That evening, around six o'clock, the sheriff came back over to our house. He was joined by the deputy that had
come with him the first time, the one that was from the city and who didn't ride very well.
They sat down in the living room, having coffee, while Evan talked about the tire incident in town, and then Adam
told them about the letter that had come in the mail that day, addressed to me.
After asking Daniel and Evan some questions, about where they'd been parked at, and if they'd seen anyone hanging
around Evan's truck. Questions like that. The deputy took some notes, and then the sheriff read over the short
letter.
"Why do you think this might have come addressed to Harlie?" the sheriff asked, in a general way.
"We figure it might be from the Foreman kid," Adam said.
"Do you have a history of some sort with him?" the sheriff asked, turning to me where I was sitting
beside Brian on one of the couches.
I felt really uncomfortable at that point. It was embarrassing, with everybody looking at me, and remembering
all the stuff that had happened with Seth.
"Did you date him?" the sheriff went on.
"No," I said. "I mean, not really."
The sheriff looked a bit confused, and Brian gave my leg a light tap. "Explain to Hal what you mean by that."
"He gave me a ride home once. And I guess he thought I'd go out with him sometime," I said, feeling my face
turn warm as the sheriff looked at me.
"He bothered Harlie quite a bit at school last year," Hannah defended me.
"Guthrie and him had a couple of go-arounds, too," Adam added.
"Hmm," the sheriff said. "Well, it sounds as though the tire-slashing might have something to do with the phone call
you all got the other day, alright. As far as the letter, though, that's more of a puzzle." He turned to me again.
"Can you think of anybody else with the initial S that might have sent the letter?"
I shook my head. "No, sir."
"Alright. Well, I'll hang onto this," the sheriff said, waving the letter. He got to his feet, setting his empty cup on the coffee table, while the deputy did the same. "And I advise against you keeping this two o'clock meeting on Saturday, with whoever it might be."
"No danger of her keepin' it," Brian said, with finality.
"Well, good. I'll try to see if I can have somebody close by, to see if it's the Foreman kid that shows up," the sheriff said.
"Thank you for the coffee."
"You're welcome," Hannah said, and the two men headed out onto the front porch, followed by Adam, and Crane, and they all stood talking for a few more minutes.
Brian went back towards the kitchen, saying that he was going to get some more sweet tea to drink. Clare said she was going upstairs to do some sewing. I was in the kitchen, along with Brian, when Ford and Evan came in, too. Evan hoisted himself up onto the counter to sit, biting into an apple.
"You have enough money to pay Jake for the new tire?" Brian asked Evan.
"Yeah. I had enough. But damn, tires have gotten expensive," Evan complained.
Ford took the pitcher of tea from Brian, and poured himself some. "I was thinking about doing some work in town," he said.
"Where at?" Brian asked him.
"The print shop."
"We've got enough around here to do," Brian pointed out.
"I could squeeze in some time for the extra work," Ford said.
Brian made a 'hmm' sort of reply, and then added, "I don't know, Ford."
Adam walked into the kitchen to hear the tail end of the conversation. "What extra work?" he asked.
Ford sat down at the table, not answering immediately, and Brian said, "Beans has it in his head to get some
extra work in town."
Adam turned to Ford. "Doing what?" he asked.
"At the print shop," Ford told him.
Adam was standing there, looking surprised, and disapproving, too.
"Helping to print up the stuff for the street dance and for the Fourth of July," Ford added.
"What brought this on?" Adam asked.
"I just thought the extra money would help," Ford said.
"For the Fall's college expenses?" Adam asked him.
"No. For here," Ford said. "For the family."
"Ford," Adam said, with a sigh. "You don't need to do that."
"I want to," Ford said.
"With everything goin' on, it might not be the best time," Brian threw into the conversation.
"I'll be careful," Ford said.
Adam sat down at the table across from Ford, regarding him solemnly. "Look what happened with Evan's truck, and him
just parked for a short time," Adam pointed out.
"So we're gonna be afraid to go into town, even?" Ford asked, with uncustomary stubbornness.
I watched the conversation between Ford and Adam and Brian with interest, though I hoped it wouldn't turn into
an argument.
For a moment both Brian and Adam were silent.
"He's got a point," Brian said.
"Maybe so," Adam said in agreement. "But it's still a worry." He paused, looking considering. "What about all the work around here, then?"
"That's what I say," Brian said.
"I'd do my share," Ford said. "And it's not like it would be that many hours at the print shop anyway."
"I don't like it much," Adam said. "But you're grown, Ford. It's your decision to make."
"It'll be alright," Ford said, as if to convince Adam not to worry.
