by Hallie Lee
Just before I closed my eyes, I saw Desi’s face pale. Meadow, don’t do this. It’s not who you are—
“Adam,” Robin spoke up defiantly.
“That’s him,” Meadow remained cool as she sipped her coffee. “He’s washed up now. Mad at the world. The last I heard he’s wrecking marriages all over some Podunk town in Texas.” Her words sliced through the air, landing hard on Desi.
“Enough,” I stood up. “If you don’t want to eat, Meadow, we’re going to pick up the food.”
“All I’m saying, is not everybody’s dreams come true. Look at that guy.”
Robin gathered a few plates, responded in a measured tone. “The difference between Adam and Bella is that Bella has real talent.”
“I know,” Meadow agreed. “But sometimes the good guys don’t win. Take my mama, for instance.”
•
I walked Desi and Robin onto the patio, while Bella stormed upstairs to have it out with Meadow. “I’m sorry. Meadow is out of sorts.”
“It’s okay,” Robin said. “We understand.”
“This try out thing with Bella pushes all of Meadow’s buttons. She’s afraid for her.”
“That’s why I pray it goes well.” Desi hugged me.
After we loaded their car, Robin said, “You need to tell Ricky what happened. He’s not going to let up until you do.”
“You know how he is,” Desi added.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’m serious. You need to show up tomorrow.”
“I’ll show up,” I eyed her. “But your stunt with the lawyer is what set him off. You know that, don’t you?”
“What did you do?” Robin asked Desi, a smile forming.
Desi shrugged. “Nothing. I just told him I hired Brad a lawyer and he’d better leave him alone or I…” she gave Robin a jaunty look.
“Or you what?” Robin pressed.
“Or I wouldn’t let him see you the next time you came to visit.” I watched the two of them break into a hearty chuckle, and when they bent their foreheads together affectionately, they looked exactly the way they did in high school.
“Seriously Brad,” Desi said when she recovered. “Ricky told us he’s got state people coming in this week with dogs to look for Madhawk. Just go and talk to him tomorrow and get it over with.” My heart dropped as I thought of Redflyer and his search team.
“Who’s that?” Robin scanned the clearing in the woods by the shed.
My hand was on my knife when I saw Fireman walk up to the house. “Hello,” he said in greeting. Stray dogs, cats, and chickens trailed behind him as he carried a handful of fresh flowers.
“Well, aren’t you a handsome young man,” Robin grinned at him.
He blushed. Then turned to me and offered in a formal tone, “I’ve come to call on Bella.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “And I want to be clear about my intentions.”
I didn’t dare look at Desi and Robin, who were clearly amused. “And what exactly are your intentions, young man?”
“I plan to marry her.”
“She’s pretty feisty.” I raised my eyebrows. “And I’m quite fond of her. How old are you?”
“I’m ten. But I’m an old soul.”
I swallowed back a chuckle. “Okay. Well, you’ll have to prove yourself.”
“I will,” he said. “Over time, you’ll see.”
I stepped aside, watched as his small frame padded up the stairs.
“I just love a traditional man.” Robin said as she situated herself next to Desi in the car.
I waved, watching as they drove off, and the dust settled beneath their tires. Since I didn’t want to ruin Fireman’s pitch to Bella, I remained on the porch. Pulled out my phone to text Redflyer.
Time was running out.
•
Wolfheart had allowed the mongrels to grow soft. He fed them and catered to them like babies, instead of the vicious beasts they were.
Madhawk hated dogs.
He’d come close to sticking a knife in the belly of the Heinz 57 when it had wandered over, sniffing him with curiosity. But then Wolfheart had stumbled onto the porch with his coffee, and the pesky mutt had lost interest. Off he went, to beg for his morning kibble, never giving Madhawk another thought.
Madhawk choked back a laugh. Relieved now that he knew the hounds wouldn’t give him away. Nor the cats. The chickens, however, maintained an angry look in their beady eyes. Maybe they remembered him from the other night? He laughed again, but this time the sound that dragged from his throat came out raspy like a rattle.
He chugged from the bottle of whiskey he’d stolen from Stormrunner’s shack. Then chased it with one of the lovely pills he’d found in his chest of drawers. It’s not like he’d need them anymore. The old coot had gone down with barely a fight. The whiskey burned nicely as it slid down Madhawk’s throat.
Unfortunately, while the whiskey and Stormrunner’s pills had eased his pain, Madhawk had grown drunk and sluggish. Now, even with his trusty knife, and his targets within his grasp, he feared he didn’t have the stamina to make his move on Peony’s family.
First, he’d need some things from Wolfheart’s place. And a few select plants from his precious garden.
But the day’s traffic had frustrated his plans. Starting with the traitor Redflyer, and his fellow stooges, Moonpipe and Youngdeer, who had shown up with their so-called posse.
They’d been so full of chitter chatter they’d woken him from his chemically induced slumber. He’d crawled on his hands and knees past the raggedy shed, and hidden behind a pile of logs. He’d heard parts of their conversation.
All set to search for him…beyond the creek…around the black lands…
Once Redflyer left, the women came. City women, with their fancy clothes, makeup, and laughter. Rich people laughter. The kind that came effortlessly because their lives were so easy. They were soft just like the dogs.
