She laughed. “Hardly. It’s just . . . Well, everything’s going to change.” It wasn’t really the truth. Everything had already changed. But high school was one of those places where she could still see her mother, waiting to drive Rose home after school freshman year, walking the halls during Open House, cheering Rose on the one season she’d played volleyball.
“I know what you mean,” Will said.
She was grateful he didn’t push. And it was more than just her mom. Graduation was Saturday, and then her classmates would be going on to college or trade school, traveling, going to work or into the military. But she would be here in Milford, just like she’d always been, despite the money she’d saved and the shoe box full of travel brochures that she’d been keeping under her bed since she was twelve. She’d go to community college, but it wouldn’t really matter. Nothing would change, and she felt the weight of the impending sameness bear down on her like a runaway bull.
It was her own fault. Overwhelmed with her mother’s sickness and then her death, Rose hadn’t even applied to college. Aunt Marty tried to tell her it wasn’t too late, that she could take a gap year, then apply to school next year. But the farm wouldn’t run itself, and her dad’s grief demanded his full attention. What was she supposed to do? Abandon him? Abandon the farm? She couldn’t do either of those things. Besides, it had been so long since she’d been able to think about anything but the farm that she didn’t even know who she was without it.
“What does she mean?” The voice came from her left, and Rose turned to see her best friend, Lexie, bouncing next to her, holding her usual Styrofoam coffee cup. Rose had no idea what was in it; could be a nonfat vanilla latte, could be a black iced coffee. Lexie was funny that way. You never knew what she would do or say or wear. “What are we talking about?”
“Graduation,” Rose said, looking over her friend’s tutu skirt, cowboy boots, and flannel shirt. “And what in god’s name are you wearing?”
Lexie gave a toss of her long blond hair. “You know what Grandma Russell says.”
Rose groaned at the mention of Lexie’s grandmother, whose clichés Lexie pulled out on an almost hourly basis.
“Even marching to the beat of your own drummer isn’t an excuse for that getup.” Will laughed.
“Just because you two want to look like farmhands all the time doesn’t mean the rest of us do,” Lexie said.
“You’re wearing cowboy boots,” Rose pointed out.
“These?” Lexie looked down at the boots. “This is fashion. Not function.”
“There you go,” Rose said, turning to Will. “All we need are tutus and we’re good.”
Will laughed.
Lexie had moved to Milford three years ago, part of what had seemed like a mass exodus from the city. The town, once strictly rural, had become a mix of old farm families and middle-class commuters looking for the good life. The population had exploded, and the bus routes had gotten longer, the classrooms more crowded as the district tried to figure out how to make it all work.
“Hey, Lexie.” It was Travis Shelton, walking backward and grinning at Lexie like they had a secret.
Lexie sighed. “It was just a kiss, Travis.” She didn’t make any effort to keep her voice down, and a few of the other people heading into the building turned to look at her.
Travis looked hurt. “More than one.”
She rolled her eyes and looked away, ignoring him until he faced forward and pushed through the front doors of the school.
“God,” she said. “It’s like we’re engaged or something just because I made out with him at the bonfire.”
Will snorted. “You might be getting a little ahead of yourself. He just said ‘hey.’”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather shut it down now,” she said. “The last thing I need when I go to FIT is a small-town boyfriend holding me back.”
Rose laughed, imagining Lexie trying to juggle someone like Travis with her curriculum at the Fashion Institute. “Places to go and people to see, huh?”
“You know it. After this summer, I’m out of here. The city beckons.” She looped her arm through Rose’s. “And you are coming to visit every weekend. There are tons of hot guys down there.”
“I’m not exactly on the market, Lexie.”
“That’s the perfect time to find someone,” Lexie said. “Just . . . you know, get out and let love find you.”
Rose raised her eyebrows. “Let love find me? Is that more of Grandma Russell’s advice?”
Lexie sighed. “Okay, so it’s a little corny. But it’s true.”
