Dodge the Bullet

by Christy Hayes

  Regina must have been mistaken. Kevin hadn’t said anything about making friends at school. He’d given her the impression he was miserable, sitting alone at lunch and sulking through his day. She was going to have to call the guidance counselor that afternoon and get an unbiased update.

  “Well, I…I’m glad to finally meet a neighbor. We had much closer quarters back in Atlanta.”

  Regina came around the high counter and rested her body along the doorframe that led to the back of the office. “How are you settling in? Big change from back home?”

  Sarah studied Regina as she sat in one of the waiting room chairs. Her slender face featured a straight nose and wide, expressive blue eyes. If it weren’t for the overdone makeup and her exposed roots, Regina had the makings of a beautiful woman. If her daughter Shiloh held any resemblance to her mother, it’s no wonder Kevin spent so much time by the river near their property. “We’re just starting to feel settled in. It’ll take some time to become acclimated to small town life, especially for the boys.”

  “I noticed you’re putting up fences. You planning on setting up your place as a working ranch?” Regina took the seat next to Sarah.

  “Long term, that’s the plan. But for now we’re leasing the land to A.J. Dodge until we get a handle on things.” Sarah watched as Regina’s face lost a bit of color when she mentioned the lease.

  “Oh…I, I didn’t realize you knew Dodge.” Regina stood up and moved behind the counter, putting an end to their friendly chat.

  “He’s been very helpful since we’ve been here, and now his lease will ease our transition.” She heard an edge in her voice, a defensive edge that she couldn’t quite hide. She was confused by people’s reaction whenever they learned Dodge was helping her. “Have you known Dodge long?”

  Regina fussed with some papers on her desk, answered without looking Sarah in the eye. “His family’s been in the valley for as long as I can remember.”

  Humm, an evasive answer. She knew she needed to figure out Dodge’s history before she signed the lease. But for some reason, the more people slammed him, the more she wanted to defend him. She resented everyone insinuating he was trouble. Before she could question Regina further, an intercom on her desk buzzed and she told Sarah that Mr. Garrity would see her now.

  Regina escorted Sarah to one of two offices down a narrow hallway and closed the door behind her when she left. Mitchell Garrity was a large man with thick silver hair and a neatly pressed suit. His handshake was firm, his voice a booming clamor.

  “Mrs. Woodward.” He took his seat and directed Sarah to take the visitor’s chair opposite his desk. He rocked in the leather seat as he spoke. The squeaking provided a beat his voice followed like a song. “I understand you have a lease agreement you want me to look over, make a few addendums to.”

  “That’s right.” She slid the file across the desk. “It’s pretty straight forward, but I’d like a legal document in place to keep it all above board. Paula Hamilton recommended you highly.”

  Mr. Garrity smiled like a politician, all grin and no teeth. “Paula’s good people, Mrs. Woodward. I like doing business with good people.” He tapped his fingers on the unopened file and studied her face before speaking. “You need to be sure of the people you’re doing business with, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Sarah felt her face flush and could feel her oatmeal congeal into a sluggish brick in her stomach. What the hell had Dodge done?

  “Of course I agree, Mr. Garrity. That’s why I’m here. There’s a survey of the property and a copy of the lease Mr. Dodge had with his former…landlord, I guess you’d say. I’ve written a few changes on the lease. I’d appreciate your professional guidance and an official document before proceeding further.”

  Mr. Garrity sat forward in his seat, brought the squeak to an unexpected halt. Without the rhythm of the chair, the room seemed ominously quiet.

  “Mrs. Woodward--”

  “Please, call me Sarah.”

  “Very well, Sarah. I feel obligated to warn you about any association with A.J. Dodge. The man’s family’s as good as gold, but he’s been gone a long time and his reputation before he left town was…” he tilted his head back and forth, “shaky at best.”