Madhawk would have enjoyed putting them down too. Just like the Heinz 57.
Finally, the boy came. Trussed up like a Christmas turkey. His hair slicked back and his shirt tucked in. Stinking of perfume and carrying flowers like a little pansy.
The squirt got Madhawk to thinking, why not use him like a tool? Since he was so friendly with Wolfheart and the women, he could get the supplies he needed.
After that, he’d lay low. Maybe take a trip to Osprey Lake to avoid the searchers entirely.
A searing pain ripped through Madhawk’s shoulder, reverberated through his neck, and ended with a pounding to his head.
Madhawk focused on his breathing. One. Two. Three.
He thought about what Redflyer had said about the Spirit Warrior. About the Spirit Warrior being able to find him.
Four. Five. Six.
There. Better now.
Madhawk had defeated the Spirit Warrior…and the memory of putting him down was like a salve to his pain.
Chapter Ten
It’s On The House
Luke
W
hen Claire became the head of the Shady Gully Post Office two years ago, she’d developed a whole new skillset. Instead of simply being the town’s leading rumor monger, she’d promoted herself to the Chief of the News Division.
Claire was like the web server that powered the local network. She processed requests and delivered data, all through the skewed lens of her agenda. The post office was the nucleus of Shady Gully, a necessary and well trafficked zone, and Claire considered the front counter her throne, and her mouth the definitive source of all information. Archived or current. Fact or fiction.
Which is why, quite honestly, I needed her on my side. I pulled another twenty flyers from the copy machine. Lifted the top, switched flyers, and hit copy again. “How are you enjoying the strud
el?”
“Luke, you shouldn’t have. Really.” She popped the last of the pastry into her mouth.
“My pleasure. I was in Belle Maison anyway this morning. You wouldn’t believe all the pastry shops there. Also, I noticed a grand opening at a new nail salon. I thought of you.” I patted my pockets. “Here. This is a coupon for a free manicure.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I do love for my nails to look nice.” She frowned at her chipped ruby red polish. “They say your hands are the first thing people notice, you know? No matter how many face lifts, boob jobs, or liposuction you’ve had, your hands give you away every time.”
Claire propped up her cat-eye glasses like a headband, gathering her thick dark hair—which typically varied in color according to the latest trend—behind her ears. She had a sturdy, solid frame, and sported an array of rings. Nose, ear, and the traditional kind. A large, green ornament that stretched the length of her pointer finger nearly blinded me as she reached for another strudel. “What is that you’re copying anyway?”
“Flyers explaining the benefits of incorporation. One of which is local control of development. Like say, if you wanted to zone for a new subdivision—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want that.”
“Or a strip mall. Like for a pastry shop or a nail salon.”
“Ooh, that would be nice. I wouldn’t have to drive all the way to Belle Maison.”
I nodded enthusiastically, pressed copy. “And you could hire more mail carriers if you needed them. That would leave you more time here at the front counter. After all, this is where it’s at, right?”
She laughed. “You are right about that. I hardly have time to catch my breath.” She scratched the chipped paint on her nails. “With Meadow out, I had to hire her daughter as a sub.”
“Bella?”
“I usually don’t hire anyone without experience, but like you said, I’m shorthanded. It’s not like I can do everything, you know?”
“Absolutely. And if you had a decent budget, you could upgrade to actual mail trucks, rather than the carriers using their own cars. That’s bound to be more efficient, right?”
“It would. And sharper looking too.”
“No doubt. Incorporation would certainly give you more funding for things like that. All at your discretion, of course.”
She hopped off her stool, and strolled around the counter. “Let’s see one of those.” She squinted as she read, but her expression cast favorably.
“Maybe you could leave some on your counter for customers to peruse—”
“Oh no, Luke. You’re a darling, but I couldn’t do that.”
I looked appropriately contrite.
“But,” she carried the flyer to the giant bulletin board that was front and center in the lobby. “I could do this.” She yanked off several post-its and yellowed flyers regarding lost dogs and free kittens, and tossed them into the trash. Then she removed the thumbtacks from church bulletins, garage sales, and shower announcements, wadding them up as well.
“This is important.” She tacked my flyer at eye level, nothing surrounding it but pristine bulletin board. “People need to know.”
“I think so too, Miss Claire.”
She blushed. “Don’t Miss me, Luke. How’re your mama and them? I understand Robin’s visiting from Kentucky.”
This was tricky territory. I could undo all the progress I’d made with the wrong answer. Fortunately, a car pulling into the back of the post office toward the mail room distracted her, and when Bella waved, Claire glowered. “Speaking of the devil.”
“Excuse me?” I pulled another twenty flyers from the copier.
“She couldn’t possibly be done already.” Claire returned to her post behind the counter, and whispered conspiratorially, “Quite honestly, I’m not sure I trust her. But all my other carriers won’t go across the creek. Can’t say I blame ’em. Those Creek Freaks are a little sketchy. And after that killing, I just don’t know what this world is coming to.”
I put the last of the flyers in my box. Opened my wallet and dug out a twenty.
