huh?"
"Yeah," I said, and I couldn't help it, I had to look away from his piercing gaze.
He took a step closer to the cab of the truck, so that he was standing near enough that his knee was touching
my leg. "I've got a good job now," he said. "Working at the lumberyard."
"That's good," I said.
"Yeah." Then, just as suddenly as that, he returned to the subject. "I wonder why somebody would think I was
up there, at your cabin like that," he went on. "I mean, if I wanted to trespass somewhere, it could be better
than a broken-floored line shack, you know?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to slow down my breathing.
"You suppose we could get together some time?" he asked. His voice was polite enough, but by now I could feel myself trembling.
"I've got to go," I said, in answer, and gave a tug on the door handle. Enough to dislodge him a bit.
"Okay. I hope I see you again," he said, and then leaned forward just a little, so that his face was a lot closer to mine. "Real soon."
He stepped away, and I was able to close the door.
"Hey, how's Guthrie?" he asked me then.
I tried to meet his eyes, full on. Messing with me was one thing. But if he was thinking about starting something with
Guthrie, well, that got my dander up.
"Guthrie's fine," I said evenly.
"That's good. Maybe I'll see him around too, sometime."
"You leave Guthrie alone," I said fiercely.
Seth managed to look startled, and then he smiled easily. "I wasn't meanin' anything bad, Harlie. I was hoping that
Guthrie and I might be able to smooth things over between us. That's all."
He sounded so believable that I studied him for a minute. Then he smiled, and sort of pushed himself
off of my truck.
"Bye, pretty girl," he said.
Well, I put the truck in reverse and backed out of the grocery store parking lot, and when I looked in the rearview
mirror, Seth was still standing there, watching me drive away.
7
As I drove slowly thru town, I saw Ford's blond head, standing in front of the café, where he was talking to Marie.
He stepped off the sidewalk and flagged me down.
"Hey," he greeted me. "I've been waitin' for you to drive by."
"What? Why?" I asked, confused.
"I need a ride home," he said. "When I called, Hannah said you were in town."
"Oh. Yeah," I said, feeling sort of disconnected by my conversation with Seth.
"What's wrong with you?" Ford asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"Hi, sweetheart!" Marie called from where she stood on the sidewalk.
"Hi, Marie," I called back.
"Come in and have some lunch," she said.
"Do you want to?" Ford asked me.
"I told Hannah I'd be home by lunch," I said.
"We can call and let 'em know," he said. "The special today is fried chicken."
"Okay," I said. "If you want to."
"Park the truck," he said.
When I'd done that, Marie had already gone into the café, and Ford was still waiting on the sidewalk for me.
"Oh, the milk," I remembered.
"Huh?" he asked.
"The milk. We better take it in or it'll get too hot in the sun," I told him.
"I'll get it," he said, and went to the truck to retrieve the jug of milk.
"One jug of milk?" he said, as he rejoined me. "That's not gonna last long with the McFadden bunch."
"That's all Hannah said to get," I told him.
"Okay." He paused, looking down at me. "What wrong?" he asked again.
I shook my head at him a little. "Nothing."
"Not true," he denied. "You're white as a sheet."
"I guess I need some more sun," I said, lightly.
"Har. Come on. What is it?" he asked.
I was considering how to say it, when Marie came to the door of the café. "Come in, you two. I've got two specials
dished up for you."
As we went inside, Ford ushered me in ahead of him. "We'll talk in a minute," he said, low, and went to the pay phone to call
home and tell them we were eating in town.
Marie put the milk in the café refrigerator, and served us up both full plates of fried chicken, and corn, and mashed potatoes. She
sat down with us while we ate, and our conversation consisted mostly of how Ford had finished up his freshman year at college.
I was quiet, letting them talk. I knew Marie loved all of us kids, and she hadn't had much opportunity to talk with Ford
since he'd been home for the summer.