"But any money you make is yours," Adam went on. "Use it for school in the fall."
7
The next morning I went to pick pears, before the heat started climbing. I saw Ford at a distance, riding back
in with Evan, and, while I picked fruit, they unsaddled their horses, and Ford went to his truck, opening the door.
"Hey!" I called to him, and then again, louder, "Ford!"
He half-turned to see where the shout was coming from, and then waved to me.
I put the pear that I'd just pulled from the tree into the bucket, and sprinted over to Ford.
"Where are you going?" I asked him.
"To town."
"To talk to Mr. Anderson?" I asked.
"Yeah. And run a couple of errands."
"Can I ride along with you?" I asked, wiping my hands on my jeans.
"Sure, if you want."
"I'll go wash my hands and tell Hannah, okay?" I said.
"Well, hurry," he said.
I ran in thru the back door, letting the screen door slam behind me. The kitchen empty, I washed
my hands and my arms from sticky fruit, and went up the back stairs.
I found Hannah and Clare beside the hallway closet upstairs, with masses of stuff setting around.
"We're cleaning," Clare told me, with a laugh.
I was glad that I hadn't gotten pulled into this particular chore.
"I'm almost done with the pears," I said. "I was going to ride with Ford to town. Alright?"
Hannah paused, pushing her hair from her face.
"You stay with Ford, alright?" she told me. "Just to be safe."
"I will," I said.
I told them both goodbye, and flew back down the stairs.
Ford stopped at the Dari Kurl when we got to town, and bought us both a hamburger and fries.
"Thanks, Fordie," I said, munching on my fries as we drove back out onto the main street.
"I know that's why you wanted to come along with me," he said with a grin. "Hoping that I'd buy you
lunch."
"Now you know the truth," I joked back, as he parked in front of the newspaper office, and got out. "You coming in?" he asked me.
"In a minute. I'm going to finish my hamburger first."
"Okay," he said, and then leaned back into his open truck window. "Stay out of my fries, though."
"It's a chance you take," I told him glibly, and crossed my eyes at him.
I sat there, finishing up my hamburger, and nibbling on my fries, and watching townspeople walking back
and forth between the stores and up and down the sidewalks.
After a few minutes I got out and went inside the air-conditioned newspaper office. I spent a few minutes talking
to Maxie Kinder, who works at the front desk, taking orders over the phone and all that. She asked all sorts of
questions about the family, wanting to know how everyone was.
I was still sitting there, just talking and enjoying the cool air, when Ford came thru from the back part of the
office, followed by Mr. Anderson.
Then I had to talk to Mr. Anderson, who wanted to know how old I was now, and what grade in school that I'd be in
in the fall and all of that. Mr. Anderson knew most of my brothers, since he'd had kids the same age as Crane and Daniel.
"Alright, Ford," Mr. Anderson said, as we were heading out the door. "We'll see you on Tuesday."
"Thank you," Ford told him, and held the door open, as I went out ahead of him.
"You got the job, huh?" I asked him, when we were outside on the sidewalk.
"Yep."
I cast a glance across the street at the vet office. "I sure miss coming in, and working at the vet office," I said,
feeling a sudden pang of sadness for Doc G.
Ford gave me a sympathetic half-smile.
After that, Ford stopped at the grocery store, saying that he'd told Hannah he would pick up some more milk.
"Okay," I said, propping my feet up on the dash. "I'll wait out here."
"Oh, come on," he coaxed.
I took another French fry and got out with a sigh.
"Let's do something fun today," I said, in sudden inspiration.
"Like what?" he asked as we began to walk into the store.
"Go bowling?" I suggested. "Just you and me? We could call home and let somebody know."
"There's a lot of work at home to do," Ford said.
"Please?" I asked.
"We'll see," he said, which I knew meant yes, that we could go over to Angels Camp and go bowling.
"I'll even let you win," I said, with a smile up at him.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, giving me a push.
Inside the grocery store, I trailed after Ford as he searched for the stuff Hannah had asked for. I was sort of absent-mindedly wandering behind him when I saw Seth out of the corner of one eye, checking out up front.
I tugged at the back of Ford's t-shirt. "Look, Ford," I said, with a nod.
Ford looked, and then said, "Just stay with me."
Seth was gone, and we had checked out, with Ford carrying the bag of groceries, coming back out into the
California heat. And there, beside Ford's truck, were three guys. I'd never seen any of them before,
and while one stood apart just a bit, another one leaned completely against the passenger door, and the third one was actually sitting on the hood!
The one sitting on the hood of the truck was smoking a cigarette, and when we came out, they all looked at us, but
none of them said anything. They didn't even acknowledge our presence.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask them what the heck they thought they were doing, but I kept still, sensing
the tension radiating from Ford.