They headed down the main hall as the first bell rang. “Come on, Red,” Will said. “Let’s get to calc before Lexie finds a way to pimp you out.”
“Sounds good,” Rose said. She didn’t even have time to condition her hair most days. The last thing she needed was a boyfriend.
Four
Bodhi’s first stop was the mini-mart in town. He’d exited the Appalachian Trail near Pawling, stopped for food, and hitched a couple of rides north to Milford. Now he was almost out of water, and he bought five bottles, drinking one and stuffing the rest in his pack before following the cashier’s directions to the small library off Main Street. Marty Jacobsen had told him no one would be at the farm until after five during the week. A library was as good a place to kill the time as any.
The library was in an old house off Main Street that had been opened up to accommodate two floors of books. An elderly woman greeted him with a nod, her gaze lingering on his face as he stepped inside. He saw the surprise in her eyes when he headed for the desk.
“Ma’am,” he said.
She nodded. “How may I help you?”
He held out his hand. “I’m Bodhi Lowell. I’ll be working on the Darrow farm, and I suppose I need to get myself a library card.”
She took his hand, her skin cool and papery next to his. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lowell! I’m Betsy Rand. I had no idea the Darrows were hiring this season. They usually get by with help from some of the locals. Although . . .” She hesitated before giving him a smile. “Never mind! I can help you with that library card.”
She put his information into an old computer and handed him a plastic card. “All of our fiction and nonfiction is on this floor. The children’s section is downstairs.”
“Thank you.” He held up his used copy of Infinite Jest. He’d learned not to hold on to things he didn’t need. “I don’t suppose you have any use for this?”
She leaned over the counter and pointed to a big box in the corner. There was a sign that read DONATIONS on the wall above the box. “We never turn down a book,” she said. “Though judging from the overflow here we probably should.”
Bodhi dropped his book into the box and browsed the shelves, finally settling on a mystery involving a serial killer. He checked out the book, said goodbye to Betsy Rand, and headed for the Thai restaurant he’d spotted when he’d first made his way into town.
He’d expected a small East Coast town to look different from the western ones where he’d cut his teeth, but other than the lack of mountain peaks in the distance, everything was pretty much the same. There was the Thai place, a couple of gas stations, the mini-mart where he’d bought his water, a pizza joint, a diner, and a strip mall that included a hardware store and a bagel shop. The biggest building in Milford was the Tractor Supply, a giant agricultural warehouse that stood on the outskirts of town. He would need to stop there to get new boots, but that would have to come after food. His stomach was grumbling, and he was already looking forward to the real food he could count on when working a farm.
He took a spot by the window, then ordered a platter of pad thai and one of chicken curry. He ate slowly, enjoying the taste of the food, the feel of the silverware in his hand, the warmth of the restaurant, all hard to come by on the road. When he was done, he strapped on his pack and headed for the Tractor Supply.
Five
Rose cleaned out her locker and waited in the side l
ot for Lexie, feeling a pang of sadness when she realized it would be the last time she’d drive her friend home after school. Lexie shared a car with her older brother, but he commuted to the local college, and Rose always drove Lexie home when she needed a ride.
She was looking out over the football field when the passenger-side door opened. Lexie climbed up into the truck. “My glutes are going to miss this workout,” she said, settling into the bench seat and putting on her seat belt.
“It’s not that high,” Rose said. “You’ll get more exercise walking around the city.”
“True.”
Rose put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
“How’s Buttercup doing?” Lexie asked when they were on the main road.
Rose knew Lexie wasn’t really asking about Buttercup. It was just a way for her to get around asking the real questions, the hard ones. Questions like “Was your dad up when you left for school this morning? Has he started helping out around the farm yet? Are you okay? Will you ever be okay again?” Rose didn’t mind. If the questions were hard for Lexie to ask, they would be a hundred times harder to answer.
“Not good,” Rose said. “I haven’t weighed her since last week, but she looks too small, and she’s still not nursing the way she should.”