  “Mr. Garrity, I’m not sure what Dodge did to warrant a suspect reputation, but I’m not altogether comfortable talking about him behind his back.” She fidgeted in her seat, rubbed her suddenly cold hands together as if she were scrubbing them with soap. “I’d appreciate it if you’d draw up the lease agreement with the additions and make appropriate recommendations. If you’re not comfortable doing so, I’m sure I can find another attorney who will.”

  Garrity sat back in his chair and gave Sarah a patronizing smile. “There’s no need to find another attorney. I simply wanted to be sure you knew who you are getting in to bed with, so to speak.”

  Sarah stood up and ignored his hubris. “I’ll worry about my bed partners, thank you. Do you have any questions that pertain to the lease or shall I assume this is a pretty straightforward matter you’ll have wrapped up in a few days?”

  “I can have it for you first thing tomorrow, Mrs. Woodward. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She looked him in the eye and turned to leave without a proper goodbye. When she reached the sidewalk, she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t explain her anger, and didn’t know who she was angry with--Dodge or the town for slandering him behind his back.

  ###

  Dodge tossed his car keys on the Formica counter and paced through his dad’s house. He passed the den that, thanks to his dad’s former habit, still smelled of pipe smoke. He came to a stop in the foyer at the base of the old wooden stairs.

  “Pop? You up there?”

  His dad’s truck, older than Sarah’s, sat parked in the covered shed outside. Donnie had to be in the house or out checking on his cows. He was known not to wear his hearing aid when home alone.

  “Why are you shouting, son?”

  Donnie scooted around Dodge from the side bathroom and walked slowly into the kitchen, placed the newspaper on the table next to his stained coffee mug. He eased himself into the chair and looked up at Dodge. Dodge pulled out a metal chair, noticed the cracked vinyl cushion had been recently repaired with duct tape, and assessed his dad for signs of fatigue. He looked good today. His eyes were clear and he was dressed to head outside. That meant his arthritis wasn’t so bad he couldn’t leave the comfort of his recliner.

  “You heading out?”

  “Just finishing the paper. I got some repairs to do on that old culvert near the back pond. You gonna be here long enough to make yourself useful?”

  Dodge laughed. Donnie Dodge wouldn’t accept help from God himself if given the chance.

  “You want me to help?”

  “Hell no, I don’t want you to help. What are you doing out here anyway? I heard you’ve got a new lease worked out with the widow. Shouldn’t you be over there?”

  “Well, good to know the grape vine’s still going strong.” Dodge scanned the local paper. “How’d you know about the lease?”

  “Phone’s been ringing off the hook. Regina Winslow told Isabelle that Mrs. Woodward’s told Mitchell Garrity to mind his own damn business where you’re concerned. Course that’s not the spin Regina’s put on it, but it’s the gist all the same.”

  Dodge couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Sarah had stood up for him. Had she heard about what happened all those years ago?

  “What’d Garrity say to her?”

  Donnie slugged the last of his coffee and folded the newspaper into a neat rectangle, ran his hand along the crease. “Just warned her about who she was doing business with, same old bullshit.” He pushed his chair back, the sharp squeak against the linoleum found Dodge doing the same. “You tell that gal what happened?”

  “No.” Dodge walked to the sink and looked out the window to the barn and pasture beyond. The day was cool, and the branches of the stand of spruce trees planted
near the fence swayed with the steady wind. He and his dad never talked about what drove Dodge away and what kept him gone for so long. “Guess I’m going to have to now, though.”

  Donnie moved to the kitchen door and took his flannel lined jacket from the hook, twisted his frail arms into the sleeves. “You give that gal a reason to defend you, son. I’ve never heard you defend yourself to nobody. Not right her having to do it on her own.”

  When Donnie opened the door, Dodge called after him. “Hey, Pop. You still got an extra bed upstairs I could stay in for awhile?”

  Donnie turned to face him. “You not staying out at her place?”

  “I’ll get my hired hand to stay there, keep an eye on things.” And when Donnie frowned, Dodge said, “I’m not putting any more on her than I already have. It’ll be best this way.”