"Can I do something for you fellas?" Ford asked, sort of quietly.
The one sitting on the hood flicked his cigarette to the ground, and said, "I don't think so. We don't need him to do
anything for us, do we, Bryce?"
The one leaning against my door laughed and said, "Naw, I don't think we do."
I felt my initial misgivings flutter their way to nervousness. Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
"Well, then, I'm gonna have to ask you all to find another place to sit and lean," Ford said. "Since we need to be
getting in and heading home."
Again, it was if we weren't there at all. None of them even reacted or acknowledged Ford's comment. Nervousness on my part ignited into fear.
I looked around, thinking that there must be somebody coming by that we knew that would see what was
happening.
"You're the girl that has a fella's name, aren't you?" the one leaning against the door said, looking directly at me. I was so startled that I stared at him. He looked like he was in his early twenties or so, maybe a little older. He had his hair cut short, and he was a big guy. Thick and muscular.
I started to say something back to him, but before I could get the words out, Ford stepped over a bit, so that he was
more in front of me. Then calmly, he said, "Come on," to me, indicating to me to follow him to the driver's side of the truck.
I did that, and he opened his truck door. "Get in," he told me, and I climbed up into the truck cab, scooting across the seat until I was in the middle, sort of. I didn't want to slide completely over to my side, since the one that had talked to me was still leaning there, with his elbow on the inside of the window.
Ford leaned in then, and handed me the sack of groceries, and then he turned, so that he was looking directly across the hood at all three of the men.
He spoke in a voice that I'd never heard him use before. He didn't raise his voice. Not at all. But there was an edge, a
hardness, to his tone that I'd never heard before.
"I'm getting in my truck, and I'm gonna be starting it up, and driving away. So unless you want to go for a ride on
the top like a deer, I'd suggest that you get off, and step back."
And then, Ford got in, settled behind the steering wheel, and slammed his door. He took the key from his pocket,
and started the motor. And still, the guy on the hood just sat there, his back to us, and lighting another cigarette.
"Ford," I said, really low, and frightened. In that brief moment that seemed an eternity, I wondered what Ford would do
if the guy didn't get off.
"It's alright," Ford said, just as low, and calmly.
"Let me go get somebody-" I said.
"Just sit still," he said.
And then, he shifted into reverse, and backed out, and gunned the motor a bit, and the guy on the hood hopped off.
He had to, I think, or he would have flown off. I thought then that Ford really would have driven off with him still on the
hood.
I was shaking as I scooted over to the other side of the cab, and set the grocery bag in the center, and we drove on.
"What's going on, Ford?" I asked, which was really a dumb question, because I knew Ford didn't have any
more answers that I did.
"I don't know," he said, and he sounded weird, too.
Another couple of minutes and I felt the shaking getting worse. I looked over at Ford, and said, "I'm scared."
Ford looked at me, and then he sighed, and pulled over, just on the outskirts of Murphys. He set the bag of groceries
on the floor, and tugged at my wrist.
"Comere," he said, and I scooted over to sit next to him. He put his arm around my shoulders,
and hugged me.
"Don't be upset, Har," he said. "It's alright."
"I was so scared, though," I said. "Weren't you scared?"
"To death," Ford admitted.
"You didn't show it," I told him, in admiration.
"I just reacted, I guess."
"You were brave," I said, looking at him in a new light.
"Not so much brave as just that I wanted to get you out of there," he said.
He hugged me again. "We better leave the bowling for another day."
"Okay," I said, and scooted back over to my side.
As we drove, I felt my shaking subside slowly, though I still felt frightened by what had happened.
"I've never seen them before, have you?" I asked.
"I think I might have seen the one that didn't say anything a time or two."
"Why did they do that, do you think?"
"I don't know," Ford said.
"Why to us? And why today?" I persisted. "They're the ones that the letter was about, I'll bet. The ones that
said trouble is coming to us."
"They could have just been guys that were feeling their oats," Ford said. "It might not have anything to do
with the letter."
"How did they know my name, though?" I asked, in worry.
"Try to forget about it."
"Are you serious?" I asked him. "That's impossible."
As we were pulling into the driveway at home, I said, "Hannah's going to flip."
"Yeah," Ford said, sounding worried.
"I'm going to go pick pears," I said, as he parked, and I got out.
Ford reached for the bag of groceries. "I'll see you later," he said.
We went our separate ways. I went to pick the pears that were left, and I saw Ford go inside the house, and
then come back out, heading towards the fields behind the barn.
I kept at my pear picking, my thoughts jumping all around about what had happened in town.
7