“Has she gotten better at bottle-feeding?” Lexie asked.
“Not really. I mean, I manage to get a little bit down her before she pushes me away, but it’s not enough.”
“What about the cage?”
Rose sighed. “I told you; it’s not a cage. It’s a cattle chute.”
Lexie shrugged. “Whatever. Can’t you put her in that?”
“I’ve tried, but she thrashes and stuff. I’m worried she’ll hurt herself.”
“Well, what else can you do?” She flipped down the visor to reapply her lip gloss.
Rose thought about it. “I can have the vet set up a feeding tube, but I don’t want to do it if I don’t have to.” It was true that her dad was pretty checked out, but if he found out she’d had to call in the vet, there would be talk of selling Buttercup. The farm barely turned a profit thanks to the property taxes on the land. They couldn’t afford to keep a high-maintenance animal that might never add to their balance sheet. She didn’t like it, but she’d learned to accept it.
Lexie flipped the mirror up and turned to Rose. “But you might have to, right?”
Rose nodded. “Yeah.”
“What does Will say?”
“He says to call the vet,” Rose admitted.
“And Will knows his stuff?”
“Yeah.” Rose pulled into Lexie’s driveway and put the truck in park. “But I’m going to try the bottle for a little bit longer. I just have to pick up some more nipples before I head to Marty’s.”
Lexie held up her hands. “Whoa! Nipples for cows is where I get off.” She reached for the door, then turned back, her expression serious. “You are going to visit me in the city, right?”
“Definitely,” Rose said.
Lexie looked into Rose’s eyes. “Promise?”
“You haven’t even left yet. Why are you pushing it?”
“Because if you don’t come to the city, I know what will happen to you, and I’ll hate it if it does.”
Rose smiled. “What are you talking about, Lex? You psychic now?”
“I don’t have to be a psychic to know how it’ll go,” she said.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She sighed. “You got a raw deal, Rose. You really did. Your mom dying . . .” Lexie took a deep breath. “Well, it doesn’t get much worse than that. I’m your best friend, and I can’t know the half of it.”
Rose forced herself to swallow around the tightening in her throat. “What does my mom have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with everything,” Lexie said. “Before . . . before it happened, you had plans. You were going to college in the city, and you were planning to get into that study-abroad program. You were going to have a life outside of Milford. If you give up on that now . . .”
“What?” Rose said softly. “What happens if I give up on it now?”
“We both know what happens,” Lexie said. “You stay here, work on the farm, marry Will—”
“Marry Will?” Rose interrupted. She shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Are you sure about that?” Lexie asked. “Because I don’t think I am. I think you’ll get stuck. You’ll need more help on the farm. He’ll step in to help you run the place, and pretty soon, he’ll come clean about the fact that he’s in love with you. Then what will you do? It’s not like there are a lot of guys around here. Not anyone better than Will, at least. He’ll just be the obvious choice.”
Rose laughed. “Will is not in love with me.”
“He is, Rose. He’s just biding his time, waiting until it’s right. And the thing is, you could do worse. I know that, too.”
“So?” Rose asked. “I think you’re wrong about Will, but if I could do worse, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that it wouldn’t be what you want. It would just be what you accepted. You deserve better than that. And how can you even know what you want when the only exploring you’ve done is in a twenty-mile radius of home?”
Rose looked down at her hands. “What if I don’t want anything else?”
Lexie laughed. “Feed that line to someone who doesn’t know better. I’ve seen your stash of travel brochures. Lie to me if you want. I love you. I can take it.” She hesitated, then opened the door. “Just don’t lie to yourself.” She got out of the car and looked back through the open window. “See you Saturday?”
Rose nodded. “If not before.”