  “You can stay here as long as you like.” He closed the door behind him.

  Dodge turned back to the window and watched his dad unleash his hound dog and struggle to get into the seat of the tractor. Things around Hailey hadn’t changed much. His dad’s body didn’t respond quite as quickly as it used to, but the motions were still the same. When he was gone he liked to picture his family just as they were when he left, adjusting the image every so often when news made it his way.

  He hadn’t come back for any of his sister’s weddings or for the births of his nieces and nephews. He hadn’t wanted to cause a stir and shift attention from the happiness they’d all gathered to celebrate. But he’d missed them, even his sisters, and enjoyed thinking of them safely tucked away in the place he’d made for them in his mind. But when loneliness had gotten to him, he’d come back to town. He thought enough time had passed so he and his family wouldn’t have to face the shame and humiliation he’d caused them before. But here he stood, thirty-eight years old and still dealing with the ghost of the past. And when he thought about Sarah and her sons, he knew he was bringing more people into the line of fire. He scooped up his keys and headed back outside. It was time to tell Sarah about his past.

  Chapter 12

  “Who was that?” Lyle asked.

  Sarah stared quizzically at the cell phone she’d just replaced in her purse, and worried at a hole in the red vinyl of the diner booth. Good question. Who was Carl Coffee, why did he think her ranch was for sale? How the hell had he gotten her cell phone number? And why would an attorney from Denver even know about her place to begin with?

  “I’m not sure,” she said and then shook her head and turned back to study the diner’s menu, what she’d been doing before the phone rang. She couldn’t quite shake the weirdness of the call. He’d even thrown out a price only marginally more than she and Todd had paid over five years ago. With the appreciation of land in the area and the improvements she was making, the land would be worth a hell of a lot more than the number Mr. Coffee had offered. Strange. She put her thoughts aside and decided not to let it distract her from a rare meal out with her sons.

  ###

  Tom Thornton was hungry. Good thing the diner’s Wednesday night special was baked brisket with the spicy southwestern red sauce that made it the place to eat in Hailey most every night of the week. His mouth watered just thinking about the brisket as he pulled into a spot along the diner’s back alley. He sauntered inside, his stomach welcoming the smell of food.

  Damn, the restaurant was crowded tonight. He tipped his head at Manuel heading out to load the dumpster yet again and stepped inside the squeaky back door. He winked at Becky Hadley as she wrestled her way beside him in the small hallway that led to the seating area and tried hard not to upend the tray she carried filled with half empty plates and glasses.

  “Hey, Tommy.” She lifted the tray above his head, a testament to her upper arm strength and Tommy’s shortness. “Your booth just became available. If you’ll give me a second, I’ll send Manuel to clear it for you.”

  “Thanks, Becky.” Tommy moved into the diner, bustling with people both eating and catching up on the day’s happenings.

  He quickly surveyed the crowd, looked to see who he’d talk to while his table was cleared. He spied the usuals: Martin and Rebecca Howard, eating in companionable silence after forty plus years of marriage; the Reeder family with their four boys swatting each other with hands and straws, feet and napkins, anything they could get their hands on. With four kids under seven, Bill and Carol Anne couldn’t care less about the commotion they caused as long as nothing got broken. Beau Franklin chatted up one of the Barstow twins who worked the register, Tommy never could tell one from the other, and there were an assortment of ranch hands speaking Spanish and keeping to themselves in the corner.

  He turned to look towards his booth, nestled along the wall nearest the radio speaker. Above his favorite seat hung a framed clipping from the 1985 Hailey Spectator proclaiming the town’s one and only state football championship. Tommy had seen most of his action from the sidelines, his small stature a problem even before most of his teammates had reached their full height.

  Manuel stacked the cups and plates in an old bus bin as gray as the sky during a winter storm and flirted with the coal-eyed beauty sitting in the next booth. Tommy stifled a laugh and let the smile fade from his lips as he looked at the booth nearest his. Facing the back of the diner sat a woman he didn’t recognize with two teenaged boys. Her brown hair and startling green eyes framed an angular face.