She left our booth to go wait on more customers, coming in for the lunch crowd. When she returned to fill our glasses with
tea, I asked her where Kristin was.
"She wasn't able to come in," Marie said. "Her mom wasn't feeling well."
"Do you need help?" I asked. "I can fill in, probably, if I call home first."
"You're sweet," she said, pinching my cheek. "But I've called Rhonda. She'll be here shortly."
As she bustled away, I pushed my half-eaten plate towards Ford. "Want the rest of my chicken?" I offered.
"You sure?" he asked.
"Yes. Go on."
He took my last piece of chicken, and I sat back, quiet, until he said, "What's bugging you?"
"I saw Seth," I said quietly.
Ford gave me a long look, and laid the piece of chicken on his plate, wiping his hands on a napkin.
"You did? Where?" he asked.
"He was at the grocery store."
Ford read my face and he read it well, because he said, "You didn't just see him, did you? What happened? Did he
say something to you?"
"He talked to me."
"What'd he say?" Ford demanded.
"He said the sheriff came to see him, and he said that he wasn't up at the line cabin."
"Well, yeah, of course he's gonna say that," Ford said.
"He said-" I hesitated.
"He said what?"
"He said why would somebody think that he would be up there."
Ford looked thoughtful, and concerned. "Well, he's gonna deny it," he said. He sipped at his iced tea, finishing what
was left. "What else?" he asked.
"Let's just go home," I said, sliding out of the booth. "Okay?"
"I'll get the milk from Marie, and pay for lunch," Ford said.
I waited at the door, waving at Marie as Ford and I went out into the bright sunshine.
At my truck, I handed Ford the keys that I pulled out of my pocket. "You can drive," I told him.
"You really are shook," he said, looking concerned.
"Don't be silly," I said.
Once we were inside the truck cab, me in the passenger seat and Ford behind the wheel, he turned to me instead of
starting the motor right away.
"What really happened?" he asked me.
"I told you-"
"I know what you've told me. I want to know the rest. Did he threaten you?"
"No."
"Don't lie to me, Har," he said, sounding as though he meant business.
"I'm not. I wouldn't, Ford."
"Well, what then?" he asked.
"He asked about Guthrie. How he was. It scared me. It was weird. It wasn't like he meant it in a good way. You know?"
"Yeah. What else?"
I popped my knuckles in nervousness, similar to Guthrie. "This is the main thing. I know he's lying. I know that it was
him that I saw up there at the cabin."
"How?" Ford asked.
"Because of something that he said. I don't think he realized that he'd slipped and said it that way. He said, 'why would
I trespass up there, if I wanted to trespass, it would be somewhere better than a broken-floored line shack'."
Ford sat there, the muscles in the side of his jaw working in and out with tenseness. I knew he understood fully
just what Seth had revealed.
How would Seth know, unless he'd been there, that our line shack had a section of floor that was broken?
7
Ford and I rode home mostly in silence after that. Pulling into the driveway, he said, in a warning tone,
"We're telling the family."
I didn't say anything and he went on. "I know you probably don't want to, because they'll start being more
protective than ever of you, but we've got to tell them."
"Yes. I know," I said.
If Ford was surprised by my easy acquiesce, he didn't let on. He parked my truck in its usual spot, and
handed me the keys. Then he hoisted both of the bags of groceries, one in each arm, and I took the jug of milk.
As we would have walked to the house, Adam came to the door of the barn, and called out to us.
Ford and I headed over, still carrying the food, to meet him.
"How was lunch at the café?" he asked.
"Good," Ford said. "Fried chicken."
"Marie makes good fried chicken," Adam agreed.
"We need to talk to you about somethin'," Ford said.
Adam looked us both over for a long moment, and then, looking as serious as Ford and I did, he said, "Alright. Now, or
later?"
"We'll take this stuff inside," Ford said. "And then we'll come back out to talk to you."
Adam nodded, and I followed Ford as we went into the house, and to the kitchen.