She put the truck in gear and backed out of the driveway. Lexie didn’t understand. She didn’t have a bond to the land, to a family legacy. She didn’t have a father who would forget to eat without her. And Will was definitely not in love with Rose. They were friends, good friends. Lexie just didn’t get it because she never got to know a guy well enough to become friends. That was fine for her, but it’s not how Rose worked. She had only been in one relationship, freshman year. It had lasted two months and involved nothing but hand holding, hugging in the hallways, and exactly two make-out sessions—one at Rhonda Washinski’s birthday party and the other behind the bleachers during a football game. Rose hadn’t been interested in someone since. She didn’t mind. The farm kept her busy, now more than ever. There would be time later for love.
The problem is that it wouldn’t be what you want. It would just be what you accepted.
Lexie’s words rang in her ears. She pushed them aside. Staying in Milford was a temporary thing. A way to help out until her dad got back on his feet. She would pick up where she left off when he was better.
She would.
Six
Bodhi was crossing the parking lot when he spotted a small, older woman trying to heave bags of chicken feed into the back of her SUV. She was dragging one of the bags off the flatbed cart and trying to shift it into the trunk when the bag started to slide.
Bodhi jogged the remaining steps between them, reaching for the feed just before it hit the asphalt. “Let me give you a hand with that.”
“Oh my goodness! Thank you,” the woman said.
They got the bag into the car, and Bodhi set aside his pack so he could load the rest. He considered telling the woman he had it under control, but she had a proud tilt to her chin, her jeans and work boots suggesting someone who liked taking care of things herself. It was something Bodhi understood, and he was careful to let her do a little lifting as they loaded the remaining bags together.
When they were done, the woman closed the trunk. “Damn things have gotten heavier!”
Bodhi nodded. “They seem to, don’t they?”
Her laugh was throaty, the laugh of a much younger woman. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m just getting old.” She held out a hand. “Maggie Ryland.”
She eyed his pack. “You passing through?”
“More or less,” he said. “I’m working on the Darrow farm for the summer.”
A shadow seemed to pass over the woman’s eyes. “That poor family. Sweet Rose hasn’t been the same since her mother passed. I’ve brought enough casseroles and pies over there to feed an army, and I suspect she hasn’t eaten a single one of them.”
Bodhi tried to hide his surprise. He had no idea who Sweet Rose was, although he supposed she could be the niece Marty Jacobsen had mentioned, and Marty hadn’t said a word about a death in the family either.
“Oh, you didn’t know!” Maggie held a hand to her chest. “Listen to me going on. Been living in this town too long. I’ve become a blabbermouth like everyone else here. Hardly any point in discretion. Everyone knows everything anyway.”
“That’s all right,” Bodhi said, his mind on the Darrows and their loss. “I’m glad you told me. I’ll do what I can to make things easier for them.”
Maggie touched his arm. “Of course you will. And look after Rose, if you can. Got her mother’s stubborn streak and more on her plate than she can handle. Not a good combination, if you ask me.”
Bodhi nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“You take care now,” Maggie said, heading for the front of the car. “Thanks again for the help.”
“My pleasure,” Bodhi said. He picked up his pack and watched her pull out of the parking lot. Then he headed for the store.
He’d learned the hard way that it didn’t always make sense to haul his work boots around. Usually he knew his employment lineup ahead of time so he could make the judgment call; if he was working within a four-day radius of his current job, he’d spring for a good pair of Red Wings, tie the laces together, and haul them around until the situation demanded he travel light. If he knew he had a long distance to travel to the next job, he’d buy something just sturdy enough to get him through. He’d been through seven pairs of boots in the almost five years he’d been ranching and farming, and he’d gotten good at making the best call for his money. Sometimes he got lucky and found himself in proximity to a farm or consignment store that offered used boots, but more often than not he found himself in a building like the Tractor Supply, browsing the inventory and doing the math. Now he just needed something to get him through the summer. The boots would be too heavy for the kind of walking he’d be doing overseas, and there was no sense spending a lot of money when he’d be leaving them behind.
A Walk in the Sun Page 2