“Oh, that’s too much, Luke. It’s on the house.”
Bella, her high ponytail bouncing along her shoulders, entered from the mail room in the back. Her cheeks were flushed as she greeted us. “All done, Miss Claire. Hi, Luke.”
“Hey,” I said thickly, distracted by the thin line of skin along her exposed neck.
“I can’t imagine you finished your route already, Bella.” Claire scrutinized her. “What about Prairie Road? Where the storm washed away the gravel? And Big Island Loop? That alone takes two hours.”
“Yes ma’am. I got it all. I started early, remember? My try out at Shady Gully Baptist Church is this afternoon.”
“Oh yes. Of course.” Claire side-eyed me, flashing skeptical. “That’s right. Well. Good luck then.”
I avoided Claire’s eyes, tempering my irritation.
Fortunately, old man Chester, Claire’s buddy and the town curmudgeon, lumbered into the post office, no doubt salty over one grievance or another. He and Claire assembled daily, wallowing in the day’s gripes and grumbles.
I managed a quick goodbye, and then headed to my car in the parking lot, while Bella disappeared through the mail room exit.
I drove around to the back of the post office, stopping Bella as she got into Meadow’s car. “How about a bite to eat? You’ve still got a few hours before try outs.”
“How do you know? Are you coming too?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I answered. “Mama’s got the whole town lined up.”
“Oh…” Bella’s face fell into her hands. “No pressure.” After a moment she raised her head, and smiled crookedly. Part petrified, and part exuberant. “Thanks, but I brought a bologna sandwich from home.”
“What? That’s not a lunch of champions.” I grinned. “Follow me to the Cozy Corner.”
•
“What’ll you have?” Charlie Wayne demanded from the order window.
“How about a chicken sandwich on whole grain bread?” Bella asked, “And do you have any fruit plates?”
Charlie Wayne regarded Bella for several seconds. “I got double cheeseburgers and fries.” He flicked his eyes at me. “Two for a dollar today.”
“Charlie Wayne,” I implored. “You don’t have a banana or an apple back there somewhere? And who doesn’t have chicken?” I handed him a flyer. “You know, if we can get this incorporation petition passed, you could add on here, and maybe expand your menu.”
“I got cheeseburgers and fries. Two for a dollar.”
“It’s okay,” Bella said. “That sounds great. And maybe some sweet tea?”
Charlie Wayne’s eyes darted between us so long I was afraid he didn’t have sweet tea. Finally, he slammed the window and disappeared into the kitchen.
As Bella and I sat at a picnic table, I watched, mesmerized, as she freed her hair from the ponytail. She ran her fingers back and forth along her scalp, and within seconds her hair fanned out along her shoulders. The act of fluffing her hair seemed remarkably intimate, and I felt obliged to look away. But I didn’t.
“Gosh, that feels better,” she said. “Did you get your copies made?”
“Yeah. A few different versions.” I reached into my pocket for a flyer. “Aunt Robin helped me write them. And Sterling came up with the color and artwork. Catchy, huh?”
Bella pored over the flyer. “I love it. How about I put them in mailboxes across the creek tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, Bella. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” I thought of the way Claire was itching to find fault with her.
“Here you go,” Charlie Wayne said in a gruff tone as he set a bag of food before us. When I pulled out my wallet, he waved me off. “It’s on the house.” He grumpily stalked back to the kitchen. “Good luck today,” he
eyed Bella over his shoulder.
Bella and I exchanged looks. “That was unexpected,” she said. “And look!” She scrounged through the contents of the bag, beaming at the sight of a plump, juicy pear.
“Your fruit plate,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes as she peeked between the buns. “And this is chicken! What a sweet guy.”
I guffawed. “Today anyway.”
I sat back as Bella gave her lunch her full attention. In a world full of women who picked at salads, I found her voracious appetite appealing. Finally, as she bit into her pear, she seemed to remember me. “Have you met James?”
“He’s the nicer of the two. A softer version of Jesse.”
Bella arched her brow.
“He’s reasonable. And fair minded.”
“I hope so.” She sipped her tea through the straw. “I wish my Mamaw Peony were here to see me today. She was my biggest fan.”
“I understand how you feel,” I said with empathy. “I miss my nana too. It’s probably stupid, but sometimes I imagine—”
“What?”
“I imagine us having conversations. My nana was cool, and forward thinking, and I imagine her encouraging me on my mission. But then other times—” I paused on the precipice of my confession. “Other times I think she might hate it.”
Bella set her sweet tea down with a plunk. “She’d love it and she’d be supportive because she loved you.”
“Maybe so. It’s just she never knew the grown up me, you know? And she might think I’m crazy like a lot of folks around here do.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy. And I highly doubt she would.”
I shrugged. “She was the neatest person I knew when I was a kid. I always wanted to be creative and interesting like her, but I’m afraid those genes went to Petey instead.”
“I think you’re interesting.”
“Well, I think you’re creative.”
She laughed. I laughed. We clinked sweet teas.
As much as I wanted to remember the approval I saw reflected in her eyes, I resisted the urge to pull out my phone and snap a picture.