  As he slid into his seat, her serious eyes found their way to his and then her attention beamed back in on the boys who sat brooding in their seat. He didn’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation, but there wasn’t much else going on in the diner that would be more interesting than ogling a beautiful woman.

  ###

  “I talked with Mrs. Burdette today,” Sarah said. “She’s the guidance counselor at school.” She was momentarily distracted by the man who’d sat down in the booth facing her. She could feel his eyes on her and had glanced over to see what he’d found so interesting. “You haven’t exactly been honest with me about school, Kevin.”

  Kevin’s head shot up and his shoulders moved back in defense. “What do you mean? What did she tell you?” He flicked a thatch of blond hair away from his eyes and Sarah wished he’d get a hair cut.

  “She said you seem to be acclimating well, making lots of friends and flirting with all the girls. Nothing to be upset about. Certainly nothing to mope around about, giving me the impression school’s miserable.” Sarah waited for him to deny it, was surprised when he simply dropped his gaze and shrugged his shoulders. She reached over and tried to set her hand over his on the table top next to his empty plate. He ripped it away. “Is it more fun to torture me and let me think things at school are horrible?”

  Kevin slammed his back into the booth cushion, jostled both their table and the one where the man sat obviously listening. She’d said it softly, without any anger, and was surprised by his furious reaction. “You said to make the most of the situation and that’s all I’m doing. And now you want to punish me for it? God, mom you’re schizophrenic.”

  “Kevin, I’m not punishing you for anything. I’m glad to hear school’s going well, I just wish I could have heard it from you instead of the guidance counselor.” Sarah looked at Lyle, sitting still in his seat, his eyes lowered to the table.

  Kevin jabbed Lyle in the shoulder. “I’ve got to use the bathroom,” he said, and was gone as soon as Lyle let him out of the booth. Lyle sat back down and continued staring at his plate.

  “Mrs. Burdette said you’re the one she’s worried about, honey.” Sarah reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away, just sat staring a hole in the table, flipping his unused knife over and over on the fake wood surface. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Lyle peeled his hand from under Sarah’s and slowly let his eyes lift to hers. “It’s just different here, that’s all.”

  His quiet resignation shot through her like a bullet, shredding away any doubt that she knew what her sons were going through. “You knew it wou
ld be. Is it not what you expected?”

  Lyle sighed and ran a hand through his hair like his dad used to when he’d get frustrated. Watching him mimic Todd caused Sarah’s heart to twist. “I just…I don’t know how to describe it. The guys are pretty nice, but…everyone’s known each other since they were babies and they don’t seem to want another friend. And the girls, mom.” His face was so full of agony she wanted to laugh and cry for him at the same time. “They follow me around and stare all the time. I’ve finally figured out I don’t have food on my face and that they’re just looking to look, like I’m a freak show or something.”

  Had he never looked at himself in the mirror? Like Todd, his good looks drew people to him and his good nature held them there. “Honey, they’re not looking at you because you’re a freak. They’re looking at you because you’re nice to look at. You can’t tell me you didn’t have girls after you back in Atlanta. I remember several calling the house for you all the time.”

  “Yeah, but that was nothing. The girls would just dare each other to call guys, that’s all. We were just friends.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But here the girls are looking and making me uncomfortable, and all the guys think I’m trying to be a big shot and I’m not.”

  “Are there any boys who’ve been nice? Any at all?”

  Lyle shifted in his seat, placed his hands safely under the table in his lap. “There was this one guy, he seemed pretty nice. We were talking about sports and we threw the football around a little bit before school. But then this girl made a big production of passing me a note during health class and ever since he’s kept his distance. I don’t know, mom. At least in the fall there’ll be sports to play. I…I gotta use the bathroom, too.” He hurried out of his seat.