We put the groceries away, and then went back out again, walking to the front porch, and down the stairs.
Adam, along with Brian and Crane, were near the picnic table in the yard. Crane and Adam were both sitting on the table, their
feet resting on the benches, and Brian stood beside it, looking agitated. Adam had gathered the troops.
"What's up?" he asked, without preamble, after Ford and I were standing there beside the table.
Ford looked at me, and I knew he was silently asking if I wanted him to talk, or do it myself. I nodded at him a little.
"Harlie saw that Seth kid," Ford said.
"Where?" Adam asked.
"At the grocery store," Ford supplied.
All of them turned their eyes upon me. "What happened?" Adam asked me.
"He started talking to me. He said the sheriff had come to talk to him about being up at the line cabin. And he said
that he wasn't. Up there, I mean."
"Of course he's gonna say that," Brian said, echoing what Ford had said earlier.
"Did he hurt you?" Brian demanded then.
"No."
Brian stepped closer and took my chin in his hand. "Did he, peach?" he insisted, and I could tell was sincerely worried.
"No, Bri. Honest."
He studied me a moment longer, and then dropped his hand from my chin.
Crane reached out and pulled me closer, tugging me until I was sitting on the bench, and he was sitting above me. He wrapped
his arms around me from behind.
"What else did he say?" Adam asked. His tone was quiet enough, but I could tell he was simmering with anger.
"He asked me about Guthrie. How he was. And I told him to leave Guthrie alone. He said that he wanted to smooth things
over with him," I said.
Crane rubbed his hand over my arm, in comforting circles.
"He said why would anybody think that he would be up there. And then he said that he could trespass better places than
a line shack with a broken-in floor," I went on.
There was total silence for a long, long moment, and then Brian swore, "Son of a bitch," under his breath.
"That's it," Brian said then.
"Anything more?" Adam asked me.
"No," I said, and then I hesitated.
"What, Harlie?" Adam asked me.
"He asked if we could get together some time," I added.
"And you said?" Brian asked, his jaw tight.
"I told him I had to go. I didn't answer, really," I said.
Brian began to pace back and forth in front of the picnic table.
"Harlie," Adam said, and I looked up at him.
"You tell us now, right now, if he did anything to hurt you. If he said one word of a threat to you. This is when you
tell us," he said, sounding fierce.
"No," I said. "I mean, it was scary and all. But he didn't do anything to me."
"I'll call the sheriff," Adam said. "Tell him that it had to have been Seth that Harlie and Evan saw."
He stood up, next to Brian. Adam reached out to put his hand on the back of Ford's neck. "I'm glad you were in
town," he said.
"No more goin' to town alone," Brian told me.
Even though I'd known that they would say that, I still felt frustrated. But I was still shaken up a bit, too, by my
encounter with Seth. Shaken enough that I wasn't going to argue. At least right at that moment.
"Okay," I said.
Crane gave me a gentle push and I stood up. He kept his arms around me for a few minutes.
Adam reached out to rub a hand over my cheek, and then sighed, and went to the house. To call the sheriff, I knew.
"Will that be enough for Seth to be arrested?" I asked. "The fact that he knew about the hole in the floor at the cabin?"
"Not likely," Crane said. "Still not enough proof. Besides, it would just be trespassing, anyway. No proof that they
were up to anything else up there."
"Then what's the point of calling the sheriff again?" I asked, in frustration.
"We need to keep him updated on anything that happens," Crane said, sounding reasonable.
I sighed, and Crane hugged me a little tighter. As everybody separated to get back to work, Ford going with Brian, I stood
there with Crane for a few more moments. I wrapped my arms around his waist.
"You sure you're okay?" he asked me.
"I'm okay."
"I better get back to work," he said.
"Can I tag along with you?" I asked him.
"Sure."
I couldn't explain it exactly. I just felt like being with Crane right then.
7